Chapter 7 Learning the Rules
ARIA'S POV
The throne room was packed with vampires—hundreds of them, all watching me with hungry eyes as Morgana dragged me down the aisle.
At the front, two men faced each other like wolves about to fight.
Sebastian stood on the left, his ice-blue eyes locked on me with an intensity that made my mark burn. On the right was Prince Dante—golden-haired, handsome, and smiling like this was a game.
Between them sat an ancient vampire on a throne carved from bone. He looked a thousand years old, with white hair and eyes like black holes.
"The First Bride," Morgana announced, shoving me forward. "As requested."
The ancient vampire leaned forward. "I am Elder Cain, keeper of the old laws. Prince Dante has invoked the Trial by Blood, claiming Lord Sebastian is unfit to take a First Bride. Is this true, Prince Dante?"
Dante bowed mockingly. "Elder Cain, Lord Sebastian has performed this ritual for eight centuries. Always the same—he drains the bride, takes her power, and walks away unchanged. Cold. Empty. Barely alive himself." He gestured toward Sebastian. "But this year, something's different. He's requested a specific bride by name. He's already met with her privately, breaking protocol. I believe he's compromised."
Murmurs rippled through the court.
"Compromised how?" Elder Cain asked.
"He feels something for her," Dante said simply. "And feelings make vampires weak. Vulnerable. If he transforms this girl out of emotion rather than necessity, he endangers us all. The ritual requires a clear mind and an empty heart."
My stomach twisted. Was that true? Did Sebastian feel something for me?
I looked at him, but his expression was carved from ice. No emotion. No hint of anything.
"Lord Sebastian," Elder Cain said. "How do you answer these charges?"
Sebastian's voice was cold as winter. "Prince Dante is correct about one thing—I did request this bride specifically. But not out of emotion. Out of necessity." He turned those ice-blue eyes on me. "Aria Thornwell carries blood that hasn't existed in centuries. Blood that can break curses. I need her power, nothing more."
The words shouldn't have hurt. But they did.
"Then you won't mind if I take her instead," Dante said smoothly. "If she's merely a tool, it doesn't matter who wields her."
"She's mine," Sebastian growled, and for the first time, I heard real emotion in his voice—possessive, dangerous. "The bargain was made with me. No one else touches her."
Elder Cain raised his hand. "Then the Trial begins. You will fight until one of you yields or dies. The winner claims the First Bride." He looked at me. "Girl, you will watch. This is the price of being desired by two lords."
Guards forced me into a chair at the side of the room. Elena was suddenly there too, pulled from the Sanctuary, her hand finding mine.
"This is insane," she whispered.
"Everything here is insane," I whispered back.
The throne room cleared, leaving a wide circle. Sebastian and Dante faced each other.
"I don't want to kill you," Dante said. "Yield, and I'll make sure your death is quick."
Sebastian's laugh was cold. "You're six hundred years younger than me, boy. This will be over in seconds."
They moved.
I'd never seen anything so fast. One moment they were standing still, the next they were a blur of motion—fists, fangs, power crackling through the air like lightning. They crashed through pillars, shattered stone, moved so fast my eyes couldn't track them.
Blood sprayed. I didn't know whose.
"Stop!" I shouted, but no one heard me over the sound of destruction.
Dante slammed Sebastian into the ground so hard the floor cracked. "You're weak, old friend. Whatever you feel for that girl is making you slow."
"I feel nothing," Sebastian snarled, but his voice shook.
He was losing.
My mark burned hotter, and suddenly I could feel it—through whatever connection we'd formed, I felt Sebastian's pain. His exhaustion. Something was wrong with him. He wasn't fighting at full strength.
"He's cursed," Iris's voice whispered beside me. I jumped—I hadn't seen her appear. "Lord Sebastian has been cursed for eight hundred years. Each Winter Feast, he must drain a bride completely, or he weakens and dies. But this year, he's already weakening. The curse is eating him alive."
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because eight centuries of killing finally broke something in him," Iris said sadly. "He's been trying to find another way to break the curse—someone whose blood could save him instead of just feeding it."
"My blood," I realized.
"Your blood," Iris confirmed. "But if Dante wins, Dante gets you. And Dante doesn't need to break a curse—he'll drain you dry on Christmas morning like tradition demands."
In the circle, Dante had Sebastian pinned, his hand raised for a killing blow.
"Yield," Dante commanded.
Sebastian's eyes found mine across the room. In them, I saw something I hadn't seen before—not coldness, but resignation. He'd given up.
He was going to let Dante kill him rather than keep fighting.
And if he died, I'd belong to Dante. I'd die in twelve days, screaming, while Dante drank every drop of my blood.
"No," I whispered. Then louder: "NO!"
I didn't know what I was doing. I just knew I couldn't watch Sebastian die.
I ran forward, breaking through the guards' grip. Power exploded from my mark—that same golden light from before, but stronger now. It filled the entire throne room, blinding everyone.
I reached Sebastian and pressed my hand against his chest.
The connection slammed into place.
I felt everything—his curse writhing inside him like a living thing, eight hundred years of death and guilt weighing on his soul, and underneath it all, buried so deep he'd almost forgotten it existed, a tiny spark of hope.
Hope that I could save him.
"Take it," I gasped, not sure what I was offering, only knowing he needed it. "Take what you need."
Sebastian's eyes went wide with shock. "Aria, don't—"
But it was too late. Power poured from me into him, golden and bright and alive. The curse screamed and shattered. Sebastian's skin began to glow, his strength returning in a rush.
He caught me as my legs gave out, holding me against his chest.
"What did you do?" he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and horror.
Around us, the throne room had gone completely silent. Every vampire was staring at the golden light still surrounding us.
Elder Cain stood slowly, his ancient face showing shock for the first time.
"Impossible," he breathed. "She's activated a Sanguine Bond. That magic has been dead for three centuries. She's bound herself to Lord Sebastian—if one dies, the other follows."
Morgana screamed. "She's made herself essential to his survival! He can never let her go!"
Sebastian's arms tightened around me protectively.
"The Trial is over," Elder Cain declared. "The First Bride has chosen. She belongs to Lord Sebastian."
But through our new bond, I felt Sebastian's emotions—shock, fear, guilt.
And I realized with growing horror that I'd just trapped myself forever to a man who might only see me as a tool to break his curse