The carriages rumbled to a stop before the towering gates of Blackthorne Keep, the ancestral fortress of the royal vampire bloodline. The castle loomed in the early evening light, its spires vanishing into the night sky, shrouded in mist. The heavy iron gates creaked open, allowing the royal procession to enter.
A guard swiftly moved to Azrael’s carriage, pulling open the door. But before her feet could even touch the ground, something warm and solid crashed into her, nearly knocking her back into the carriage.
"Gods, Azrael, you’re alive!"
Eva’s arms tightened around her like iron chains, her grip desperate, crushing, nearly stealing her breath.
Azrael barely had time to react before she was being shaken by the shoulders, Eva’s eyes frantic as they roamed over her as if ensuring she wasn’t just an illusion. Her platinum blonde curls were a wild halo around her, but more than that—her hair was moving, tendrils lifting and curling, grazing Azrael’s skin.
"Eva—" Azrael choked out, trying to return the hug.
Eva’s hair brushed along her cheek, tendrils wrapping around her arms and face, like living extensions of her emotions.
Azrael raised a brow. "Could you calm down with the hair?"
Eva blinked, glancing at the floating strands, then quickly giggled, the hair retracting back into place. "Oh. Sorry.”
Her relief was evident, but her icy blue eyes flashed with accusation as she crossed her arms.
"Two days, Azrael. Two. Days." Her voice was sharp but laced with concern. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? Where in the abyss have you been? What happened? You have to tell me everything!"
Azrael opened her mouth to answer, but before a single word could leave her lips—
"Azrael."
The deep, unyielding voice of Valerion cut through the air, silencing everything around them.
She turned to see her father standing tall near the entrance, his pale features unreadable, his wine-red eye gleaming under the moonlight.
"Come," he said, his voice impassive but commanding.
Azrael hesitated for only a moment before nodding.
She turned to Eva, her lips curving into a faint smile. "I’ll see you later."
Eva sighed, clearly reluctant to let her go. "You better.”
Azrael smirked before making her way toward her father.
Raphael, who had been standing quietly nearby, cleared his throat.
Eva turned, raising an eyebrow. "What do you want, Raphael?”
Raphael’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. His golden eyes gleamed as he stepped toward her, predatory in his approach. "I have to admit, Eva, I rather missed you."
Eva crossed her arms, unimpressed. "I find that hard to believe."
"Oh, but it’s true." He tilted his head, his silver-white hair catching the torchlight. "Two whole days without you? I thought I might actually perish from boredom.”
Eva scoffed. "You’re insufferable, you know that?"
Raphael tilted his head, feigning deep contemplation. "I’ve been told. Repeatedly. But tell me, do you not miss me, even a little?"
Eva exhaled through her nose, eyes narrowing. "I didn’t even notice you were gone."
Raphael grinned. "Liar."
He took another step forward, his voice lowering, dripping with amusement. "Tell me, who holds your interest then? Is he more handsome than I am? Stronger? Wealthier?"
Eva rolled her eyes, already turning away. "That is absolutely none of your business."
Raphael tsked. "Then—"
But Eva had already turned away.
And with a flick of her head, her long, flowing hair lashed out—
smacking Raphael across the face.
Raphael stumbled back a step, momentarily stunned before letting out a deep, amused chuckle.
"Vicious," he murmured to himself as he watched her walk away.
—
The halls of Blackthorne Keep were as cold as ever. The torches along the stone corridors flickered against the high ceilings, their glow barely warming the grand interior.
Azrael followed her father in silence, the heavy doors of his chamber closing behind her with a finality that settled in her bones.
Valerion stood by the tall arched window, his silhouette cut against the moonlight. He didn’t look at her as he spoke.
"The council will be wary. People will talk. They will want answers."
Azrael took a steady breath. "I know."
Valerion finally turned to her, his crimson gaze cold and sharp. "When they ask where you’ve been, you will tell them we discovered dark magic. Ancient, forbidden magic, practiced by witches in distant lands."
Azrael nodded. "And that’s how the mate bond was broken?"
"Yes."
A silence stretched between them before Azrael hesitated.
"And the mark?"
Her father’s gaze darkened. "Tell them the magic severed the bond but left its stain upon your skin. A reminder, nothing more."
Azrael exhaled, nodding again.
Lies. Layer upon layer of them.
But she had no choice.
And so, she prepared for what was to come.
She would face the court. She would tell them what they wanted to hear.
And she would bury the truth deep inside her heart.