Now, standing on the edge of this new chapter, these memories feel almost fragile, as though they belong to a different world. The boy I knew is gone, replaced by a man I barely recognize.Who is he now? And will he still see me the way he once did?
Lost in thought, I’m startled when my father’s cold hand settles over mine. The gesture is uncharacteristically tender, a subtle acknowledgment of my unease. I glance up at him, taking in his regal, unyielding presence. He has always kept me close, treating me like his most cherished treasure. And yet, here he is, ready to entrust me to someone else.
The idea feels foreign, impossible even.
My black-gloved hand tightens around his as he leans down, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. His piercing gaze lingers on our entwined hands, a silent reminder of who I am: the daughter of the Vampire King, the most powerful witch of this generation. Raised for strength. Honed for purpose. Cherished, yes—but always for what I could become.
And yet, even this power can’t quiet the doubt gnawing at the edges of my mind.
Jason.
The name has lived tucked away in my heart for years, quiet but present. But those were the years of childhood—before I accepted the heavy mantle of who I was meant to be. Before he disappeared without a word.
I remember the day I wanted to tell him how I felt. It took every ounce of courage I had, but I finally decided. I rehearsed the words over and over in my mind, determined to say them aloud. But when I arrived at our usual spot for lessons, his seat was empty, his books gone. No explanation, no goodbyes. His father had taken him back to their human territory the night before.
I spent weeks hoping he’d return, the ache of his absence settling deep within me. But he never came back. So I buried the feelings, letting them harden into something unspoken. Impenetrable. Something no one could reach, not even him. And now, here he is, about to step back into my life.
My chest tightens, nerves twisting themselves into knots.What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he looks at me now and sees only the monster I’ve become?
“Something troubles you, my sweet,” my father observes, setting down my hand.
I glance up at him, startled out of my thoughts. “I’m fine,” I reply too quickly, more callous than intended.
His brow lifts ever so slightly, his mouth curling into a knowing grin.
“You’ve never been a convincing liar,”
I take a breath to steady myself, lowering my gaze to the polished floor. “It’s nothing, Father. I’m just… nervous.”
“Nervous?” He tilts his head, studying me. “You’ve faced wars, assassins, and councils of men who would have gladly seen you dead. I find it hard to believe a meeting with an old friend could unsettle you.”
“It’s not the meeting,” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “It’s everything that comes after.”
He pauses, his gaze unwavering. Then he nods, as though understanding more than I’ve said aloud.
“You are my daughter,” he says finally, his tone firm but not unkind. “You carry power unlike any I have seen, and you will wield it wisely. Have I ever asked something of you that you could not achieve?”
“No,” I admit softly.
He lifts my chin with a single finger, forcing me to meet his eyes. “And you will not falter now, my sweet.”
Before I can respond, the heavy wooden doors creak open, the sound reverberating through the throne room. My breath catches, and my father straightens beside me, his commanding presence a reminder of the image I must uphold.
The soft light of dawn spills through the doors, casting an amber glow across the dark stone floor. My heart stirs, beating faster with each step that echoes through the room.
Lord Jeffery Striden is the first to enter. His broad frame, once robust and imposing, now carries the weight of age and indulgence. His skin is pallid, his once-proud jawline softened by years of luxury. Sparse gray hair struggles to hide his scalp, and his ornate robes strain slightly at the seams. Despite his appearance, there’s still a trace of the man who once commanded respect—his posture is straight, and his gaze is calculating.
Beside him, Lady Elenor Striden follows with measured steps, her delicate frame enveloped in an opulent gown of emerald silk. Her golden hair, streaked with silver, is swept into an intricate twist, though she wears it like a mask rather than a crown. Her downcast eyes, framed by soft wrinkles, avoid my gaze entirely, as though my presence is too much for her to bear.
But it is Jason who commands my full attention, as if the rest of the room dissolves into shadow.
The boy I once knew—the one who chased me through hidden corridors and tenderly placed roses into my hands—has grown intosomething remarkable, almost otherworldly. It feels almost cruel, the way time has carved away his boyish softness and replaced it with sharp edges and effortless grace.
He wears a tailored crimson jacket that clings to his broad shoulders and tapers perfectly at his waist, its deep, rich hue reminding me of fresh blood—a bold choice that draws attention without demanding it. Beneath it, his crisp white shirt with its subtle gold embroidery catches the faint light of the throne room. The colors suit him far too well, complementing the sun-kissed warmth of his skin. He looks like he’s been forged in fire and tempered in sunlight, a man of strength and vitality who moves with the quiet confidence of someone who knows his worth.
His sandy blond hair is neatly cropped at the sides, though the longer strands at the top fall loosely across his forehead, as though they refuse to fall in line. And then there are his eyes—those golden-brown pools that held me captive as a child. They’re just as warm, just as achingly familiar, but there’s something new in them now. A heaviness, perhaps, or wisdom gained through years of trials. Yet, despite all they’ve seen, they still make me feel like I’m the only person in the room when his gaze meets mine.
I have to remind myself to breathe. I’d always thought Jason was handsome—kind, with a boyish charm—but this... this is something else entirely. He’s devastating. The kind of handsome that steals the air from your lungs and leaves you feeling unsteady.
