Irene was confused and surprised as to how he found out her name.
There he was. The same man she had seen before, the one she had accidentally freed from the tomb. Back then she had thought that there was nothing to the tomb, and her curiosity had put her in deep waters. She hadn't known she was unleashing a monster.
"Yin," A short man called out to him. That was how she found out his name. His dark aura was suffocating. Dark hair that reached down to his shoulder, his red eyes that burned into her. He screamed danger. He looked both regal and terrifying, as if he belonged to another age entirely.
At his feet, kneeling, was her father. Rotam, once proud, now broken, clutching at Yin's boots and begging. "Please, my lord, give me more time. I swear I will repay you. I will find a way."
Her heart broke seeing her father endure humiliations from these night crawlers all because he wanted to give her the best education that was heavier than his pocket.
Yin tilted his head, a cruel smile spread across his lips. "I see your precious daughter has come all the way here just to save you."
"Please My lord," Rotam begged. "I promise to pay you back as soon as possible."
"You've borrowed much, Rotam. You lived like a lord with coin that was not yours. Tell me then, what did you do with all the money you stole from my hands?"
Rotam's lips quivered, his face pale. "I—I spent it on my daughter's schooling. She… she studied at Miss Harrington's Academy of Antiquities. She wanted to be an archaeologist." He answered. "All I wanted was the best for my child."
The words struck Irene like a blade. Her father was exposing her dreams, her education, everything she had worked for, as if it were a sin. She swallowed hard, standing frozen as Yin's eyes turned on her.
"Archaeology?" Yin's laughter echoed through the chamber. It was not warm laughter, but sharp, mocking, cruel which made her stomach twist. "What sort of course is that? Digging in the dirt, chasing after bones of the dead? I was not born in this age, girl. I cannot understand this nonsense." He shook his head, still chuckling, as if the very idea amused him. "All that money, and for this?"
Irene's throat burned. Just like the others who always laughed at her for studying a course meant for a man, she wanted to tell him that she wasn't like other girls who only sought education just because they wanted to be the perfect wife. But her voice caught, and all she managed was a whisper. "We… we will bring the money. Soon. Please. Give us time, that's all we ask of you."
Yin's smile vanished. His eyes hardened like ice. "I want the money now." he said with all finality. "The former lord may have been lenient," he glared at Ervin, the former lord who had his eyes to the ground. "But I won't be so kind."
He reached for the blade at his side, a long silver sword that gleamed in the firelight. He raised it, the sharp edge catching against her father's throat.
Gasps rose from the watching vampires. Irene's breath caught as she stumbled forward, her hand outstretched.
"Wait!" she cried. "Please don't kill him."
Yin paused, tilting the sword, pressing it just enough that Rotam whimpered. "Why should I wait? He is worthless, and his debt has poisoned you both. His blood would be payment enough."
Tears burned in Irene's eyes. She wanted to shout and run away, but her father was more important. Her dreams of discovering ancient artifacts was going down the drain. She had dreamt of discovery, of proving that her life could mean more than balls and gowns and empty chatter. Now all of it was turning to ash before her eyes.
Yin studied her face, the sword still in his hand. Then, slowly, he lowered it. "You look pitiful, girl," he said, almost softly, though his eyes glittered with malice. "So I will give you a choice. Either I kill your father now… or you marry me. You will be my payment cause every money he borrowed was spent on you."
Irene's body froze. Her knees felt weak. The words seemed unreal, like she had misheard him. Marry? Her? Her heart raced, her lips trembling. "You—you can't mean that."
"Oh, I mean it," Yin replied, stepping closer, his shadow covering her. "Choose, Irene. His life, or your freedom."
She shook her head, backing away. "No… no, I can't… I can't marry—"
Yin raised the sword again, swift as lightning, the blade inches from her father's throat.
Rotam screamed.
"Yes!" Irene shouted, the word tearing from her chest. "Yes, I'll marry you! Please, just spare him!" she cried.
The sword lowered. Yin's lips curved into a smile that made her blood run cold. "Good girl."
He gestured, and from the shadows stepped a woman, pale and elegant, her eyes glowing faintly red. "Take her," Yin ordered. "Dress her in a gown worthy of tonight. The soon-to-be bride of a vampire lord shouldn't be seen in rags."
Irene was seized by cold hands and dragged away. Her feet barely touched the ground as the woman took her through the dimly lit corridors to a room where she took out a silk dress from the closet.
Her fingers shook as they slipped the fabric over her body. She stared into the mirror, but the woman who looked back at her was not the scholar she wanted to be. She was a bride being prepared for chains. Her face was powdered with heavy makeup that made it hard to recognize her own self.
When she returned to the hall, the vampires had gathered. Candles burned brighter, shadows circling the vaulted ceiling. Yin stood at the altar, waiting, his dark eyes never leaving hers. They were all speaking in hush tones as she stood facing Yin, who had a smirk on his face.
The words of the ceremony blurred in her ears. Her chest was tight, her heart screaming, but she stayed silent. When the vow came, Yin leaned close, his breath brushing her ear as he whispered so only she could hear.
"This is only the beginning. You freed me from that tomb, little archaeologist. And now I will make you suffer for it." He promised. "What you did to me, I'll make you pay."
Her hands shook as the bond was sealed. Somewhere inside her, the girl who had once dreamed of lost cities and ancient stones crumbled. Irene was no longer a student, no longer a daughter. She was a prisoner in silk, bound to the very monster she had set free.