Chapter 2: Blood and Betrayal
SERAPHINA
"You are planning on killing my father?"
I asked, I couldn't believe my ears…
"You are planning on committing treason."
I whispered, pushing myself against the wall and creating distance between us, unsure of what he would do next.
"Yes, Princess. I plan on committing treason… and taking your dragons. You think I will simply agree to marry you?"
"Impossible."
I snapped, pushing myself toward the door.
"What are you going to do? Run to dear daddy and tell him that your betrothed plans on killing him once he gets married to his daughter? Do you think he will believe you, dear Seraphina, my betrothed?"
He asked, stopping me in my tracks. He knew the kind of man my father was—he was never the type to listen to me. Telling him something barbaric like this was going to make him laugh, and he'd probably place me in a psychiatric ward.
"Why are you doing this…"
I whispered. For a second, I felt hopeless…
My question seemed to sound funny because he laughed instead—not a low laugh, but a loud, vibrant laughter.
"You think I will marry a Lancaster? Your family, your grandfather created the Lord of Misery. Your father tortured him, and even though you couldn't see it, you knew about it. Your family is the reason for all the bloodshed, the kingdoms ruined, and lives destroyed. You have so much blood on your hands, Seraphina—blood you can't run away from. And I will help you defeat Draven Gravestone, but you will atone for the blood your family has spilled for the rest of your life."
He said coldly, his voice filled with complete seriousness. The weight of his words hung in the air, enough to suffocate me, and that was enough to make me walk out of the room. The moment I stepped out of his chambers, my body sagged against the door as I took in hard, deep breaths, my heart thundering so loudly.
"I need to speak with my father."
I whispered, quickly walking away from the hall of his chambers.
As I walked through the hall, I heard noises coming from outside the walls. I approached the high, vaulted windows of the castle, slowly peeping to see the commotion. What I saw made my heart clench—it was the scene of three guards flogging a slave so ruthlessly. The slave looked skinny, his body appearing as though he hadn't had proper food for maybe a month.
A tear slipped from my eyes. The urge to walk to the guards gnawed within me. I wanted to go there, stop this madness, and tell every slave that they had gained their freedom. But I couldn't. My father wouldn't allow me anywhere close to the slaves.
He had stopped my interference in slave tortures countless times, and he had ordered the guards to ensure I never went near them.
"Princess Seraphina."
A voice stopped me. When I turned, I was surprised to see my personal bodyguard standing a few inches from me, his head bowed to the ground.
"The alpha wants to see you in court."
He finished, his eyes now meeting mine.
"The court? Why would I be in court?"
I asked, and he shook his head, sadness creeping into his eyes.
"I can't say…"
"Are other alphas there? Lords?"
I asked, dread pooling in my chest, and he nodded, confirming my fears.
I nodded. I straightened my chin and looked toward the path that led to the halls.
"Fine. Let's go."
I said, my voice sounding firm, as we walked toward the courtroom.
The moment the door to the courtroom opened, the room instantly went silent. All eyes turned to gaze at me.
The scene in front of me was horrifying—one I disgusted with everything in me, one I had always avoided being part of.
But my father, as always, looked for ways to ensure my hands were stained with his atrocities.
There were not just alphas—there were vampires, witches, and different heads of lords in the room. The room reeked of raw sex and rich perfume, and the agonizing scent of the slaves' torment ripped through the air, making bile rise in my throat.
"We welcome Seraphina Lancaster, first of her name and daughter of Alpha Henry Lancaster, seventh in line of her throne and betrothed of Adrian Bateaus. She has honored us with her presence."
The announcer said in the quiet halls. I walked toward my father's throne, shoulders raised, chin high, but I couldn't fail to notice the stares I was receiving from the people in the building. Not just the men, but the women too—they stared at me with lust in their eyes.
Each and every one had slaves with them—two, three, and even five.
Most of them were not wearing pants, their slaves clutching onto their cocks. The women rulers were bare, their breasts exposed in a repulsive sight as their male slaves sucked on their breasts and their fingers dipped into their cunts, all while staring at me.
The sights were repulsive and disgusting, but I chose to remain silent, my expression cold.
This was something I had learned to handle for so long.
My father remained on the throne, unmoved as he stared at the scene in front of him, a smile curved at the corner of his lips.
"You called me, father?"
I whispered, my head straight, staring at the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, acting like the room was empty—no awful scene before me.
My father turned to look at me. A large silver crown sat atop his pure white, long hair—something I had inherited from both him and my late mother. As his silver eyes met mine—another thing I had gotten from him—he smiled. It was genuine, but the evil beneath it was not hidden.
"I wanted you to watch the scene here. What do you think?"
He gestured at the scene in front of us. I was going to need a triple bath the moment I walked out of here.
"Repulsive…"
I whispered, my voice firm and showing how much I hated being here.
My father chuckled at my words.
"I have trained you for so many years to learn this power, to learn everything that comes with obtaining power and never being outmatched. Our fight for power made the goddess bless our generations with the power of dragons. Blessed us with the power to speak with dragons, control them, make them obey us. And that's why every single pack, every single kingdom, every single land feared us and made me the alpha king… Because I am Henry Lancaster, one of a kind. And you, my daughter…are so weak to bear the weight of this power."
His voice didn't crack, nor did he stutter. Instead, it remained firm and cold while he stared at the scene in front of him, speaking with so much authority that it made my wolf cower.
"But you were not powerful enough to protect us from the doom that is about to befall us. To protect us from the nemesis you created—Draven Gravestone."