CHAPTER NO 1
The moon had been red for a hundred years.
They said it turned crimson the day the last sun fell when the humans lost the sky and the vampires took the world. Under its eerie light, nothing truly lived; everything merely endured.
At the edge of a forgotten forest, where frost clung to the trees like ash, a girl with pale skin and hair streaked white and pink trudged barefoot through the mud. Her name was Eira Caelwyn, and she had long ago stopped believing that the world was kind.
Her worn cloak barely shielded her from the cold, but her eyes deep, sea-dark blue still held a spark that refused to die. In her hand, she carried a small wooden charm shaped like a flower, carved by a man whose face she could barely remember.
Her father, her Savior, her only light. Gone now.
She had buried him with her own hands in the field where wild lavender once grew. Then she had run, because her mother had sold her name to debt collectors, and the men who came to collect didn't care that she was barely seventeen.
So she ran.
Until soldiers of the Crimson Dominion found her.
They had come on horses black as night, clad in silver armour that gleamed under the blood moon. The captain had dismounted, his fangs visible even before he spoke.
"You'll serve at the palace," he said, his tone sharp, final. "The Regent demands fresh attendants. You look clean enough."
"I'm not a servant," she had whispered.
"You are now."
And so, Eira was taken in chains to the Citadel of Umbra, the heart of vampire rule home to the Draven Dynasty, where the Sovereign Princess Vaelora Draven ruled with blood and silence.
The Citadel was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at. Towers like blades, walls carved from black marble veined with red, and a scent of roses and iron drifting in the air.
Inside, the light was dim, filtered through crimson glass. Servants moved like ghosts. No one spoke above a whisper.
"Keep your eyes down," one of them hissed as Eira was brought to the servant's hall. "If you meet her gaze, she'll drink you dry."
Her?
Eira didn't ask. She just nodded, clutching her small charm, her pulse hammering.
That night, the princess came down from her throne.
Vaelora Draven was not what Eira expected.
She was tall elegant, deadly with hair as dark as a raven's wing, cropped short at her jaw. Her skin was porcelain-pale, her eyes deep crimson, and her expression carved from ice. She wore armour, not silk, and a sword hung from her hip, not jewellery.
Every step she took echoed like thunder in Eira's chest.
When their eyes met for the first time, Eira forgot to breathe.
Vaelora paused, gaze flicking over her like a knife. "You're new."
Eira bowed quickly. "Y–yes, Your Grace."
"Your name?"
"Eira Caelwyn."
Something flickered behind those crimson eyes something she couldn't name.
"Caelwyn," Vaelora repeated softly, as if tasting the word. "A name from the Old Kingdoms."
"I… I don't know, Your Grace. My father he
Vaelora raised a hand. "Silence."
Her voice was soft, but it struck harder than a shout. She turned to her guards. "Assign her to the east wing. My personal quarters need a handmaiden."
The guards hesitated. "Your Highness, she's human"
"Did I stutter?"
They bowed immediately. "No, Your Grace."
Vaelora's gaze lingered on Eira once more before she turned away. "She'll do."
And just like that, Eira's fate changed again.
The east wing of the Citadel was quiet, draped in heavy velvet curtains that muffled every sound. It was said no one entered there unless summoned by the princess herself.
Eira's duties were simple: clean, serve, and never speak unless spoken to. But the palace air was heavy, and she could feel something watching her even when she was alone.
The first time she saw Vaelora again, it was by accident.
She had gone to replace the candles in the royal chamber when the princess entered, armour gleaming faintly under the moonlight streaming through tall windows. Eira froze, candle still in her hand.
Vaelora looked at her not with anger, but curiosity.
"You fear me," she said.
Eira hesitated. "…Should I not?"
Vaelora approached her slowly, her boots silent on the marble floor. "Everyone does. But you're trembling differently."
Eira lowered her gaze. "Because I've seen monsters before."
That made Vaelora stop. For a heartbeat, the vampire princess seemed human confused, even. Then, slowly, a faint smile ghosted across her lips.
"Then you'll fit right in here," she murmured, and brushed past her.
Eira didn't move until the sound of her footsteps vanished.
That night, when Eira returned to her small quarters, her heart wouldn't stop racing. Her blood felt warm too warm.
She dreamed of crimson eyes watching her in the dark, not with hunger, but something deeper. Something that frightened her more than death.
Days passed. The princess rarely spoke to anyone, but she spoke to Eira. Simple things at first. Questions about her chores. Then about her past.
One evening, while Eira brushed the dust from the library shelves, Vaelora appeared beside her.
"Do you hate this place?" the princess asked.
Eira blinked. "I don't know if I'm allowed to."
"You're allowed," Vaelora said softly, almost as if to herself.
Eira's fingers brushed the charm at her neck. "Then yes. I do."
Vaelora studied her for a long time. "Honesty is rare among humans."
"It's all I have left."
For the first time, the vampire smiled not coldly, but faintly, almost sadly. "You may keep it, then. I won't take that from you."
But the bond that was forming between them didn't go unnoticed.
The courtiers whispered. The knights stared. And in the dark corners of the palace, the High Council murmured of danger.
For the first time in a century, the princess had chosen a human to serve at her side.
And for the first time in her life, Eira felt seen.
Not as a curse.Not as a servant.But as someone who mattered.
Under the crimson moon, their destinies began to entwine two souls on opposite sides of a dying world, bound by something neither yet understood.