When I finally wake up, I am already aware of the changes.
My body feels different.
Heavier… but stronger.
The air around me feels sharper as it moves through my lungs.
I remain crouched on the ground for a few seconds, slowly scanning my body as if I am trying to confirm that this is real.
My fingers.
My arms.
My legs.
I flex them cautiously.
I know what happened.
Deep down, I understand.
But my mind refuses to fully accept it.
I am still trying to process the fact that I am no longer human.
I swallow hard and finally look down at my hands again.
The skin is paler than before.
The veins beneath it feel like they are humming.
My heart still beats — but differently.
Slower.
Controlled.
I raise my hands and clench them into fists.
The realization crashes over me all at once.
My eyes grow misty.
Clouded with unshed tears.
I force myself to breathe.
Then slowly, I lift my head and glare at Cassian.
My voice breaks through the silence.
"What have you done to me?"
Cassian looks at me.
His expression is heavy with sympathy and remorse.
He does not speak immediately.
Silas — standing beside him — glares at me instead.
His jaw tight.
His posture rigid.
He crosses his arms and mutters coldly, "Saved your life. You're welcome."
A growl escapes my throat instinctively.
It feels animalistic.
Raw.
I lunge toward Silas without thinking — fueled by anger and shock.
But he moves effortlessly.
He sidesteps my attack as if I am moving in slow motion.
He clicks his tongue.
"Ungrateful."
"I did not ask you to save my life!" I yell at him.
Silas rolls his eyes.
His tone sharp.
"I did not want to save your life. I am not your sire. Cassian is."
His words hit like a reminder.
I shift my glare back to Cassian.
Cassian remains silent.
His silence angers me even more.
"Why would you make me one of you?" I shout.
"You are disgusting creatures! Why would you do this to me? Why would you make me the thing I hate the most?"
Cassian finally speaks.
His voice is calm — but firm.
"So you would have preferred to die?"
His gaze locks onto mine.
"You would have preferred to die in this alleyway? Cold? Alone?"
"I did you a favor. You might not technically be alive — but you are still breathing."
His expression hardens slightly.
"I risked my safety. I risked my freedom to turn you so you would not die. And this is how you repay me? With anger and frustration?"
He exhales slowly.
"I understand this is new to you. I understand you hate us. We are what you call disgusting animals. And yes — one of us put you in this situation."
His eyes flick briefly with restrained anger.
"He was the one who brought you to this dilemma. I understand that."
He steps slightly closer.
"But I have come to rectify the mistake one of us caused."
"By turning me into one of you?" I snap.
"How would I live normally again? You have made me a monster!"
Silas suddenly cuts in.
"We are all monsters. You just have to decide if you want to be the good one or the bad one."
"Si, calm down," Cassian warns quietly.
"No. Let her hear it," Silas snaps back.
"She is acting silly. Stupid."
His eyes narrow at me.
"You are just a little girl. What do you understand?"
His tone is harsh — but there is frustration beneath it.
He continues bitterly:
"Cassian has risked his freedom."
"Once he returns to the castle, he will be imprisoned for at least six years because he decided to sire a no-named human being who might not even be worth any of this."
His gaze shifts to Cassian.
"I warn you — it is either you kill her right now, or we continue our journey back to the palace, or you let her keep talking shit to you."
Silence falls.
Cassian looks at me.
His jaw tightens.
"You know I can't kill her, Si."
He exhales slowly.
"She is… I saved her."
His voice lowers.
"I can't let her die. Even if it means I stay in the dungeon for six years — I will."
He steps closer to me.
"Take her. At least know she is alive and well. Even if she is angry — she will be alive."
"Maybe her life will be better than it was before."
Silas stares at him.
His expression screams, I want to kill you right now — but I care about you too much to do it.
He finally sighs.
"Fine. We will take her to the castle."
"But whatever Dare does to you…"
"Whatever punishment you suffer for bringing this annoyance to the castle…"
He points at me briefly.
"…that is all on you."
"I will not get involved."
"I will pretend I was blinded before you brought this… annoyance."
I narrow my eyes at him.
He clearly has worse words he wants to use — and he is restraining himself.
His glare remains intense.
But I see something else behind it.
Something hidden.
He is withholding information.
He is observing me.
Measuring me.
Cassian turns to me again.
"Before I am imprisoned — when we reach the castle — I will have someone teach you the basics of being a sired vampire."
"Right now, I will teach you."
He begins calmly.
"There are three types of vampires."
"Pure-bloods — like me, Si, and Dare."
"Many others you will meet in the castle are pure-bloods."
He continues.
"Then there are sired vampires."
"Like you."
"You were turned by me. So you inherit parts of my power."
"Then there are rogue vampires."
"They are turned by sired vampires who refuse responsibility."
"They were turned on impulse — without guidance."
"They have no control."
"They roam freely."
"And they are the major cause of disappearances and chaos in Greyhaven."
He looks at me carefully.
"I know you hate us."
"But trust me — I will not do anything to hurt you."
"I will make sure you get justice."
"Even if it means I am thrown into the dungeon for twelve more years — I will find the vampire who put you in that alley."
His eyes darken.
"And I will kill him."
I stare at him.
For a moment…
I see honesty.
Not manipulation.
Not deception.
Just determination.
Then I say quietly,
"Not if I kill him first."
Silence follows.
For the first time since I woke up in that death alley…
Silas smiles.
He immediately wipes it away — forcing his face back into neutrality.
But I saw it.
There was pride in his eyes.
He liked that answer.
He liked my spirit.
And strangely…
I kind of like how I feel now.
The carriage ride to the castle is suffocatingly quiet.
Silas sits across from me, his silver gaze fixed on my face in a way that makes my skin crawl. Not anger. Not quite hatred.
Suspicion.
Cassian notices.
He raises a brow at Silas as if silently asking, Why do you keep looking at her like that?
Silas does not answer aloud.
But something shifts between them.
A flicker in their eyes.
A pause too deliberate.
They are communicating.
Without words.
And I cannot hear it.
I narrow my eyes at both of them, irritated.
They glance at me briefly before looking away as though nothing happened.
The carriage jolts slightly as the driver calls out, "We are nearing the castle."
The tension inside thickens.
Cassian looks like he is fighting himself.
His jaw tightens. His fingers tap once against his knee.
He wants to say something.
He does not.
He struggles with it.
Then he loses.
"Aren't you hungry?" he finally asks.
I blink at him.
"What do you mean hungry?"
He frowns slightly. "You are a new… sired vampire. You are supposed to be hungry. You are supposed to crave blood."
His eyes scan me carefully.
"You look fine."
I stare at him in confusion.
"What do you mean I am supposed to crave blood? I am supposed to be hungry?"
Silas groans under his breath, clearly annoyed.
He leans forward slightly, finally deciding to explain.
"You see, new vampires, once they are turned, become excruciatingly hungry," he says.
"They lose their minds from the hunger. It consumes them. They are only satiated once they take their first sip of blood."
He studies me more closely.
"You have not taken blood. Not fresh human blood. Not vampire blood."
He tilts his head slightly.
"And yet you look strong. Stable."
"That is odd."
"Especially for someone newly turned."
I stare back at him.
"So I am supposed to be hungry?"
Both he and Cassian nod.
"But I am not."
Cassian frowns thoughtfully.
"Maybe because there are no temptations. No humans nearby to tempt you… or make your fangs itch."
"Do not say the words 'fangs itch' ever again in front of me!" I snap.
My voice echoes sharply inside the carriage.
Cassian visibly startles at the force of my reaction.
Before he can respond, the carriage slows to a halt.
The doors are thrown open.
Guards stand outside, armored and rigid.
Without warning, they pull Cassian roughly from the carriage.
I am dragged out next with equal harshness.
Only Silas steps down on his own, receiving slightly less aggression.
One of the guards glares at Cassian.
"Why would you sire a human without direct orders?"
"Why would you create a vampire without approval from the ruler?"
Cassian straightens despite their grip on him.
"It was necessary," he says sharply.
"You are not allowed to decide what is necessary," another guard replies coldly.
"You cannot do as you please simply because our ruler is your cousin."
"I did not do as I pleased," Cassian growls.
"I did it to save a human being."
"You did not save a human being," the guard counters. "You made the human part of us."
Cassian's eyes flash.
"I made her mine. I am her sire. Do you see me siring and abandoning her to go rogue?"
His voice rises.
"If I wanted to harm us, I would have let her go rogue and come here as if nothing happened. Would you have preferred that?"
The guards exchange uneasy glances.
A red-haired guard nods to another.
"Go inform the ruler."
He grips Cassian's arm and begins dragging him toward the castle entrance.
Two maids dressed in pale blue gowns and white scarves approach me cautiously.
Their hands are gentle.
Too gentle.
They guide me in the opposite direction from Cassian.
Silas remains standing near the carriage for a moment, ignored.
His jaw tightens in irritation.
He sighs heavily.
"I warned him," he mutters under his breath as he walks toward the castle.
"But he never listens."
The Court of Greyhaven
Cassian is summoned first.
The throne room is vast and dimly lit.
Torches flicker along the walls.
Vampires line the chamber in silent anticipation.
At the center sits Darian.
Ruler of the vampires of Greyhaven.
Not the human king — but the one who enforces the laws that keep the balance.
He shares Greyhaven with a human monarch.
But in truth?
He holds more power.
The human king fears bringing problems to his table.
Disappearances.
Whispers.
Rebellions.
He stays silent.
Darian does not.
Cassian is brought forward in chains.
The ruler's right-hand man steps forward and reads from a parchment.
"Treaty number four hundred and twenty-three."
"To create a sire bond with a human without proper confirmation or approval from the ruler of that time…"
"The offender will be charged to six years in the dungeon with hard labor."
"The offender will be starved of blood for six years and suffer according to the laws set by our ancestors."
Murmurs ripple through the room.
Cassian lifts his gaze to the throne.
Darian leans back casually.
Dark hair slicked back — except for one stubborn strand that falls over his forehead.
His red eyes gleam beneath the torchlight.
He waves his hand dismissively.
The reading stops.
Silence falls.
Darian studies his cousin.
"Why would you jeopardize your freedom for a nobody?"
The question is cold.
Harsh.
The room freezes.
Cassian straightens.
"I did not want her to die."
Darian tilts his head.
"She is already dead. She is simply moving."
"It is not the same."
Darian's expression shifts.
"What is not the same?" he snaps, his patience thinning.
"You should have let her die like humans are meant to die."
"It was one of our own who made her like that," Cassian argues.
Darian pauses.
"A rogue?"
"I do not know," Cassian admits.
"But she was left in that alley intentionally. On the verge of death."
He steps forward slightly.
"If I saved her, we could use what she remembers to trace whoever did this."
"It is only a matter of time before humans rebel."
"There are whispers. They call us monsters. They believe we are planning to wipe them out."
"I am trying to help you."
He meets Darian's eyes directly.
"It is killing two birds with one stone."
Darian watches him carefully.
"And was it willing?" he asks slowly.
"Did she consent?"
Silence stretches.
Cassian hesitates.
"She gave me permission."
The throne room tightens.
"Cassian," Darian says quietly, dangerously. "If you lie to me, your punishment will double."
"She gave me permission," Cassian repeats.
Long silence.
Finally, Darian exhales.
"Very well."
Cassian looks up, surprised.
"Your punishment will not follow the books."
Whispers break out.
Darian continues:
"You will handle the rogue situation in Greyhaven."
"You will find Yalida — the vampire responsible for these careless turnings."
"You will either kill them… or bring them to me."
"You decide."
Cassian nods immediately.
"And the girl?" Darian asks.
"You will train her."
"But in the meantime…"
"She will serve in the castle."
"In the servants' quarters."
"Do you agree?"
Cassian nods again. "Yes. Of course."
Darian's gaze sharpens.
"Bring the girl to the court."
The heavy doors of the throne room groaned open.
The guards dragged me inside, their iron grip tight around my arms. My feet barely touched the polished marble floor as they pulled me forward.
My heart was pounding so violently I thought it might burst through my chest.
Would I actually be killed?
The thought echoed in my mind again and again.
The throne room was bigger than I expected.
Towering pillars surrounded the space, draped with dark velvet banners. A massive chandelier hung above us, candles burning brightly and casting golden light across the room. The air felt heavier here — thicker — like power itself was woven into the atmosphere.
I swallowed.
Maybe he is like Cassian… maybe like Silas… maybe he is not cruel.
I tried to convince myself as they dragged me deeper into the court.
"Lower your head!"
A guard shoved me down roughly.
"Do you dare look the King in the eye, you mannerless creature?"
My jaw tightened.
If they hadn't dragged me in like I weighed nothing — if they had allowed me to stand properly — maybe I wouldn't have lifted my head just to steady myself.
I glared at the guard.
"Maybe," I muttered under my breath, "if you hadn't pulled me like a sack of grain, I wouldn't have needed to look up for balance."
Before I could react, something struck my back.
Pain exploded through me.
I gasped.
But strangely… the pain faded faster than I expected.
Then everything went silent.
The entire room fell quiet — so quiet it felt unnatural.
It was as if someone had commanded the air itself to stop breathing.
I refused to lift my head again.
If raising it meant getting hit again, then I would keep it down.
Then I heard it.
A voice.
Cold.
Deep.
It vibrated through the hall and crawled across my skin.
"And who might you be?"
My spine stiffened instantly.
Slowly… I lifted my gaze.
From the marble steps…
Up to the throne…
And finally — to him.
He sat there like royalty carved from shadow.
His crimson eyes locked onto mine — studying me carefully.
Those eyes didn't just look at me.
They pierced through me.
A strange pressure pressed against my chest.
I quickly dropped my gaze again.
What is this feeling? Why does it feel like he can see inside my thoughts?
Silence stretched between us.
Then he spoke again.
"So you won't even grant me the courtesy of knowing your name?"
His lips curved slightly.
"Your actions have placed my cousin in a difficult position. He claims you are useful… yet all I see is a stubborn sired vampire who doesn't understand her place."
My fingers curled into fists.
I wanted to snap back at him.
I wanted to defend myself.
But his voice — smooth, commanding, dangerously calm — wrapped around my thoughts and made resistance feel heavier.
It tempted me to look at him.
Tempted me to obey.
Tempted me to fight.
Footsteps echoed across the chamber.
Murmurs exploded around the room.
"Is the King coming down?"
"He never leaves the throne for a servant…"
"Why her?"
My stomach tightened.
Is he walking toward me?
The murmuring grew louder.
He stopped.
Right in front of me.
Then — he crouched down.
Gasps erupted from the court.
I felt his fingers lift my chin.
Cold.
Controlled.
His touch forced my face upward.
I heard whispers immediately spread through the room.
"Her eyes…"
"They aren't red…"
"They're grey…"
"They look human…"
His gaze moved slowly across my face.
He tilted his head.
"Unique," he murmured.
His thumb brushed lightly near my cheek.
"Your eyes… grey. They remind me of the moon."
He glanced toward the guards.
"Bring Cassian to me."
The guards moved quickly.
Chains clattered across the marble floor.
Moments later, I heard hurried footsteps approaching.
Cassian.
They brought him forward and removed the chains from his wrists.
When he stood beside me, I could feel the tension radiating from him.
His eyes flicked toward me for a second — quick, protective — before turning toward the King.
Relief washed over me just knowing he was there.
But I also sensed something heavy in the air.
Suspicion.
Darian leaned back slightly on his throne, his gaze shifting between Cassian and me.
"Cousin," he said calmly.
"Explain to me why her eyes are not red."
Silence.
Cassian looked momentarily stunned.
"I don't follow," he replied carefully. "What do you mean?"
Darian's fingers tapped lightly against the arm of his throne.
He gestured toward me.
"Her skin is pale — yes. She has fangs — yes. She survived the turning."
His eyes narrowed.
"But her eyes are grey."
A quiet murmur spread through the court again.
I felt everyone staring at me.
Like I was some kind of defect.
Cassian turned his head slowly to look at me.
His expression shifted — confusion mixed with something almost like shock.
"I—" He hesitated.
Then he looked back at the King.
"I assumed it would change with time."
"Change?" Darian repeated.
He gave a short cold laugh.
"You call this change?"
He stood up from the throne and stepped down one stair.
"She looks nothing like us."
His gaze moved over my face again.
"If it weren't for the fangs, I would assume you brought an impostor into my castle."
My jaw tightened.
Impostor?
I wanted to argue.
To tell him I didn't ask to be turned.
That I didn't ask to be dragged into this existence.
But I stayed quiet.
Cassian quickly spoke again.
"She is a vampire, I swear it."
Darian raised a brow.
"I did not say she wasn't."
Cassian swallowed.
"We found her in the alley — near the death zone. She was bitten close to the door of death."
His voice wavered slightly.
"When we found her… her heartbeat was already faint. We had no time. We performed the turning immediately."
His fingers clenched at his side.
"I followed the proper process."
He looked frustrated now — like he was trying to defend something important.
"I do not know why her eyes did not turn red."
The King stared at him for a long moment.
The silence felt heavy.
Then—
Darian exhaled slowly.
"Perhaps."
His eyes shifted back to me.
"She is not ordinary."
The words sounded less like praise… and more like an assessment.
"Maybe the transformation reacted differently because she was close to death."
Cassian nodded quickly.
"That is possible."
Darian turned his back to us for a moment — walking slowly across the throne platform.
He spoke without turning around.
"Run tests."
"Check her blood lineage."
"Verify if there is something else mixed in her system."
He paused.
Then added coldly:
"If there is something hidden… I want to know before it becomes a threat."
My stomach twisted.
Threat?
They were talking about me like I was a potential weapon — or a malfunction.
Cassian stepped slightly closer to me.
"Cousin," he said carefully.
"She poses no danger."
Darian turned his head slightly.
His crimson eyes locked onto Cassian.
"Do not speak in certainty about things you barely understand."
Cassian lowered his head.
"Yes… my King."
The title felt forced.
Uncomfortable.
Darian's gaze shifted back to me.
Then he made a dismissive motion with his fingers.
"No need to keep her chained."
"She looks capable of fitting into the castle."
His lips curved slightly.
"But to prevent whispers…"
His eyes darkened.
"She will stay in the servants' quarters."
"After we extract information from her about the one who turned her — and the one who almost killed her."
He tilted his head.
"And why is Silas still holding his silence?"
As if summoned by the mention of his name — I saw Silas shift slightly behind the guards.
But he said nothing.
Darian continued:
"Teach her the basics."
"Teach her how to feed."
"Teach her our laws."
He glanced at me one last time.
"If she refuses to learn…"
His smile returned — slow and dangerous.
"Then we will force her to."
With that, he turned back toward his throne.
"Take her away."
Guards stepped forward again.
Cassian gave me a small nod subtle but reassuring as they led me out of the throne room.
As I was dragged back toward the servants' area, one thought burned inside me:
They were studying me.
Testing me.
Watching me.
Waiting to see what I would become.
And whether I would survive this kingdom.
Or break under its rules.
Guards dragged me away from the throne room without another word.
I didn't resist this time.
Resistance only brought punishment.
They took me back down through cold stone corridors until we reached the servants' quarters.
The moment the door opened, several maids stared at me.
Whispers followed immediately.
"She's the one."
"The odd vampire."
"Why is the King keeping her?"
I ignored them.
Two female servants approached me.
"Remove her clothes."
My stomach tightened.
They didn't ask.
They didn't hesitate.
They stripped me bare while I stood there motionless — forcing myself not to react to their hands on my skin.
I felt exposed.
Not just physically — but stripped of dignity.
One maid examined my body carefully.
"Check for abnormalities," she muttered.
"There's nothing unusual apart from the eyes."
After confirming I had no hidden marks or strange signs, they handed me servant attire.
Simple.
Plain.
Made of dark fabric.
I dressed quietly.
The clothes felt unfamiliar.
Smaller.
Heavier in a different way.
When I looked down at myself…
I didn't see royalty.
I didn't see a turned vampire.
I saw a servant.
Assigned to the Kitchen
They immediately assigned me to the kitchen.
"Washing duty," one of the head maids announced.
"They don't trust her cooking."
Another maid added quietly:
"She might poison the food."
I didn't react.
The kitchen was large — built with wood and silver fixtures.
Shelves filled with ingredients.
Fresh meat.
Herbs.
Spices.
Everything.
I was placed beside a sink filled with dirty plates.
And I began washing.
The water was cold.
My hands moved automatically.
While scrubbing dishes, I noticed something.
The servants avoided standing too close to me.
Some glanced.
Some whispered.
Some pointed.
But none approached.
I kept working.
Silently.
Patiently.
By the time the plates were clean, my arms felt heavy — but not tired.
Strange.
I realized something.
I did not feel exhaustion.
I had been standing and working since morning — yet my body didn't beg for rest.
When my duty ended, a guard escorted me back.
This time — not to a shared chamber.
To a small separate room.
They had refused to let me share space with other servants.
They said I was "too strange."
I wasn't sure whether to feel insulted…
Or grateful.
The door opened.
And I stepped inside.
The room was small.
But it was mine.
For the first time in my life — something belonged to me.
The air smelled like pine.
Calm.
Earthy.
On a wooden desk stood an unlit candle.
Beside it — a small drawer filled with servant clothing and undergarments.
There was a simple bed pressed against the wall.
Small.
Neat.
Quiet.
I walked toward it slowly.
My fingers brushed the mattress.
Soft.
Real.
Mine.
A strange emotion tightened my chest.
I had rented apartments before.
I had lived in small shared spaces.
But never — ever — had I owned a room.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
My thoughts started drifting.
Do vampires sleep?
I had been walking since morning.
Standing.
Working.
Yet I felt no exhaustion.
No heaviness in my limbs.
Do vampires even feel tired?
Or is sleep unnecessary now?
Another question surfaced.
Do vampires eat?
I had not felt hunger either.
No rumbling stomach.
No craving for food.
Just… emptiness.
Confusion filled my mind.
I lay back on the bed.
Staring at the wooden ceiling.
Maybe this is what it means to be undead.
I stayed awake.
Not because I couldn't sleep.
But because I didn't know if I was supposed to.
Dawn — The Pounding on My Door
I did not remember when night passed.
If I closed my eyes at all — it felt shallow.
Suddenly —
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Someone hammered on my door.
"Open!"
I sat up immediately.
Guards.
"Isolde! You are summoned."
Summoned?
By whom?
"The Master requires your presence."
Cassian.
My heart tightened.
I quickly stood and washed my face before following them.
They escorted me back toward the library.
When the doors opened…
I saw Cassian standing inside.
The room was massive.
Tall bookshelves.
Ancient scrolls.
A large wooden desk.
A chandelier above glowing with candlelight.
He wore a blue robe.
And on his chest —
A sigil.
A symbol that looked like a drop of blood.
He looked different here.
More authoritative.
More composed.
I hesitated.
Should I bow?
Do I bow to him now?
Before I could decide, he spoke.
"Leave us."
The guards exited the room.
I looked at him carefully.
"Should I bow to you?" I asked quietly.
He laughed softly.
"You don't have to do that."
Relief washed through me.
"This session is to teach you the basics."
He gestured for me to sit.
I obeyed.
He began explaining.
"Vampires wandered into Greyhaven by chance — that is what the history books say."
His eyes darkened slightly.
"But the truth is — we founded Greyhaven."
My eyes widened slightly.
He continued.
"Long ago, there was shortage of feed in our original land. Humans were starving. We were starving."
"So we made an agreement with the human king."
He explained how
Humans allowed vampires to live in Greyhaven.Vampires promised protection.Some humans willingly donated blood.It became a treaty instead of war.
He looked at me carefully.
"That treaty still stands."
He moved to the next lesson.
"There are three types."
"Pure-bloods."
"Those born as vampires."
"Sired vampires."
"Those turned by another vampire."
"And rogues."
His expression hardened.
"Rogues exist because one woman refused responsibility."
"She turned humans without guidance and abandoned them."
"They became feral."
"They attacked recklessly."
He looked directly at me.
"You are not a rogue."
"You are sired."
The Sire Bond
He continued.
"As your sire, I share a bond with you."
"That bond allows influence — sometimes connection."
"You may inherit some of my abilities."
He paused.
"My ability is perception."
"I can hear things."
"Sounds that normal vampires cannot detect."
His gaze sharpened.
"You might inherit it."
I absorbed everything carefully.
Before we could continue—
Guards entered again.
"She is summoned by the King."
I sighed.
Not again.
Cassian immediately stood.
"What?"
The guard repeated.
"The King demands her presence."
Cassian turned toward me.
"I will follow."
The guard frowned.
"Only she was summoned."
Cassian stepped forward.
"I am her sire."
"I decide whether she walks alone."
Tension exploded between them.
The guard argued.
Cassian argued back.
Finally —
He looked at me.
"Come."
We walked together toward the throne room.
When the doors opened —
Silas stood there.
Beside the King.
He acknowledged us with a slight nod.
His red eyes studied me briefly.
No hostility.
Just observation.
The King spoke first.
"Silas."
"Proceed."
Silas stepped forward.
He walked toward me.
"Relax."
"Do not resist."
His voice felt different again.
Gentle.
He reached for my hands.
I hesitated.
Then I placed my palms in his.
Instantly
The world vanished.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Then
The alley appeared.
I saw my body on the ground.
Drained.
Weak.
The bastard stood above me laughing.
He taunted me.
He leaned down.
And bit me.
I screamed internally.
"No!"
Silas' voice reached me.
"Calm down."
"You are observing."
I saw Cassian rush in.
I saw them turn me quickly after a lot of deliberation.
I saw panic.
I saw urgency.
I saw my life ending.
And restarting.
Suddenly—
I snapped back.
I collapsed to the throne room floor.
Breathing heavily.
Shaking.
Silas let go of my hands.
The King watched carefully."It is Kael."
Silas confirmed."Yes."
The King nodded.
"Very well."
Then he dismissed everyone —Except me.
I was still on the floor.
My breathing was heavy.
My hands trembled slightly as I pushed myself upright.
The King walked slowly toward me.
His boots echoed across the marble floor.
He stopped directly in front of me.
He looked down.
His gaze was cold.
Unmoved.
"You are pathetic."
The words hit me hard — sharper than any physical strike.He didn't shout.
He didn't even raise his voice.
He simply stated it like a fact.
"You do not carry the presence of a powerful vampire."
His eyes scanned me from head to toe.
"You look… fragile."
My jaw tightened.
Fragile?
I wanted to snap back.
I wanted to tell him I didn't choose this.
That I didn't ask to be dragged into his kingdom.
But I held my tongue.
He circled me slowly.
"Too human."
He stopped behind me.
His voice came from close proximity now — low and calculating.
"Your emotions are loud."
"Your reactions are slow."
"You hesitate before responding."
He walked back in front of me.
"Yet…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You are useful."
That word made my chest tighten.
Useful.
Not valued.
Not respected.
Useful.
"For the meantime," he continued calmly, "we need you."
His gaze sharpened.
"So we will shape you into something stronger."
My fingers curled into fists.
"Then train me," I said before I could stop myself.
"If I am so weak train me instead of insulting me."
A flicker of surprise passed through his expression.
Then…
A slow smirk formed on his lips.
"Stubborn."
He leaned slightly closer.
"You speak to your King as if you are equal."
His tone lowered.
"I admire the courage."
"But courage without discipline is rebellion."
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
He straightened up.
"Enough talk."
He turned slightly.
"Guards."
The doors behind us opened instantly.
Several armored guards stepped forward.
My stomach dropped.
What now?
The King did not look at me when he gave the command.
"Cut her hair."
My breath caught.
My hair?
"Make it shorter."
"The length does not reflect who she is becoming."
My eyes widened.
"No."
The word escaped my lips instantly.
"My hair—"
I stepped backward.
"It belongs to me."
Two guards approached.
Strong hands grabbed my arms to restrain me.
I struggled immediately.
"Let go!"
I twisted against their grip.
My pulse raced.
"Don't touch my hair!"
Maids entered the throne room carrying sharp shears .
The metal reflected under the chandelier light.
My chest tightened.
"No! Please!"
I tried pulling away.
I tried kicking.
I tried twisting free.
The guards tightened their hold.
"You are resisting a royal order," one of them warned.
"I don't care!" I shouted.
"Do whatever punishment you want — but don't take my hair!"
The King watched silently.
His expression didn't change.
He observed my resistance like it was an experiment.
Like he was measuring how long I would fight.
A maid approached behind me.
I felt cold metal press against the strands of my hair.
My breathing became erratic.
"Stop…"
My voice cracked.
"Please…"
Snip.
The sound of shears cutting through my hair echoed loudly in the silent hall.
A heavy strand fell onto the marble floor.
My body jerked violently.
"No!"
I struggled harder.
The guards held me tighter.
Another cut.
More hair fell.
Each strand that dropped felt like something inside me was being erased.
My past.
My identity.
My memories.
"Stop cutting it!"
Tears gathered in my eyes — but I refused to let them fall.
I would not cry in front of him.
I would not give him that satisfaction.
Snip.
Snip.
More hair scattered across the ground.
My breathing slowed.
Not because I accepted it.
But because fighting was exhausting.
The resistance drained out of my body.
My shoulders sagged.
My hands stopped pulling.
The guards noticed.
"She's calming down," one said.
No.
I wasn't calming down.
I was surrendering.
Not to him.
But to the situation.
The maid stepped back.
"It is done."
Silence filled the room again.
The guards slowly released me.
My arms dropped to my sides.
I felt lighter.
Strangely lighter.
My fingers slowly lifted toward my hair.
It barely reached my shoulders now.
Short.
Uneven.
Cut.
I touched the ends carefully.
My throat tightened.
My hair the symbol of my past life lay scattered on the floor like discarded memories.
I slowly raised my gaze toward the King.
He looked at me.
Unbothered.
Unmoved.
"Good," he said quietly.
"That is the first step."
The first step?
Toward what?
He turned away from me.
"Take her back to her room."
"Lock her inside."
"Let her remain there until dawn."
The punishment was delivered casually.
As if confinement was nothing.
As if isolation was routine.
Guards stepped forward again.
I didn't resist this time.
What was the point?
As they escorted me out of the throne room, I glanced one last time at the hair lying on the floor.
They didn't just cut my hair.
They were trying to cut away who I used to be.
But as my fists slowly clenched…
I made one silent promise.
You can cut my hair.
You can lock me up.
You can call me weak.
But one day…I will stand before you without kneeling.