Three Days to Ash

When my Prince shattered our Eternal Blood Vow for the ninety-ninth time, I dragged my drained, broken body to the Tribunal of Vows. "I am here to request the dissolution of my Eternal Blood Vow with the Prince of the Kindred." Ten minutes later, Damien stormed in with Isabella in tow. The Prince of the Kindred strode toward me, his hand shooting out to clamp around my neck before he slammed me against a cold marble pillar. "You'd go so far as to dissolve our vow just because you're jealous of Isabella's promotion? Has the bloodlust driven you completely insane?" My mother Eleanor's voice echoed icily through our bond. "Forging lab results to play the victim, all for his attention. You've always been so deceitful." Tears of blood welled in Isabella's eyes as she tugged on Damien's arm. "I'm so sorry, Seraphina. I never should have accepted this position. Please, stop putting yourself—and the Prince—through this!" I wiped away the tears of blood seeping from my eyes and faced the tribunal official once more. "I no longer have the protection of a clan. So that I may turn to ash in three days, please help me complete the dissolution ceremony." Chapter 1 I walked through the doors of the Tribunal of Vows for the last time. The sharp obsidian steps stung the soles of my feet, and with every step, a sharp pain shot through my chest, as if my very veins were freezing solid. The final stage of Bloodline Depletion had destroyed my regenerative abilities, making even the simple act of walking an agony. "I am here to request the dissolution of my Eternal Blood Vow with the Prince." The tribunal official looked at my ashen face with sympathetic eyes and asked in a low voice, "Miss, do you not have a clan's protection?" In all the years of our vow, Damien never promised me a true bonding ceremony, nor did he ever bring me to public gatherings. As a result, very few among the Kindred even knew of my existence. "It doesn't matter anymore," I cut him off. "A vampire about to turn to ash has no need for protection." Just as the words left my mouth, the doors of the Tribunal were violently thrown open. Damien's roar echoed throughout the hall. "Seraphina! What kind of game are you playing?" I turned to see the fury blazing in his crimson eyes. Behind him, Isabella glided in, a mask of perfect concern on her face. "You had to pull a stunt like this today of all days?" Damien rushed before me in a few strides. "Isabella was just promoted to Vice President of the Nightfall Group. The entire clan is celebrating her, and you choose today to create this scene?" He raised his hand, and a surge of his power sent me flying. My back slammed hard against the marble wall. Once, my power had been as strong as Damien's, but now, I was too weak to block even the most basic pain. My entire body ached from the impact. A bitter smile touched my lips. In all my centuries as a vampire, I never thought that on the verge of my death, I would be reacquainted with the long-forgotten sensation of pain. It took me a few seconds to remember what day it was. Isabella's promotion party. Damien had specifically canceled a two-day negotiation with the European elders just to celebrate her ascension to the company's executive ranks. And I, his Vow-mate, dying from the final stages of Bloodline Depletion, was berated for 'causing a scene' simply for sending a desperate plea for help through our bond. Tears blurred my vision, but I fought to keep them from falling. Just as I was about to speak, I felt a violent surge of chaos in my bloodline's energy, and blood uncontrollably trickled from the corner of my lips. The droplets splattered on the floor, blossoming like deep crimson flowers on the white marble. Clinging to one last shred of hope, I managed to steady myself and tried to explain, my voice trembling, "Damien, I really didn't…" Damien must have seen the blood seeping from my lips, because his brow furrowed slightly. Isabella's gentle voice chimed in at the perfect moment. "But sister, the Prince rushed over specifically to help you with your troubles…" "I told you not to bother with her. She's nothing but trouble," my mother Eleanor's voice came through our bond. "She's used every dirty trick in the book to get our attention since she was a fledgling. Does she really expect us to fall for such a clumsy performance now?" Damien's expression turned to ice in an instant. "Seraphina, you'd go so far as to harm yourself just to lure me here and ruin Isabella's celebration?" He advanced on me, his fingers clamping onto my chin. Isabella rushed to pull at his arm. Tears filled Isabella's eyes as she looked at me with feigned helplessness, her voice trembling with a pleading tone. "I'm sorry, sister. I shouldn't have accepted this position, it's all my fault! Please, stop torturing yourself! "The Prince has already worried himself sick over you. If you can truly repent, I swear I'll never accept another honor again!" Her every word was a dagger to my heart, pushing me further into the abyss, painting me as the venomous aggressor. Though it wasn't the first time I'd witnessed this touching display between them, my heart still felt as if it were being carved out with a wooden stake each time. It had been a long time since I'd felt the maternal love that should have been mine. Now, it was all poured onto Isabella. But it didn't matter anymore. When you're dying, you tend to see many things with a new clarity. My heart was a barren wasteland. The energy in my bloodline roiled once more, and more blood spilled from my lips. Damien snatched the blood test report from my hand. After a quick scan, he sneered, "Bloodline Depletion? You can't even fake an illness convincingly." The sound of tearing paper filled the silence. The report was torn to shreds, the scraps of paper fluttering down at my feet. His cold gaze lingered on my colorless lips for half a second. As our eyes met, I remembered the deep crimson pools that had once shone with adoration during our First Embrace a century ago, now as dull and lifeless as stagnant water. I raised a trembling hand to wipe away the blood, my body swaying as I turned back to the tribunal official. "I no longer have the protection of a clan. So that I may turn to ash in three days, please help me complete the dissolution ceremony." Damien's body shuddered slightly. He grabbed my wrist. "You'd drag the Tribunal's officials into your little drama just to ruin Isabella's party!" His voice was laced with fury. "This is absurd! "Seraphina, I advise you to come back with me immediately. Don't stand here and humiliate yourself." With his arm around Isabella's waist, Damien turned and walked toward the door without a backward glance. I looked at my reddened wrist and shook my head with a small, bitter laugh. I should have known. He would never believe me, would he? Fighting through the discomfort wracking my body, I unilaterally completed the application process for the dissolution. The moment my body turns to ash, the dissolution decree will automatically appear on Damien's desk. In the last seventy-two hours of my life, I severed the sanguine bond that had drained me dry. And my husband, the Prince of the Kindred, was holding another woman, raising a glass to her glory. Chapter 2 I dragged my dying body back to the manor, stumbling with every step. I had no intention of turning to ash here. I only wanted to take with me the last traces of my existence. I found there was nothing left to pack. I pushed open the door to my former perfumery, only to find it had long been converted into a cold storage room. My perfumer's organ had been shoved into a corner, covered in a thick layer of dust. The essential oils and scent strips I had once so carefully blended were all tossed haphazardly into cardboard boxes. Only the black walnut worktable remained in its original spot, but its surface was buried under a pile of junk. In a corner lay a shattered crystal vial, containing the last remnants of the only gift Damien ever gave me for our First Embrace: a drop of low-grade, desiccated blood amber. I sat at the table and reached out, brushing the dust from its surface. My fingertips froze as they touched a picture frame. It was a photo of us from our First Embrace ceremony. In the picture, I wore a pure white silk gown, and there was still a light in my eyes. Now, the face reflected in the glass was marred by dark, spidery veins, and my pupils held nothing but the stillness of despair. Even Isabella's dressing room was four or five times more luxurious than this storage space. Only the things she no longer wanted were tossed in here. The chambers I should have shared with my Vow-mate had been converted into Isabella's private office a century ago. It had the finest equipment, the most comfortable environment. And I, the rightful wife, had been exiled to this windowless storage room. The piercing ring of a cellphone suddenly shattered the dead silence, violently yanking me from my memories. "Hello, this is Elysian Crypts Eternal Rest," a graceful female voice said. "Miss Seraphina, are you still in need of the 'Twilight Ash Ceremony' you inquired about?" "If you place a deposit now, we can hold it for you for seven days. Otherwise, it will be offered to another noble awaiting their final slumber." That was the resting ceremony I had looked into a month ago. The altar would be covered in pure white rose petals. An exquisite crystal censer would burn my favorite jasmine essential oil. To turn to ash amidst a fragrant aroma as my bloodline faded, carried away on a scented wind. It was the end I yearned for most. Eighty thousand dollars. I glanced at the few hundred dollars in my wallet and fell silent for a moment. "No, that won't be necessary. Thank you." A vampire who couldn't even afford a low-grade potion to suppress her Bloodline Depletion couldn't even afford to die. Just as I hung up, the sound of the door opening made me look up. Damien strode in. He was used to the faint, clean fragrance that permeated the manor, a unique scent of jasmine and something cool like moonlight that clung only to his Vow-mate. Now, the stale, still air of this room repulsed him, filling him with an unexpected sense of loss. His brow furrowed slightly, and he instinctively took a deep breath, trying to catch that familiar scent. But there was nothing. Only dust and mildew. Damien quickly suppressed the discomfort. "What was that on the phone about a ceremony?" he demanded, glaring at me. "Seraphina, I've told you," his voice was as cold as frost, "don't try to win sympathy by wishing death upon yourself. Do you find this amusing?" I didn't want to say anything, but an instinctive explanation escaped my lips. "Damien, I wasn't…" "You weren't what?" he cut me off, his tone growing harsher. "There's nothing to say between us. Don't even think about taking anything that belongs to Isabella." "Some things were never meant to be yours." My nose stung, and my fingers dug into my palms to stop the tears from falling. In the past few days, I had cried more than in all my centuries of existence. He said the celebration, the Vice President position, even all the love, belonged to Isabella. But what about the things that were supposed to be mine? Had he forgotten them all? I lifted my head and looked him straight in the eye. "I just want to ask you one question." "Our two-hundredth anniversary. Do you even remember it?" Damien's expression froze for a second. His gaze drifted unconsciously to the photograph on the table. But he quickly looked away and said coldly, "What are you trying to say?" "You promised me on our centennial that you would hold a proper bonding ceremony for me," my voice was soft. "But later, in front of the entire council of elders, you mocked my 'diluted' bloodline, saying I was unworthy to stand by your side." "Every centennial birthday since then, you've found excuses to cast me aside," I gasped for breath. "But Isabella only has to try a new perfume for you to book an entire vampire-owned island to throw her a party." "Seraphina," Damien's tone softened, perhaps out of guilt, "you're always so focused on these trivial details. We've lived for centuries. My love for you doesn't need to be proven by such things." "I thought you would understand. If you're going to be this fragile and sensitive, you will only continue to disappoint me." I watched the growing impatience in his eyes, felt the pressure of his princely authority. So, in his eyes, everything I did was wrong. My love, my devotion, my suffering, all of it was a mistake. I said softly, "You're right, Damien. I'm not good enough." I turned my back to him, no longer looking. "The safe is in the second drawer on the left. I've left something for you. It will unlock automatically in seventy-two hours." He said nothing and left. The midnight bell chimed, and the room returned to its dead silence. I hugged the old, battered photo frame, feeling my life slip away, bit by bit. Two days left. Chapter 3 I spent the entire night fighting the excruciating pain of my Bloodline Depletion. At dawn, the roar of a sports car engine echoed from downstairs. My parents and Isabella had returned. Even from outside, their angry accusations reached me. "Seraphina, you still have the nerve to come back here?" The door was thrown open violently. The fury in my father Richard's eyes looked as if it could devour me whole. "You ruined Isabella's promotion party! She cried herself sick begging you to stop!" "And you don't feel the slightest bit of guilt?" "Apologize to Isabella, now!" I closed my eyes, a fresh wave of pain washing over me. It's okay. Less than seventy hours left. Once, he had treated me with that same warm, protective instinct. Back then, when I struggled to control my bloodlust, my father would patiently console me. "It's alright, Seraphina. Everyone moves at their own pace." He even scoured the underground black markets himself, searching for the sweetest, purest blood sources for me, soothing my hunger-wracked body time and time again. But everything changed after Isabella arrived. She could hunt independently in her first year after being turned, quickly becoming one of the Kindred's elite and Damien's most capable aide. And I, despite my pureblood title, could barely shadow-walk, and my combat skills were the worst in the entire clan. She replaced me, becoming the brilliant and capable daughter in my father's eyes. And because of the nature of her turning-vow, my father never suspected the venomous heart beneath her gentle exterior. Stranger still, ever since Isabella's arrival, I had grown progressively weaker for reasons I couldn't explain. I was constantly nauseous and dizzy, and even the simplest wounds were incredibly slow to heal. The clan's alchemists said it was a problem with my innate constitution, that I couldn't bear the weight of the Kindred's bloodline. But no matter how hard I tried, my physical condition only worsened. Disappointment began to appear in my father's eyes. "Seraphina, look at Isabella, and then look at yourself. She's so exceptional right after being turned, how can you be so mediocre?" "As Prince Damien's Vow-mate, how can you manage his household in this sickly state? How can you hold your own among the elite?" "If it weren't for that damned pureblood alliance, do you think you could have ever hoped to marry the Prince?" Eventually, the look in his eyes turned from disappointment to shame. It was as if looking at me for even a moment would sully his sight. Isabella was his proud masterpiece. I forced my heavy eyelids open and looked at Isabella, standing behind my parents. "Sister, let's make up, okay? Just like when we were little," her voice was sickeningly sweet, her eyes welling with tears, projecting an image of someone who had been wronged but was still magnanimous. This had always been her specialty. "Do you remember that perfume you made for me?" Isabella took a step forward. "Tomorrow is my official first day in my new position. Could you blend another bottle of 'Midnight Bloom' for me? As a celebration of my new beginning." A flicker of relief crossed my mother Eleanor's eyes, and she quickly urged me, "Isn't this the only thing you're good at? Seraphina, Isabella is offering you an olive branch. You're getting off easy, so hurry up and do it!" I froze. That bottle of "Midnight Bloom" threw me back a century. Back then, not long after Isabella had been turned by my father, I had excitedly blended a perfume for her, carefully selecting the most precious midnight bloom petals. Just because she said she loved the scent of Midnight Bloom, I endured countless burns on my fingers from its essence. While the essence of Midnight Bloom was nowhere near as potent as vervain, for a vampire with a weak bloodline like me, even the fumes during the distillation process made me feel faint. But I gritted my teeth and persisted, finally creating the perfect perfume. The result was that after Isabella wore it, she broke out in terrifying red blotches that same night. The alchemist determined that an ingredient in the Midnight Bloom was incompatible with the source of Isabella's blood. The first thing she did after waking up was to throw herself into Damien's arms, crying, "Your Highness, the perfume was a labor of love from my sister. She said it would be good for my newly turned bloodline… Please don't blame her, it's all my fault for being too greedy!" I stood helplessly outside the door, trapped by Damien's murderous gaze. "I had no idea there was an incompatible ingredient. The formula was perfectly fine…" Damien didn't listen to a word I said. He took my daylight ring and locked me in a sunroom for three whole days. It was a living nightmare. No blood, no water, not even basic shelter. I curled up in a corner of the glass room, the glaring sun scorching my skin, listening to the sounds of laughter from outside as they celebrated Isabella's "recovery." When I was finally let out, my skin was covered in festering sores, and I could barely stand. "Have you forgotten?" I looked coldly at Isabella's duplicitous face. "Midnight Bloom is toxic to you." The mention of this made the atmosphere in the room instantly awkward. Just then, Damien pushed the door open. He heard our conversation and his steps faltered for a moment. In truth, during those three months in the sunroom, even when I was tortured to the point of losing consciousness, I could still sense through our bond that he had come to see me secretly in the dead of night. But none of that mattered anymore. Now, he was completely on Isabella's side. "Toxic?" Isabella let out a soft laugh, a barely perceptible nervousness in her voice. "Sister Seraphina, that was ages ago." She deliberately moved closer to me. "I'm much stronger now. That minuscule amount of toxin is nothing to me. A century of experience has made my bloodline unbreakable." As she spoke, she held out her hand, as if to prove something. "See? I'm not afraid of Midnight Bloom at all." Her nails dug into my skin, the pressure increasing. Just as the pain forced me to wrench my arm away, she "unexpectedly" fell to the ground. And in the moment she fell, I saw it clearly: she emptied a small vial, hidden in her sleeve, onto her own arm. Chapter 4 "Ah—!" She hit the floor hard, letting out a bloodcurdling scream. Almost instantly, angry red welts began to appear on her pale arm. "Isabella!" Eleanor shrieked, rushing to her side. "My God, it's concentrated vervain! She's badly burned!" The burns spread at a visible rate, crawling up her arm to her neck as her skin started to blister. It certainly looked like a severe reaction to vervain. Richard whirled on me and roared, "Seraphina, what did you do to her?" I hadn't done anything but pull my hand away. But I knew it was useless to defend myself. Isabella leaned against Eleanor, whimpering in pain. "Mother, it hurts so much… like I'm on fire… Sister Seraphina, she didn't mean to…" Even in her "agony," she was pleading my case, which only enraged everyone else further. Seeing Isabella's burned skin, Richard turned and roared at me, "Seraphina! You've gone too far!" "I… I didn't…" My explanation sounded feeble and weak. "You didn't what?" Damien strode over, fury blazing in his eyes. "Again! You've hurt her again!" He lifted Isabella into his arms with painstaking care, his movements unnaturally gentle. "I told you, I'm really not afraid of Midnight Bloom anymore…" Isabella rested against Damien's solid chest, her breath shallow. "Maybe… my sister had something else on her hands…" She pleaded for me with her words, but her gaze shot over Damien's shoulder, flashing me a triumphant, vicious sneer. Only I could see it. "What was on your hands?" Damien glared at me. "No one touched her but you!" Watching this perfectly staged scene, a profound sense of despair washed over me. She had planned everything. Including the concentrated vervain liquid hidden in her sleeve. "Seraphina!" Damien roared, lunging at me and seizing my throat. "I should have known how venomous your heart is!" His hand tightened. I struggled to breathe, my vision blurring. But at the very moment he applied force, a searing pain, as if my soul were being burned, suddenly erupted. It wasn't coming from me. It was coming from him. The blood vow lashed out, punishing him for harming his Vow-mate. Damien let out a muffled grunt, his face turning pale. His tall frame swayed, and he was forced to release his grip. I fell against the wall, the dull thud of my back hitting the surface echoing in the room, the taste of blood filling my mouth. "Damien!" Isabella cried out, her face pale with fright. "What's wrong? Why do you look so terrible?" He shook his head, fighting back the stabbing pain that came from deep within his bloodline, and looked at me again. The fury in his eyes was enough to damn me to an abyss. "Get out! I don't want to see you right now." He knew, too, that this bizarre backlash came from me. I slumped to the floor, with nothing more to say. I would no longer feel the sting of their mistrust. My heart, along with my fading bloodline, was now completely numb. Eleanor caught a glimpse of the dark, toxic blood spilling from my lips, and a flicker of pity crossed her eyes. For a split second, I thought I saw the mother from centuries ago, the one who would gently stroke my cheek. But the next second, just because Isabella's cries grew more pathetic, she hastily averted her gaze and turned to comfort the daughter who "truly needed her care." "My darling, how are you feeling?" I coldly wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand and pushed myself up from the cold marble floor. In the corner of the hall stood a worn-out black suitcase, stuffed with the few old clothes I owned. I had packed it days ago. For the past two days, I had been preparing to leave. They watched my actions with surprise, which was quickly followed by biting sarcasm. "What, think you've grown wings? Learned to run away from home? The clan's protection is for your own good, Seraphina. Why can't you see that we're trying to help? If you step out of this building today, you will never be a member of this family again!" My father watched me with a blank expression. "You think running away will solve anything?" Eleanor sneered. "Seraphina, for centuries you've been like this, always trying to escape when things get difficult." "Just as your father said, how could our pure bloodline produce such a failure." Damien carefully settled Isabella onto the velvet sofa, then turned around, his face dark. His eyes held not a trace of warmth, only cold disgust. "Where do you think you're going?" "Away from the Kindred's territory." "Seraphina!" he suddenly raised his voice. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?" "Walk out that door, and you are no longer my Vow-mate, much less the Prince's consort." Centuries of despair had already corroded my soul. My blood core, on the verge of stopping, felt not a single ripple. I no longer feared losing this so-called home, because this family had never truly given me a sense of belonging. "Suits me just fine," I said, dragging the suitcase toward the door. "I was never worthy in the first place." I dragged my suitcase toward the door without a backward glance. Chapter 5 Damien felt a wave of dizziness, as if something had just struck his Blood Core. The formidable Prince actually staggered, catching himself on a cold marble pillar to keep from falling. When he had personally uttered that cruel declaration of banishment, a fierce backlash had scorched him like the midday sun, inch by inch. But his intense pride and anger had blinded his reason. He told himself this pain was Seraphina's fault. It was her weakness and incompetence that were causing him this torment. But he still didn't understand what was happening to him and could only unleash his power in a fit of rage, shattering the nearby floor-to-ceiling window. The sound of shattering glass erupted behind me. Shards of glass scattered across the floor, glittering in the moonlight. Damien stood before the shattered window on the second floor, his eyes blazing with fury. "Seraphina!" His voice trembled. "You get back here!" I stopped and looked back one last time at this place I had once thought was my home. The moonlight fell on the manor's walls, making it look exceptionally cold and desolate. "Whoever regrets this decision will be condemned to the eternal torment of a sundered Blood Core." The moment I pushed open the heavy wooden door, a biting night wind rushed into my clothes. It carried the scent of freedom and the premonition of my demise. Damien stood by the window, watching Seraphina leave. He heard her final words and shuddered. He knew she was weak. Running out into the night, she might be targeted by vampire hunters. He wanted to tell her that his words of banishment were spoken in anger, that he hadn't meant for her to leave. He instinctively wanted to chase after her, but Isabella turned and gave him a sweet smile. "Your Highness, isn't it for the best? When she has nowhere else to go in this cruel world, she'll naturally come crawling back to you." "By then, my dear sister will finally understand that without your noble protection, she is nothing but dirt beneath your feet." Hearing this, Damien felt a strange wave of irritation. He forced himself to halt, but no one noticed that his tightly clenched fists were trembling from extreme restraint. Sharp nails dug deep into his hard palm. Crimson drops of Noble blood dripped from between his pale fingers, hitting the cold floor. I dragged my heavy suitcase and found a dilapidated motel on the edge of the city center. The air was thick with the acrid smell of bleach and cheap tobacco. The wallpaper was peeling, and the carpet was covered in stains. But for me, an exile, this was the only sanctuary I could find. At midnight, the searing pain of Bloodline Depletion ripped me from my nightmares. The agony was like thousands of poison-laced steel needles stabbing relentlessly into my bone marrow, especially at the scar over my heart, a wound I had carved myself. Every breath was a torment. I curled up in agony under the thin sheets, centuries of memories flooding my mind. It was shortly after Isabella had been adopted. She began to take an "interest" in my daily diet. Every time I drank the blood supplements she personally delivered, I would feel a tearing, burning sensation in my veins. The pain caused me to faint frequently during combat training and even cough up black blood. Everyone thought I was just naturally allergic to a component in the synthetic blood plasma. Only now did I understand that it was high-purity vervain, diluted with water. "Seraphina is too fragile. She can't even absorb the most basic energy," the alchemist had sighed. And Isabella was always the first to rush over. "Sister, don't scare me! I'll go get you some painkillers." Then there was a routine border patrol where I was ambushed by vampire hunters in a meticulously planned attack. My patrol route had been leaked. I was cornered in a dead end, hit by several ultraviolet bullets, and left to die in a sewer for an entire night. When Damien's personal guard found me, I was in a deep coma, my body covered in charred, rotting flesh. Isabella's eyes were filled with tears. "It's all my fault I didn't protect sister better. I should have found her sooner." She became the hero, and I became the burden that needed saving. The worst part was the so-called healing blood. Whenever I was injured and weak, Isabella was always the most eager to take on the task of caring for me. She would personally mix the blood for me and gently feed it to me. I thought it was a sign of sisterly affection. But I only grew weaker. Thinking back now, those blood packs must have been laced with a fatal poison. It had been corroding my bloodline, bit by bit. Everyone, including myself, thought I was born unfit to be Kindred. It turned out I had been slowly poisoned for centuries by the "family" I trusted most. Meanwhile, in the CEO's office on the top floor of the Nightfall Group building. Damien sat behind a large ebony desk, but he couldn't read a single word. The agony transmitted through their blood vow was driving him to madness. "Damn it!" he shot up, sweeping the documents off his desk. He had an intense urge to find Seraphina immediately, to make sure she was safe. But his pride wouldn't allow it. He needed a reason. When the message came through our bond, the excruciating pain it carried almost made me lose consciousness. It was from Damien, his tone as cold as frost. "Seraphina, come back and apologize to Isabella at once. Don't think running away will solve anything." I didn't reply. I was too weak to even muster the strength to respond. I just wondered if he felt even a sliver of concern. But that didn't matter anymore. My time was running out. I had maybe one day left. Chapter 6 The next afternoon, an apprentice from the corner coffee shop knocked on my door. He was a kind human boy with eyes as clear as a mountain spring. "Ma'am, you looked very pale yesterday. This latte is on the house." He shyly held out a steaming cup of coffee, its rich aroma dispelling some of the musty smell in the room. In this world, the only one to show me any kindness was a complete stranger, a human. Just as I was about to gratefully accept the coffee, Isabella appeared. She was dressed in a stylish, form-fitting leather outfit, a cruel sneer on her lips. "Sister, hiding in this little rat hole. You've been hard to find." She strode into the room without a second thought and shoved the slender boy hard. The scalding latte overturned, splashing across my cold ankles and raising an angry red welt. "Oops, my hand slipped," Isabella giggled, covering her mouth without a hint of apology. "But you really should stay away from human trash, sister." The boy glared at her angrily. "Why did you do that?" "Get lost if you don't want to die." Isabella narrowed her eyes, her pupils turning scarlet as she unleashed her vampiric aura. The boy's face turned deathly pale, and he stumbled backward. "Oh, by the way, I have some good news for you," Isabella said slowly as she shut the door. "That foolish official who dared to help you with the dissolution? Prince Damien stripped him of his title and exiled him to the forsaken lands." "Look at you. So pathetic. Anyone who gets involved with you is ruined." "The whole clan knows you're an ungrateful traitor now." Hearing this, I felt my entire world crumble. Even the one person willing to help me had suffered because of me. I was a curse upon everyone. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, using all the strength I had. "Because I hate you!" The mask of benevolence on Isabella's face finally shattered, and she let out a shrill, piercing laugh. "You're going to turn to ash anyway, so why not die somewhere far away? Why do you have to stay here and be an eyesore?" "Do you think Damien believes you? From the very beginning, he's seen you as nothing but a burden!" This was the real her. This was the perfect Isabella that everyone adored. My voice was calm as I spoke. "Isabella, I can honestly say I have never done a single thing to harm you." "Where does all this hatred in your heart come from?" "Because you, a useless thing, were born with a pureblood title and the position of the Prince's mate!" She loomed over me, her eyes filled with the venomous fire of jealousy. "All of that should belong to someone strong, like me!" "And I know better than anyone what's really wrong with that broken body of yours." "From the day I moved in, I've been lacing your blood packs with vervain. Drop by drop, slowly rotting your insides." "And that ambush by the hunters? I was the one who handed them the map of your patrol route." I trembled with rage, wishing I could raise my hand and slap her, but the moment I tried, she pushed me to the ground. Of course. How could this dying, withered body possibly stand against a vampire at the peak of her power? She slowly crouched down. "What? Are you angry? Do you feel wronged?" "Too bad there's nothing you, a failure, can do about it!" "You don't even have the strength to kill me!" She pulled a sharpened wooden stake from her sleeve and viciously stabbed it into my shoulder. The splinters of wood sent waves of pain through my bloodstream, the pain making me curl into a ball. "Watching you weaken day by day over the years has brought me so much joy." "Well, once you're gone, I'll be the one and only Princess of the Kindred." The intense pain nearly made me pass out. Isabella, having finally vented her frustrations, straightened her wrinkled leather clothes and left, visibly pleased with herself. She was completely unaware that the phone in the pocket of the jacket I was clutching to my body was in recording mode. The red recording light blinked silently. It had captured every single word of her confession. I struggled to get up from the floor, my clothes soaked with the cold sweat of my agony. Looking at the encrypted audio file on the screen, I let out a wretched laugh. Finally, I could make everyone see Isabella for who she truly was. In the final day of my life, it was time for the truth to come out. At the very moment Isabella attacked me, Damien, in his office, felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his Blood Core. He shot to his feet, knocking his chair over. A sense of foreboding, dark as a storm cloud, enveloped him, making it hard to breathe. "Seraphina…" he murmured, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Chapter 7 Staring at the encrypted audio file on the screen, I sent it with a single tap to Damien and my parents. Then, I sent a backup copy to every member of the Kindred's High Council. As the progress bar moved, Isabella's venomous and triumphant voice echoed in the dead silence: "The vervain in the blood packs, the route for the hunter's ambush, all my handiwork." "So just die peacefully. Once you've turned to ash, I'll be Damien's one and only love." Then, I removed the SIM card from my phone and severed all contact through our blood vow. In the last twenty hours before I turned to ash, I had finally accomplished one remarkable thing. Now, I just wanted to walk the final stretch of my path in peace. The sky had completely darkened, and the neon lights outside the motel flickered with a harsh glare. I dragged my weak body out of the room and headed toward the old antique district on the edge of the city. It was the only place in this world that might still accept me. After walking for over half an hour, I finally reached the small antique shop. Through the window, I saw Maria organizing antiques, her movements gentle and focused. "Miss Maria," I said, gently pushing the door open. She looked up and saw me, her face immediately clouding with concern. "Seraphina? You poor child, your aura has grown so weak." "Can… can I stay here for a little while?" "Of course, sit down and rest." Maria immediately put down the object in her hand and hurried over to support my swaying body. "Your bloodline is depleting. Wait here, I'll get something from the cellar." She didn't ask any questions, just silently prepared some sustenance for me. This unconditional kindness made my eyes well up again. Maria brought a cup of warm blood, which emanated the purest life energy. "Drink this. It will make you feel a little better." I sipped the blood, the warm liquid bringing some warmth back to my cold body. "Child, why are you not at home?" Maria asked softly. "I don't have a home anymore," I answered calmly. "They don't want me." A flicker of pain crossed Maria's eyes. "I, too, lost a fledgling daughter in the Holy War of the last century." "She died on a hunter's stake." "If she could stand before me now, I imagine she would be as gentle and beautiful as you." She reached out and stroked my hair, like a mother comforting her child. "Seraphina, if you're willing, let me take care of you. Think of it as… a balm for the centuries of regret I've carried." I could no longer control my emotions, and tears streamed down my face. In these long, desperate years, it was the first time I had tasted the feeling of being cherished like a mother's child. Not because of any noble title I held, nor because of any benefit I could bring to the family. It was born purely of compassion and love from the depths of her soul. "Come, let's go rest in the back room." Maria helped me to my feet. Her cottage was simple but incredibly warm. Maria helped me out of my blood-stained coat and into a soft, comfortable vintage velvet dress. "Your hair is so beautiful, like starlight in the night sky," she said gently, combing my hair. I nestled into her warm embrace, enveloped by an endless sense of peace. The toxic sores and excruciating pain that had tormented me for centuries seemed to miraculously subside in that moment. "Miss Maria, thank you." "Don't be silly, child," her voice choked a little. "It is you who has reminded me what it feels like to be a mother." I closed my eyes, my consciousness beginning to fade. My bloodline's energy was dissipating, bit by bit, yet my heart was calmer than it had ever been. At least in my final moments, someone truly loved me. As my consciousness began to slip into eternal darkness, I heard Maria whisper in my ear: "Sleep now, child, just like my little daughter… Sleep peacefully…" I tried to return her smile, but I no longer had the strength to even move my lips. I only felt my body growing lighter and my bloodline withering away, as my soul prepared to leave this broken vessel.