From His Shield to His Nightmare

The ancient Thorne castle had never been so magnificent.

Every vampire lord of note from across the continent was present.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive blood-wine and ancient magic.

I stood alone in the shadows.

Elsie, wearing a priceless gown of moonsilk and wraith-tears, her hair glittering with an elven crown, approached me.

A princess from a dark fairy tale.

She stopped in front of me, her gaze falling to my chest.

I was wearing an obsidian raven necklace.

I had made it from the first blood-red feather Nyx ever shed, a gift for Cedric on my coming-of-age ceremony.

A few days ago, he had Marcus “return” it to me.

“That poor little bird,” Elsie’s voice was sickly sweet but laced with venom. “Now its master has bleached it white and thrown away its last memento. It must be so lonely. Tell me, Alaina, does it hurt to have your existence so easily erased?”

Before I could answer, Cedric’s voice came from behind us.

“My love, what are you chatting about with my fighting doll?”

He strode over, wrapping a possessive arm around Elsie’s waist.

He didn’t even glance at me, as if I were just another piece of furniture.

“Nothing,” Elsie pouted. “I just thought Alaina looked lonely over here.”

“A doll belongs in its place,” Cedric said, his tone cold. “Alaina. Hold your position.”

I raised my goblet of blood-wine to them, a perfect smile on my face. “Yes, my Lord.”

The ancient wraith-chant began, a haunting waltz.

Cedric led Elsie to the center of the dance floor.

They were a perfect pair, bathed in the envious gazes of the crowd.

Suddenly, the candles died. The hall plunged into darkness.

The hall fell silent for a beat, then was torn apart by the sound of exploding curses.

Screams. The shattering of magical shields. The crash of overturned tables.

“Get down!”

“An ambush! Remnants of the Bloodthorn clan!”

Instinct took over. I drew the silver dagger from my thigh and took cover behind a massive pillar.

In the darkness, beams of colored magic shot through the air like deadly shooting stars.

“Elsie!” Cedric’s voice was laced with a panic I had never heard. “Elsie, where are you?!”

More curses flew.

Assassins materialized from black mist, shattering the huge stained-glass windows.

I saw a small, dark orb, pulsating like a heart, whistle through the darkness toward the center of the dance floor.

A “Flesh Bomb”—crafted from living flesh and black magic, devastatingly powerful.

In that moment of life and death, I saw them. Cedric and Elsie.

They were huddled on the other side of the dance floor. Because I had moved, I was also close to him.

The three of us formed a deadly triangle.

The Flesh Bomb landed right in the middle of us.

Time stopped.

Cedric saw the bomb. His eyes shot first to the terrified Elsie. Then to me.

He had one second.

He made his choice.

Without hesitation, he launched himself toward Elsie in a blur of blood, shielding her with his body and a blood-curse shield.

As he lunged for her, he used the floor beside me as a springboard.

A final push.

Toward her.

Away from me.

BOOM!

The bloody mist and shockwave slammed me against the stone pillar.

I heard my ribs crack. Warm blood coughed from my lips.

Shattered stone and glass rained down.

My dress was torn, the black silk stained red.

My raven necklace snapped. The obsidian pendant shattered, its dust dissolving in a pool of my own blood.

Through my blurred vision, I saw Cedric climb from the rubble, Elsie held safely in his arms.

His suit was shredded, but his eyes were only for her.

“Fight back! Tear these filthy bastards to shreds, leave none alive!” he roared.

Then he scooped her up and ran for the side door, the one leading to the safest secret passage.

The sound of curses continued.

I lay in my own blood, listening to my breathing grow shallower and shallower.

He never looked back. Not once. Not to see if the woman who had bled for him for a century was dead or alive.

He had made his choice. He chose his pureblood princess.

And sacrificed his fighting doll.

I lay in my own blood, listening to the slaughter. My breath was fading. I laughed.

My heart was finally dead.

The ambush ruined my plan for a grand exit. Whatever.

I wasn't going to tell him why I left. I wanted nothing more to do with him.

Amid the chaos, a figure in servant's clothes appeared at my side. He helped me to my feet. I dragged my broken body through the crowd of fleeing guests, escaping the cage that had been my prison for a century.

Outside the castle, an unmarked black carriage waited in the shadows.

As I stepped inside, I took one last look at the castle, a mix of blazing lights and black smoke.

I sliced open my fingertip. Using the blood, I whispered the ancient, forgotten words.

"A faithless lord is unworthy of protection. I, Alaina, hereby sever the guardian's contract. The bond is broken, forever."