I was woken up by the cold, icy breeze. I was back in that same room, its shattered windows allowing the dawn’s light to pierce through, painting everything in harsh, fragmented colors. I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my mind, my thoughts sluggish and scattered. The memory of the ritual hung over me like a shadow, the pain still fresh, echoing through my veins.
The chill from a broken window pulled me back into consciousness. I pulled the thick blanket tighter around myself, trying to shield against the cold that cut through the room like a knife. Slowly, memories trickled back—his voice, his eyes, the pain of the blade. I glanced at my wrist, the fresh scar still tender and pulsing, a reminder of what had been taken and what I was now bound to. His voice echoed in my mind, calm and commanding: “We’ll talk about what we can and cannot negotiate.”
Negotiate. The word twisted inside me. What was there to negotiate when I was already marked, claimed? It was done. His words, “Now, you’re officially mine,” hung over me like a noose. I felt a flicker of resentment, like a match sparking in the darkness. I didn’t even have the strength to feel truly angry, but the thought was still there, burning quietly beneath the surface. He didn’t even give me a warning. He just took.
No. There had to be a way to make this bearable. I could clean, fix the windows, maybe even get him to bring me some books. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Anything was better than sitting here, feeling the weight of his presence, waiting for him to drain my blood dry. What chance does a human girl like me have against a vampire? None. But that doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for him.
I stood up, a new, small flicker of determination building inside me. A thick stone barrier edged the balcony, inviting me to sit and dangle my feet over the side. I stared at the sky and wondered if my mom and dad had noticed I was gone. How would they react when they found the table empty and my bed unmade? Would they even notice? Or would they just be relieved to have one less disappointment to manage? What about Blake? I’m sure he’ll be worried and come to our house to check in on me, but I won't be there.
I let my gaze wander over the desolate mansion, trying to find any hint of solace or sense. My thoughts circled endlessly, grappling with the enormity of my situation and the small, persistent hope that somehow, amidst all this chaos, there might still be a path forward—one I could somehow control.
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Contract of Agreement
FREYA CASRIELLE ASHETONN & CALIX EZEKIEL VANHEIN
Terms and Conditions:
The human shall not leave the premises unless expressly permitted by the vampire.
All details regarding this contract and the bond between the parties must remain strictly confidential. No one, aside from the undersigned, shall be made aware of its existence or terms.
The vampire is obligated to ensure the human remains in good health.
The human is required to sustain the vampire by providing their blood as needed.
The vampire must ensure the safety and protection of the human at all times.
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Any violation or breach of the aforementioned terms will result in severe consequences, to be determined and enforced accordingly.
Signatories:
FREYA CASRIELLE ASHETONN
CALIX EZEKIEL VANHEIN
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I wrote the contract onto two sheets of paper, so we each had our own. So this was what he meant by 'negotiate.' The word tasted bitter on my tongue as I read through the terms again.
“I guess this is good enough,” I muttered, handing him the other piece. The fifth clause stood out like a beacon of false security. He was the greatest threat to my existence, yet here I was, bound to him by words on a page. But what did it matter? The real contract was seared into my skin, marked on my wrist, binding me in ways ink and paper never could.
I stared at him blankly, the realization sinking in deeper. Am I going to be trapped here in this decaying mansion, just waiting for him to drain the life out of me?
No. I told myself, pushing down the rising panic. Stay calm. You can still make the best of it. I could keep myself busy, do anything but sit and wait like prey. He’s a vampire—there’s no real escape. But like I said, I wouldn’t make it easy for him.
Calix took the paper and stood up, his movements smooth and deliberate. “Come with me.” His tone left no room for hesitation or questions.
I looked up at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking, why he suddenly wanted me to follow. But what choice did I have? I got to my feet, feeling the pull of the mark on my wrist, a constant reminder of the invisible leash tethering me to him.
“We’ll get your necessities,” he said, as if reading my mind. My forehead creased in confusion. Could he read my thoughts?
“No, I can’t read minds,” he answered, his voice calm and assured, as though he had anticipated my question before it even formed on my lips.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
My eyes widened with a mix of surprise and discomfort. How could he know exactly what I was thinking if he couldn’t read minds?
"Then how...?" I began, my voice trailing off.
He met my gaze with an unwavering stare. “I know more than you think.” he said, his tone carrying an undercurrent of warning.
A shiver ran through me. Every interaction, every word, felt like a calculated move in a game I didn’t know how to play. I followed him without a word, knowing that any challenge would likely end with me on the losing side.
As we moved through the mansion in silence, his footsteps were so soft they barely registered against the crumbling floor. The air was thick with dust, the scent of decay clinging to every surface, reminding me of just how isolated this place was. I kept my gaze low, focused on the back of his figure as he led the way. His movements were fluid, almost graceful, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of our surroundings.
My thoughts circled back to the contract, the words on the paper still fresh in my mind. Each clause felt like a chain, binding me tighter to this life I hadn’t chosen. The notion of him ensuring my safety was almost laughable, considering he was the one who had dragged me into this in the first place.
Yet, there was something unsettlingly calm about him. The way he carried himself, the precision in his actions, like everything was a carefully rehearsed dance. It was as if he had done this before, and the thought sent a shiver down my spine.
We descended a wide, spiraling staircase, each step creaking underfoot. The lower level of the mansion was just as desolate, filled with shadows and half-forgotten remnants of a time long past. The cold seemed more intense here, wrapping around me like a physical presence.
“Why do you live here?” I asked, breaking the silence, my voice sounding small and uncertain in the vastness of the space. I couldn't keep my mouth shut with all the questions I had in my mind.
He paused, half-turning to glance back at me. His expression was unreadable, his eyes catching the dim light. “It serves its purpose,” he replied simply, offering no further explanation.
“Purpose?” I echoed, trying to keep my tone casual, as if the answer didn’t matter much. “What kind of purpose?”
He started walking again, his pace unchanging. “A place where no one asks questions. A place forgotten by the world, just as I am.” His voice was low, almost thoughtful, and for a moment, I thought I heard a trace of something else—regret, perhaps? But it vanished before I could be sure, replaced by the cool detachment I had come to associate with him.
I wanted to ask more, to dig beneath the surface of his cryptic responses, but a part of me hesitated. Pushing him too much might be dangerous. Still, his answer left me with more questions than before. Forgotten by the world? It was hard to imagine someone like him being overlooked. He was too commanding, too present.
“What did you mean earlier?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “About knowing more than I think?”
He stopped in the middle of the room, turning to face me fully. For a moment, he just looked at me, his gaze piercing and unblinking. “It means that nothing you do is beyond my notice, Freya. I see everything, even what you try to hide.”
His words were delivered with a quiet intensity that made my skin prickle. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my expression neutral. “That sounds like a lot of work,” I said, attempting to deflect the tension with a half-hearted joke.
He didn’t smile. “It’s necessary.”
The weight of his statement settled over me, the unspoken warning clear. Any thoughts of rebellion, of finding a way out, would not go unnoticed. I had no idea how much power he truly had, but the way he spoke, the confidence in his tone, made me believe he could back up every word.
My resolve wavered, but I held on to that small flicker of defiance that had kept me going. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me broken. Not yet.
We stepped outside, the bright morning sun warming my skin. The world felt almost normal in the daylight, as if everything were just a bad dream. But the man walking beside me was a constant reminder of my reality. I glanced at him, expecting some sign of discomfort in the sunlight, but he looked untroubled. His pale skin didn't burn, his eyes didn't squint; instead, he seemed to thrive under the light, his appearance almost radiant. Whatever he was, he was powerful.
He led me to a sleek, black car parked on the cracked driveway, weeds pushing up through the concrete. I slipped into the passenger seat, the soft leather cool against my legs. As he started the engine, I found myself staring at him, still trying to make sense of everything. He caught my gaze and then looked away.
"You're safer with me than you realize," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he drove.
Safe? How ironic.
I bit my tongue, restraining myself from a retort. I doubt he understands the gravity of my situation. After all, I’m just human.
The car ride was silent, the only sound coming from the tires humming along the road. I stared out the window, watching the scenery blur by. Calix sat beside me as his hands stayed steady on the wheel. He hadn't said a word since.
Every now and then, he'd lick his lips, as if tasting the air, or maybe just swallowing the hunger he didn’t seem to want to talk about. A shiver ran down my spine, and I turned my attention back to the passing trees and houses. Anything was better than looking at him right now.
Boredom started to creep in, mixing with the constant fear that seemed to sit in my stomach like a stone. If he was willing to take me to a mall, maybe I could find ways to make him regret it.
The thought made me smirk, imagining filling a cart with clothes, makeup, food—anything to inconvenience him. It was a small act of rebellion, but it made me feel a tiny flicker of control. I let out a small, satisfied laugh, feeling a momentary lightness.
“What’s so funny?” Calix’s voice cut through the silence, his head tilting slightly as he glanced at me.
“Careful with those thoughts, Freya,” he said, a faint smirk playing at his lips. “They might get you into trouble.”
I shrugged, not bothering to answer, letting his warning hang in the air. I was still lost in my plans, already imagining the look on his face when I pushed his limits.
Without warning, Calix hit the brakes hard, and the car jerked to a sudden stop. My body lurched forward, but the seatbelt held me in place. My heart pounded in my chest as I shot a glare in his direction, about to ask what his problem was when I noticed his eyes fixed on something outside.
A woman stood in the middle of the road, as if she had appeared out of nowhere. She was staring straight at our car, her eyes wide, her face pale. Calix's gaze was locked on her, an expression I couldn't read spreading across his features. It was like he recognized her, like she was the last person he expected to see here, in the middle of the road, in the light of day.
For a moment, everything was still. The woman, Calix, the car—it all felt suspended in time. I could hear my own heartbeat, rapid and loud in my ears. Who was this woman? And why did Calix look at her like that?
“Stay here,” Calix said sharply, his voice tight. His hand was already on the door handle, his eyes never leaving the woman in the road.
Before I could react, he stepped out of the car, leaving me alone, my mind buzzing with questions.