“Naomi, you have to tell me. Why are they here?” I pressed, trapping her in the dimly lit corridor, my voice sharp with suspicion. This was seriously strange.

“I can’t,” she whispered, her eyes darting nervously before she practically bolted, her retreating footsteps echoing my own rising anxiety.

Ugh, secrets. My first instinct was to storm Father’s war room and demand answers. Vampires and Minx mingling? Since when? The only thing we ever exchanged was bloodshed, not pleasantries. I stomped towards the meeting room, ready to unleash my royal wrath, but stopped short. Picking a fight with Father in front of a pack of bloodsuckers? Not the smartest move. It would just fuel his already-infuriating disapproval of me, adding another scar to our battlefield of a relationship. Grumbling under my breath, I retreated to my room, the cloying, silvery scent of vampire clinging to the air like a bad omen.

Flopping onto my bed, the cool silk a welcome contrast to the simmering frustration inside me, I squeezed my eyes shut. What the hell is going on? Why am I the last to know? Just as my annoyance reached a fever pitch, Dom slipped quietly into my room. Candlelight flickered across his caramel-toned face, accentuating his familiar features. Though a soldier, and thus beneath my station, even I couldn’t deny his appeal.

“Dom! What are you doing here?” I hissed, peering down the hall before quickly shutting the door. “We have a system for a reason! What if someone saw you?”

“Relax, Lor. Everyone’s destracted by our visitors,” he replied, his voice calm, but with an underlying urgency that set my teeth on edge.

“So, the entire castle knows what’s going on except me?” I snapped, the words sharp with annoyance.

“Just the soldiers.”

“And Naomi,” I muttered, my jaw tight. Traitor. It stung that my maid was privy to royal affairs while I was kept in the dark. “Are you here to tell me you can’t say anything either?”

“No, I came to warn you.” He ran a hand through his thick, black curls, the silver rings on his fingers glinting in the candlelight. “Don’t let your father know I—”

“Just tell me!” I practically yelled, my patience snapping like a dry twig.

“Your father is offering them a peace treaty.”

“A peace treaty? That’s insane! How?” My voice trembled, a ripple of unease spreading through me.

“A marriage alliance.”

“Marriage? Who’s going to—” The horrifying realization slammed into me like a physical blow. “No. It can’t be—”

“Yes, Lor.” Dom’s voice was soft, filled with a sorrow that mirrored my own.

My mouth went dry, the room spinning. I stumbled back, clutching at my throat, desperate for air. Dom reached for me, but I flinched away. “Don’t,” I choked out. Each breath was a struggle, a physical manifestation of the pain that tore through me. How could Father do this?

He hesitated, then cautiously placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Lor,” he murmured, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my skin.

“Get out,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

“Loretta, we need to talk—”

Anger surged through me, hot and blinding. I shoved his hand away. “Just leave! I don’t want to talk. Get out!”

“Princess, I understand you’re angry, but—”

“Get the fuck out of my room!” The words were raw, ripped from the gaping wound in my chest. The hurt in Dom’s eyes twisted something inside me, but he obeyed, his expression a mixture of resignation and heartbreak.

Stolen story; please report.

I slammed the door, my ear pressed against the cold wood, a desperate sliver of hope flickering that he might return, offer some solace, some impossible escape from this nightmare. But his station, his duty, bound him as tightly as mine bound me. Only silence answered. A heavy, suffocating silence thick with the bitter taste of betrayal. The urge to run after him, to offer a whispered apology, a desperate explanation, was almost unbearable. I’m so sorry, Dom. I’m so, so sorry. But the weight of duty, the searing injustice of it all, held me captive. I had to face my father. I had to fight this alone.

Taking a deep breath, I marched down the red-carpeted corridor, each step a declaration of war. Past the kitchens, past the dining hall, and into the cavernous library. Father’s office loomed at the back, a dark fortress behind imposing double doors. Hesitating only for a heartbeat, I pushed through, resolve hardening my heart.

The room crackled with tension. Father sat at his desk, encircled by a cadre of vampires, their dark figures radiating a palpable aura of power and intrigue, their voices a low murmur of hushed conversation. Their gazes snapped to me, predatory eyes assessing my intrusion. But it was the prince—Neltavio—who captured my attention, his gaze a magnetic force I couldn’t escape.

The stories of his brutality hadn’t prepared me for… this. He radiated power, a dark, compelling energy that made the room tilt on its axis. The scar above his eye, a stark reminder of our bloody history, didn’t detract from his unsettling beauty. If anything, it added a dangerous edge.

He watched me from his seat, a slow, predatory smile curving his lips. Heat flooded my cheeks, settling low in my stomach. Why does he affect me like this? I loathed the involuntary reaction, the way my body betrayed me.

“Father, we need to talk,” I managed, forcing my gaze away from the infuriatingly captivating prince. But the words felt weak, lost in the suffocating tension.

“I’m guessing someone’s already filled you in on the wonderful news,” Father said, his voice laced with disapproval.

“Wonderful news?” I retorted, unable to keep the disgust from my voice.

“Now that you’ve graced us with your presence, perhaps you could introduce yourself.” Father’s eyes glittered with a warning, daring me to disobey.

I let the silence hang for a beat, then said, “Hi.” The word was clipped, a shard of defiance in the tense atmosphere.

Father cleared his throat, a strained smile plastered on his lips. “Prince Neltavio, King Serphen, allow me to present my daughter, Princess Loretta. We are both overjoyed at the prospect of uniting our families through this alliance, securing a lasting peace.”

“Speak for yourself! I will not go through with this!” My declaration hung in the air, a challenge thrown down like a gauntlet.

King Leonebus’s reaction was immediate and furious. His lips peeled back, revealing sharp, predatory fangs. He rose, a storm gathering force, and for a terrifying moment, I thought he might actually attack me. Instead, he grabbed my arm, hauling me towards the exit. I wrenched myself free, my defiance flaring.

“I refuse to leave!” I shouted, my gaze sweeping over the assembled vampires. “This meeting, this farce, needs to end! None of you are welcome here!”

“Get out, Loretta!” Father’s voice cracked like a whip.

Humiliation burned in my cheeks as I backed out of the room, the weight of my failure crushing me. I spun on my heel and fled, my mind a whirlwind of anger and betrayal.

Back in my chambers, I paced, the mirror reflecting my inner turmoil. What in the seven hells is going on? A marriage to secure peace? Using me as a pawn? This is absolute lunacy. I stared at my reflection, hating the helplessness that clung to me.

An hour crawled by, each tick of the clock amplifying my frustration. Then, a soft knock at the door broke through my swirling thoughts. Expecting Dom, I flung it open. Instead, it was Prince Neltavio. His presence radiated through the doorway, instantly suffocating the room. My lungs seized.

He was tall and lean, but with a wiry strength that radiated from him. Pale skin, stark against the darkness of his hair, and eyes… Eyes that were like black ice, captivating and chilling all at once. The stories of his ruthlessness hadn't prepared me for how utterly… breathtaking he was. It was infuriating.

The corners of his mouth tilted upwards, revealing a flash of sharp fangs. His gaze held mine, dark and compelling, stealing the words from my tongue. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak.

“What the hell are you doing at my door?” I glanced down the corridor, realizing it was just him and me. Suddenly, my room felt smaller, the air thick with his unsettling presence. “Who let you come here?” I managed, my voice tighter than intended.

“That’s certainly a… memorable way to introduce yourself to your future husband,” he said, his expression unreadable.

“We met downstairs. Why are you here?” My voice wavered slightly, a tremor of unease beneath my forced composure. Despite my attempt at authority, I could feel myself unraveling under his intense gaze.

“That, my dear princess, was hardly an introduction.” He stepped closer, his height casting a shadow over me. A shiver, involuntary and unwelcome, danced down my spine. “More of a dramatic performance, wouldn’t you say? Truth be told, I’m not particularly thrilled about this arranged marriage either, but alas, such are the sacrifices we make for the greater good.” His voice, smooth as dark velvet, held a hint of steel. “So, tell me, spoiled, is that dramatic display your typical response to not getting your way?”

“When it involves a bloodsucking beast, yes. Now, why are you here?”

“Is that truly how you see me, spoiled?” His jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, instantly hardening into a predatory gleam. He invaded my space, his dark, smoldering gaze holding a silent promise of retribution. He studied me, a slow, deliberate perusal that made my breath catch in my throat. “I see right through that bossy facade, Princess.” The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, made me shudder. “Beneath all those layers of indignant defiance,” his voice dropped to a husky murmur, sending another involuntary tremor through me, “is a girl yearning for a man to put her in her place.” He paused, his eyes glinting with a dark amusement as he watched the blush rise in my cheeks. He leaned closer, his voice a low, seductive purr that sent shivers down my spine. “What I could do, with just a touch, a whisper…” He trailed off, his gaze lingering on my lips, leaving the unspoken promise hanging heavy in the air. He eased away, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he’d just discovered a delicious secret.

“You’re delusional,” I retorted, my voice trembling slightly, despite my attempt to maintain a defiant facade. “And you disgust me. You think a few whispered threats will intimidate me? You’re wrong.” I stepped back, putting as much distance between us as the confines of my room allowed. “I won’t marry you. I won’t be controlled by you. And you certainly won’t ever touch me.” My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the rising tide of fear and… something else. Something I refused to acknowledge. I loathed how easily he unsettled me, how my body reacted despite my mind’s furious protests.

“Such defiance, spoiled. Such fire. It’s intriguing.” His gaze lingered, possessive and unnerving, before he straightened, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sleep well, princess." And with that, he turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving me trembling in the wake of his potent presence, the unsettling certainty that sleep would be a long time coming. Despite my fury, despite my fear, one terrifying truth lingered: some twisted, rebellious part of me ached to know exactly what Prince Neltavio could do.