Amelia held the frozen crimson rose like it was a piece of Lucien himself.
The petals were rimmed with frost, delicate yet unyielding — like him. She'd found it on the edge of the forest where he had last stood, where the scent of blood lingered in the snow. Not fresh blood, but something… older. Cursed.
Lucien was in danger. And she had waited long enough.
She packed quickly — a cloak, her sketchbook, a silver necklace that had belonged to her mother. Something told her she wouldn't be coming back the same.
The forest greeted her like an old friend. Silent. Watching.
Every step deeper chilled her bones more than the last, but it wasn't the cold that unsettled her. It was the way the snow changed. No longer white — but pale blue, as if it had absorbed moonlight. Or magic.
Then she saw it — a trail of melted snow, leading between two trees twisted like open hands.
She followed it.The deeper Amelia walked, the more the world bent around her. Time slowed. The wind stopped. The trees began to shift, groaning lowly as if ancient and alive.
Then, through the silver mist, she saw them — gates made entirely of frost, arched and glowing with runes. They pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.
Lucien's world.
She stepped forward — and the gates shivered, responding to her presence.
Suddenly, a voice rang out.
"You're not welcome here, mortal."
A figure emerged from the mist. Pale as bone, black cloak swirling, eyes like cold steel.
Amelia stood her ground. "I'm looking for Lucien."
The vampire arched an eyebrow. "And why should that concern the Frost Court?"
"The what?"
"You stand before the realm of the Bloodbound. No human may cross unless summoned. And you—" he sniffed the air "—you smell of him. Of his hunger."
"I'm not afraid of you," she said, though her voice wavered.
"Then you're a fool," the guard hissed. "But perhaps a useful one."
With a snap of his fingers, the gates groaned open.
"Enter. But know this — once inside, y
ou cannot leave unchanged."The world beyond the frost gate was like stepping into a dream stitched from shadow and starlight.
The sky was black but alive with silver clouds. Trees dripped with icicles that hummed with power. Crimson flowers bloomed from frozen soil. The air itself felt thick with memory.
And all around her… vampires.
They watched her with wary curiosity — some with hunger, others with disgust. But none dared approach her directly.
Not when she carried his scent.
She was led to a grand hall carved from ice and stone. Inside, sitting on a throne draped in black, was Lady Nyssara, one of the last true vampire royals. Elegant, cruel, and impossibly beautiful.
"So… this is the human girl," Nyssara purred. "The one he defied us for."
Amelia's heart thundered. "Where is he?"
"Broken," Nyssara said simply. "Imprisoned for what he is. What he tried to deny."
"No," Amelia breathed. "You can't—"
"You should have stayed in your warm, innocent world, girl. You have no idea what he really is. What he's done."
"I know enough. I know he's not the monster you make him out to be."
Nyssara leaned forward, smiling with fangs. "Then go to him. See for yourself."They led her deep underground — beneath the palace, into tunnels where light dared not follow. Frost climbed the walls like veins.
And there he was.
Lucien.
Chained by frost-bound silver, kneeling in the center of a cell carved from crystal. He looked weaker than she'd ever seen him — gaunt, pale, hair tangled, eyes sunken.
But when she whispered his name, his head snapped up.
"Amelia…"
He surged forward, the chains biting into his skin, and she ran to the edge of the barrier.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, voice like ash. "They'll use you—"
"They already did," she said, kneeling before him. "They said I could see for myself what you are."
Lucien lowered his head. "I'm everything they say, Amelia. And worse."
"No," she whispered. "You're the one who tried to protect me. Who warned me. Who disappeared so I could live."
Tears slipped from her lashes. "Please… let me help you."
For a moment, he looked broken enough to accept it. But then his body jolted.
The chains glowed red-hot. His veins darkened. His fangs snapped forward.
He roared, low and monstrous — a sound torn from something ancient and enraged.
Amelia stumbled back, heart racing.
"Get out!" he growled. "I can't hold it much longer!"
But she didn't run. She stepped forward.The ground shook. Cracks split the walls. A red light poured into the cell.
Nyssara appeared in the corridor, flanked by guards.
"The moon rises," she said coldly. "The prophecy begins. And you, human girl… may be the spark."
Amelia turned. "What prophecy?"
Nyssara's smile widened. "Did Lucien never tell you what you really are?"
Amelia froze.
"What do you mean?"
"Poor child," the vampire queen cooed. "You thought you were just prey. But you're not. You're legacy. You're key. You're bloodbound."
Lucien's head snapped up.
"No," he whispered. "It can't be…"
Amelia shook her head, stepping back. "What are you talking about?"
Nyssara's voice was smooth and cruel. "You carry the blood of the Winter Queen — the last mortal to ever love a vampire. Your soul is the price of the curse. You were always meant to end him."
Amelia's chest tightened.
"No… That's not true. I'm just a girl."
Lucien stood slowly, eyes wide with horror. "She's telling the truth."
Outside, the blood moon burned brighter, casting the ice halls in red.
Nyssara's voice echoed:
"Tonight, the curse breaks. But only if one of you dies."
Amelia and Lucien locked eyes — and the prophecy screamed between them.
"Then let go," she said. "I'm not afraid."
He stilled.
Their eyes locked.
And then—**
BOOM.**