Selene woke with a start, the whisper from last night still echoing in her ears; she could still feel the chill that paralyzed her when she heard the voice… she'd never been so frightened all her life, it all felt so real.
She just lay still in the golden wash of the morning sunlight, eyes fixed on a spot on the velvet curtain as it swayed gently. It was stained with… blood!
She pushed herself upright and reached instinctively for the dagger hidden beneath her pillow. A habit she'd developed after years of training; but this time, it wasn't instinct—it was dread. As she reached closer, she realized it wasn't just a stain-it was some sort of logo- a bat on a stake, its wings had unusual markings that creeped her out.
She immediately put on a shirt- inside out -but she didn't care 'I have to show this to someone' she thought and made to run out of her room when suddenly, 'whoosh' a familiar chilling breeze froze her on her mark. Selene desperately tried to scream but she couldn't even feel her body talk more scream
A few seconds later…
"knock knock" two soft knocks startled Selene out of her trance
She looked around confused, 'why did I stand again?' she tried hard to recall but she couldn't place her hands on it 'maybe this marriage is getting to me more than I realize after all' she smiled weirdly as she went to get the door.
As she opened the door she found a familiar face smiling broadly at her
Mara," Selene said, smiling softly
Mara stepped inside with a silver tray and a kind smile. Her gray hair was braided neatly behind her shoulders, and though her back had stooped with age, her spirit hadn't. She'd served the Vireya household for over forty years, but to Selene, she'd always been more than a maid—she was family.
"Tea," she said gently. "To steady your nerves."
Selene offered a tired smile. "That obvious?"
"You always grind your teeth when you're anxious." Mara set the tray down, eyes soft but observant. "You haven't done that since the first time you held a sword."
Selene reached for the cup. "And bled all over the grass," she murmured.
"You were six. And furious."
Selene smiled softly
"I thought you might not have slept at all," Mara said gently, setting the tray down.
"I barely did," Selene admitted. "Too much to think about."
Mara poured a cup of tea, her hands practiced and steady. "I remember the day you were born," she said. "Even then, the air around you felt heavier—like fate already knew your name."
Selene gave a soft, sad laugh. "Do you think fate is kind, Mara?"
The old woman tilted her head. "I think fate rarely is. But I also think it leaves just enough room for choice."
Selene looked down at her hands. "The Binding... I don't know how I'm supposed to walk into it without feeling like I'm betraying myself. Or everyone who died fighting the Dravara."
Mara crossed the room and placed a wrinkled hand over hers. "Your uncle Garran was the bravest man I knew. But he died with bitterness in his heart. I saw what it did to your father, to the whole clan."
"I'm not ready to forgive them."
"I'm not asking you to. But maybe... maybe the better vengeance is survival. Peace. A future where our children don't grow up learning how to kill before they can even read."
Selene looked into her eyes, and for a moment, the world quieted.
"I just don't want to be a pawn."
"You're not. You're the hand that moves the board, whether you see it yet or not."
A long silence passed between them.
Then Mara smiled and brushed a lock of hair behind Selene's ear, just like she used to when Selene was a child trembling after nightmares.
"Come now," Mara whispered. "Get dressed. They'll be waiting in the Hall for the announcement."
And as Selene stood and dressed in the ceremonial deep blue of the Vireya heir, she wondered—not for the first time—if her life will ever truly belong to her again
She quickly cleaned off a tear drop that had managed to escape and made her way to the grand hall
...
The Vireya Grand Hall was carved from pale stone veined with silver, its high vaulted ceiling echoing with whispers of old blood and older secrets. Heavy banners draped the walls—midnight blue with the family sigil stitched in gold thread: a spear piercing a crescent moon. Today, it felt less like a symbol of power and more like a shroud.
Selene descended the steps slowly, every heel of her boot tapping like a judgment passed.
She gently took her seat by her cousin, Miriel, with a courtesy.
Mireille, always eager to sink her claws into scandal, leaned in with a knowing smirk.
"They say Kaelen's beauty is the kind that ruins women," she whispered, eyes sparkling with the thrill of gossip. "Maybe he'll ruin you too."
Selene gave her a flat look. "I'd like to see him try."
"Is that so?" Miriel asked wearing a mischievous smile.
Selene's father, Lord Alaric Vireya, stood at the head of the long obsidian table. Around him were gathered members of the council, emissaries from neutral clans, and a few trusted retainers.
Mara had dressed Selene in a flowing sapphire gown that kissed the floor with every step, its wide sleeves threaded with silver vines that shimmered like frost.
She did not see Prince Kaelen. Not yet.
"Selene," her father said, voice firm and unbending. "Step forward."
She obeyed, her heart a dull roar in her chest. The eyes on her were not warm. Some were curious. Others resentful. And many were laced with fear.
"By decree of the High Blood Accord," Alaric intoned, "we stand today at the precipice of unity or annihilation. Our house, for generations, has borne the duty of keeping the vampire clans in check. But the tides have changed."
He paused, letting the silence settle over them like a curtain.
"To maintain peace, and to prevent another unnecessary war, the Council has agreed to a Binding. My daughter, Selene Vireya, will be joined in union to Prince Kaelen Dravara, heir to the Nightshade Throne."
Gasps stirred. Murmurs festered.
Selene lifted her chin, though her limbs felt leaden. The word joined tasted like ashes.
Just then, the hall's great doors opened.
A tall figure entered—cloaked in deep burgundy, silver clasps gleaming. His steps were unhurried, but deliberate...Kaelen.
His eyes met hers, and for the first time, she saw the prince not as a name or a threat... but as a man—elegant, poised, and disturbingly unreadable.
The council parted like mist before him
He walked over to Selene and bowed. "Lady Selene."
Selene froze.