Chapter 3
1076words
To the east came Grey's wolf clan—black wolves bearing dowry wrapped in rough cloth, strings of dried meat swinging in the breeze, their howls shaking snow from branches. To the west rolled the Valerian carriage—sleek black trimmed with silver that caught the light like frost. Blood jade emblems glittered against the snow. Even the horses wore saddle blankets embroidered with silver runes.
I watched from my attic window, fingernails biting into the wooden sill.
Below, Seraphina stood on tiptoe in her blue dress, accepting the wolf fang necklace from Grey with a crescent-eyed smile. Nearby, the Valerian butler placed redwood chests on the ground with such grace they made no sound—a stark contrast to the dull thuds of the wolf clan's offerings.
"Just a parasite clinging to creatures who can't bear sunlight," Seraphina's sharp voice carried upward.
She clutched the wolf fang until her knuckles whitened, her skirt hem dark with melted snow. Father stood beside her, surveying both families' gifts with an ambiguous cough, not joining her insults.
Lucy entered my room. "Miss, Lady Victoria says the old agreement requires you to receive the betrothal gifts yourself."
I touched the Bronze Contract Ring hidden inside my dress, remembering Lady Victoria's warning three days ago: "If you wish to keep the herb garden, don't interfere with Isabella." Father's face had turned to stone.
I descended to the front courtyard, where two distinct scents assaulted my senses.
The wolf clan's gifts reeked of raw meat, their rough cloth wrappings revealing blackened barley cakes and tarnished bronze bracelets. The Valerian family's redwood chest lay open, displaying perfectly arranged silver-leaf flowers and moonlight grass. The steward opened another box to reveal a blood jade pendant—my family's Morning Star crest carved into its surface—nestled on black velvet.
"Young Master Leicester had this made specially," the steward said, placing the pendant in my hand. "The old agreement states that gifting a family crest demonstrates respect for the new alliance."
The jade felt cool against my skin. In my previous life, when I married into the wolf clan, Father had given me only a faded red dress. Seraphina had laughed then: "Wearing anything nice would be wasted on her."
"It's just worthless stone!" Seraphina lunged forward, grabbing for the pendant.
A maid stepped between us, Silver Dagger flashing in warning. Seraphina's face darkened with rage. She shot me a venomous glare before storming back to the wolf clan's group. Grey steadied her with obvious impatience in his eyes.
Father leaned close. "Behave yourself after you marry into their house," he whispered. "The Valerian family is not one to cross."
I clutched the pendant, my throat tight. "Are you worried about me, Father? Or just Mother's herb garden?" He avoided my eyes, turning instead to greet Grey.
After the ceremony, I rode in the Valerian carriage to their manor in the Black Forest.
A blood jade statue atop the manor's spire emitted a faint crimson glow. Leicester waited at the entrance, his light gray attire buttoned high at the collar—likely hiding the Sunlight Scar on his chest.
"Did you bring enough herbs?" His gaze fell on the medicine box in my hands, which held Mother's belladonna powder and healing remedies.
I dangled the pendant playfully. His lips curved into the ghost of a smile as his fingertips brushed my hair. "The wedding is set for the blood moon, seven nights from now. Grandmother says the contract will be strongest then."
For the next week, I occupied the west wing of the manor.
By day, I studied vampire etiquette. By night, I tended the herb garden—the Valerian estate boasted beds of Moonflowers whose fragrance cut through the winter chill. Leicester would bring ancient texts on Contract Magic, quietly pushing the heater closer when I read late into the night. Sometimes he'd watch in silence as I brewed silver leaf tea.
"It helps with headaches," I told him once, offering a steaming cup.
He sipped cautiously. When he lowered the cup, the shadows beneath his eyes had lightened. His fingertips traced the cup's rim in thoughtful silence.
On our wedding day, the blood moon hung impossibly red—like the final streak of color I'd seen in the sky as I died on the wasteland.
I wore black velvet, silver embroidery catching light at the hem. My medicine box—filled with herbs and datura powder—hung at my side. Leicester waited at the altar, tall in dark crimson, his collar open to reveal an angry red burn mark.
"Are you cold?" He offered his arm, his touch cool yet somehow comforting.
I shook my head, my eyes catching on his burn. My mind flashed to Seraphina's wolf fang necklace—which had once pierced my palm in another life. Leicester noticed my distraction and squeezed my hand gently.
Lady Victoria unrolled the ancient covenant scroll. As she intoned "blood as pledge, contract as proof," the Blood Jade Ring burned against my skin.
The Bronze Contract Ring heated in response, the two sensations twining together like lovers. Leicester's hand stilled momentarily. When he looked down at me, his eyes held the gentle warmth of winter's first thaw.
"Thank you for trusting me," he whispered as we exchanged rings, his voice barely steady.
"And thank you for giving me a chance to truly live." I studied his burns, thinking of the remedies I'd been preparing each night.
After the ceremony, Leicester led me to his study.
On his desk lay a map marking royal guard outposts. He pulled his collar wider, revealing grotesque burns that looked almost black in the lamplight. "The king's Blood Curse causes unbearable pain in sunlight. I have three years at most."
I placed a silver-leaf flower in his palm. "Brew this for the pain. We'll find the source of the curse together."
He took my hand, our rings touching with a musical chime. Moonlight spilled across our joined fingers, somehow softening the angry appearance of his burns.
This blood moon marked not an ending but a beginning. All the glory Seraphina craved would prove nothing but illusion.
Everything owed to me, I would reclaim piece by piece. And this man beside me would stand with me through it all.
A breeze carried the scent of Moonflowers through the window—gentler than the harsh winter nights of the Black Forest, and worlds away from the bloody wasteland where I'd drawn my last breath.
