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The crowd went silent. Even the auctioneer, who had been so eager to continue, paused in stunned disbelief. The tension in the air thickened as every eye turned toward the source of the bid. Selene's breath caught in her throat, her pulse hammering in her ears as she lifted her gaze, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.
The figure standing at the back of the crowd was unlike any other. He was tall—impossibly tall, his presence commanding, suffocating.
Cloaked in black, his figure was like a shadow, his features hidden beneath a dark hood. But it wasn't his cloak or his stature that held her attention. It was his eyes.
Crimson.
A deep, unnatural red that gleamed with a hunger that made her stomach turn. Those eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, everything else in the world faded away. She could feel the pull of them, like an invisible force drawing her in, trapping her in his gaze.
His expression was unreadable, cold, calculating. But there was something else—a darkness in the depths of those eyes that made the air seem to thicken, to freeze.
The auctioneer, recovering from the shock, glanced between Selene and the figure in the back, clearly overwhelmed by the sudden, overwhelming bid.
"Sold!" The gavel slammed down, the sound ringing in her ears like a death knell.
Sold.
Selene's world tilted, and her heart seemed to stop beating for a moment, a shiver ran down her spine. There was something about him that was immediately unmistakable.
It wasn't just the way he moved with effortless grace, nor the unnerving chill that seemed to radiate from him. It was his presence—an aura of power so palpable that it made the very air around him seem to thrum with energy.
His eyes, blood-red and piercing, were the first thing that had caught her attention. They glowed with an intensity that made her skin prickle, as if they could see through her very soul.
It was then that she realized, with a sickening clarity, that this wasn't just any vampire. This was a pureblooded vampire, one of the oldest and most feared of their kind.
The legends she had heard whispered in the darkest corners of the kingdom—tales that had always seemed too fantastical to be true—suddenly became a terrifying reality.
Pureblooded vampires were more than just immortal; they were gods among the creature of night, beings of incomprehensible power, beauty, and cruelty. They were the ruling class of the society, the ones who controlled the destiny of all other vampires, humans, and even the supernatural creatures that lurked in the shadows.
Selene could feel the weight of his gaze on her, heavy and predatory, as though he were studying every inch of her. His appearance was striking—unnaturally beautiful, with sharp, aristocratic features that seemed carved from marble.
His pale skin, luminous in the dim light, only accentuated his otherworldly beauty, making him appear almost ethereal. His silver hair cascaded around his face in a perfect, silken waterfall, adding to the aura of cold elegance that surrounded him.
But it was his presence—his overwhelming power—that set him apart from any other vampire she had ever heard of.
She knew, instinctively, that he was no ordinary creature of the night. The purebloods were not like the lesser vampires she had heard about, the ones who could be destroyed by sunlight, silver, or even a sharp stake to the heart.
Those were myths, the kind of stories that kept humans fearful and obedient. But the purebloods—Selene had heard the truth of their power, and it filled her with dread. They were immortal, bound only by their own desires, and there was no known way to kill them.
The sun, which had once been thought to burn away the darkness, had no effect on them. Silver, holy water, and other weapons of lore were useless. To face a pureblooded vampire was to face a creature that could not die.
It was said that their strength was unmatched, their speed beyond human comprehension, and their senses so sharp that even the slightest movement or sound would give them an advantage.
They could control the minds of lesser vampires and humans alike, bending them to their will with nothing more than a thought. No one dared to defy a pureblooded vampire. And those who did… rarely lived to tell the tale.
His beauty was another terrifying facet of his power. While lesser vampires could appear as monsters, twisted and hideous, purebloods were created to be flawless, almost too perfect. Their beauty was their weapon as much as their strength.
It was said that their allure was so potent, it could seduce even the most resolute of minds, luring victims into their grasp before they even knew what had happened.
To look upon a pureblooded vampire was to fall under their spell, to become helpless in the face of their charisma and perfection. They were creatures of seduction, of hunger, and of insatiable desire—desires that could consume everything in their path.
As Selene stood there, bound and terrified, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her helplessness. She had heard the rumors, the stories of the horrors pureblooded vampires inflicted on those they deemed beneath them. To be sold to such a creature was a fate she could hardly bear to think about.
Her heart pounded in her chest as his gaze never wavered from her, each passing second stretching into eternity. She was nothing to him—merely a pawn in a game she didn't even understand. There was no way she could escape him, no way she could fight against someone with powers that dwarfed her own.
And yet, deep down, Selene felt a flicker of something more. Fear. Yes, but also something else—a strange curiosity, a pull she couldn't explain. His cold gaze held her captive, and she realized, for the first time, that her life was no longer her own.
But what frightened her the most was the thought that she might never have a choice in the matter. In this world, pureblooded vampires ruled over all, and she was nothing more than a plaything to be controlled and discarded.
The life she had known, the freedom she had once taken for granted, was now a distant memory. All that remained was the cold, eternal darkness of a pureblood's realm, where immortality and power reigned supreme—and where her fate was sealed in the crimson depths of his gaze.
As the crowd began to part, Selene's heart raced in her chest. Her mind, fogged with fear and confusion, could barely process the scene unfolding before her. The vampire who had bid on her was no longer in sight, replaced by another figure—tall, imposing, and just as unsettling.
He moved with a grace that seemed almost too fluid, as if the very air around him bent to his will. His features were sharp, his expression unreadable, but there was an unmistakable aura of authority surrounding him. He stepped forward, and the others in the crowd instinctively parted, giving him a wide berth.
Selene's hands were still bound tightly behind her, and the rope chafed at her skin with every movement. She was paralyzed, rooted to the spot as the vampire took a pouch of coins from his pocket and paid the auctioneer.
Without a word, he turned to her, his gaze cold and detached, as though she were nothing more than a brief inconvenience to him. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it wouldn't budge.
"Get into the carriage," the vampire instructed, his voice commanding and calm.
Selene blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. A carriage? She hadn't expected anything like that. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but the overwhelming question in her head was the same: Where was the man who had bought her?
The one who had bid the astronomical price for her. He had disappeared into the crowd without a word, leaving her in the hands of this stranger.
Her eyes darted to the side, and she caught sight of the carriage—a sleek, black vehicle that gleamed in the dying light. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She had seen carriages before, of course, when the rich ladies passed through the market, but this… this was something else entirely.
It was as if it had been carved from shadows, the smooth wood dark and polished, the wheels designed to glide effortlessly over the ground. The ornate details spoke of untold wealth, and the gold trim shimmered in the fading sunlight, almost mocking the world she had just come from.
The poor could never dream of such luxuries. Carriages were for the aristocracy, for those who could afford to be untouchable.
She was supposed to climb into that. Her?
Without thinking, she tried to step forward, but the ropes binding her hands restricted her movements. She felt utterly helpless. It was like being a puppet with its strings tangled, unable to move without the pull of someone else's will. She tried again, her body trembling, but it was of no use.
The vampire who had spoken to her earlier noticed her struggles and let out a sigh, his expression one of mild annoyance. He moved toward her with unnatural speed, grasping her by the waist and lifting her with ease.
His touch was cold, impersonal, and Selene recoiled instinctively. He didn't seem to care, his actions smooth and mechanical. The moment she was seated, he released her with a flick of his wrist, the air between them thick with tension.
As she settled into the plush velvet seats of the carriage, her gaze flickered to the vampire who had lifted her. His eyes, dark and calculating, were fixed on her now, but there was no warmth in them.
He seemed to find her unremarkable, as though she were just another piece of property to be carted off to wherever his master desired.
He sat opposite her, his posture relaxed, though his sharp eyes never left her. Selene couldn't help but wonder who this man was. He was clearly not the one who had bought her, yet he had a similar air of authority, the same chilling presence that radiated from every vampire she had seen.
His attire was impeccable—black leather, silver embellishments, and a dark cloak that trailed behind him as he sat. Everything about him screamed control. But despite the fact that he seemed less dangerous than the vampire who had bought her, she could still feel the weight of his gaze, the power he exuded, and she instinctively knew better than to question him.
She wanted to ask him where the other vampire was, the one who had bid for her with such cold determination. But the words got stuck in her throat.
What if he answered with a punishment, a cruel reprimand, or worse, ignored her entirely? The silence between them stretched, heavy and awkward.
The vampire opposite her, whom she had learned was called Elias, seemed bored. He leaned back slightly, his eyes flicking to her every now and then as he observed her, curiosity glimmering faintly in his gaze.
She was, in his eyes, nothing more than a strange acquisition—a puzzle, a mystery to be solved. He studied her limbs, thin and frail from her time in captivity, and then back to her face, where fear and confusion danced behind her eyes.
Elias had no idea why his master had bought her, either. She was hardly a beauty by any stretch of the imagination, not the type of woman one would purchase for pleasure, nor was she strong enough to be of any use for labor.
She was small, weak, and fragile—certainly not a woman to inspire lust or admiration. Yet Lucien Dravenhart, the vampire king, had paid a fortune for her. That in itself was an enigma.
Elias leaned back against the seat, folding his arms over his chest. His mind wandered, but not for long. He knew better than to dwell on questions that his master had no intention of answering.
Lucien's motives were always unpredictable—impossible to understand fully. But there was one thing Elias knew with certainty: questioning him would lead to dire consequences. And that was something Elias was unwilling to risk.
So, as the carriage lurched forward, taking them farther from the auction house and deeper into the unknown, Elias kept his gaze fixed on the human woman across from him.
She seemed lost, trapped in a world she didn't understand. He wondered, with a hint of curiosity, how long she would survive in Lucien's world. But that was not his concern. His only role was to follow orders.
As the carriage wheels clattered over the cobbled streets, the darkness outside seemed to swallow them whole. The dim light from the flickering lanterns mounted along the carriage's path cast shadows that stretched long and ominous, but Selene hardly noticed.
Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and a strange, suffocating sense of inevitability. She had been taken from the market, from her life, and now, she was bound for an unknown destination—one that seemed to grow more terrifying with each passing moment.
Her hands still ached from the tight ropes that had bound her earlier, but the physical pain paled in comparison to the anxiety gnawing at her insides. She couldn't help herself; she needed to know where she was going.
Where was she being taken? Who was the man who had bought her? The silence of the carriage was maddening, and though she knew it was dangerous, she couldn't keep the question in any longer.
Her voice broke the stillness, trembling with the weight of everything that had happened to her. "W-Where are we going?" she asked, her throat dry, her eyes not daring to meet the vampire's. "Did he buy me? The one who bid for me, is it him who bought me?"
The vampire across from her, Elias, didn't immediately answer. His cold, impassive eyes studied her for a long moment, perhaps weighing her worth or curiosity in his own mind.
He seemed unaffected by her fear, his expression unreadable. But then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice deep and distant, devoid of any emotion.
"Now... you are the property of the Citadel," Elias replied, his words carrying a finality that sent a chill down Selene's spine.
Her heart stuttered. The property of the Citadel?
The Citadel was more than just a place—it was the heart of the vampire realm, an imposing fortress perched high on the mountains, surrounded by darkness and mystery. It was the center of power, wealth, and absolute control, where everything and everyone belonged to its ruler, Lucien Dravenhart.
She had heard whispers of the Citadel before, of its beauty and cruelty, but never had she imagined she would be part of its dark history. To be property of the Citadel meant that she was not just a mere acquisition; she was an object owned by the most powerful and feared vampire in the entire realm.
And with that thought, a sudden realization dawned on her. The man who had purchased her—the one who had bid for her with such chilling certainty—had to be none other than His majesty himself. The Vampire King. The ruler of Eryndor.
Selene's breath caught in her throat. She could hardly believe it, even though the evidence lay in front of her, undeniable. The man who had bought her was Lucien Dravenhart.
Her pulse quickened as the realization set in. She had heard stories, dark tales whispered in hushed voices, of Lucien's cruelty and power. No one dared to speak his name without a certain reverence or fear.
He was a figure of legend, a king of unimaginable strength, a pureblooded vampire whose very presence demanded submission. His name carried with it the weight of centuries, a being so powerful that no one could challenge his rule.
And now, Selene was nothing more than a piece of his vast empire—a pawn in his kingdom of shadows.
Her mind reeled with the implications. Everything in the Citadel belongs to him—the birds, the trees, the stones, the very air they breathed. She belonged to him.
She didn't know what this meant for her, didn't know what fate awaited her in the Citadel, but it didn't matter. It was done. She was no longer her own.
Her eyes flickered back to Elias, but he was still watching her with that same detached gaze. He had given her no answers, no comfort.
He was simply the messenger, the one who delivered her to the inevitable. The one who had taken her from the market and placed her in the hands of Lucien Dravenhart's empire.
What did it mean to be the property of the Citadel? Would she be a slave, a mere servant to be used and discarded? Or was there something worse awaiting her in the dark halls of the Citadel?
Her thoughts spiraled into chaos, but all she could do was stare out of the carriage, the world outside passing by in a blur as she was swept away toward a destiny that was no longer her own.
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