Chapter 1
Seraphina
"Hell no. Absolutely not," I snarled, glaring at my sister—the Queen. Freya might have ruled over the witches, but she was still my sister. That thin bond of familial love was the only reason I dared to speak to her like this. If anyone else tried, their head would've rolled before the words even left their mouth.
"This isn't a request, it's an order Seraphina," Freya said, her voice calm but firm. "You will marry the Vampire King."
The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the sound of my boots clicking against the polished obsidian floor as I paced. My fingers itched to grab something sharp—anything—and hurl it at the nearest wall. It was taking everything I had not to let my control slip.
"You want me to marry him?" I spat, my tone sharp and disrespectful. "Have you lost your damned mind, Freya? Do you even hear yourself? The Vampire King? You can't be serious."
"I am," Freya said simply.
I laughed bitterly, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls. "You're throwing me to the wolves—no, worse. The lions. The bloodthirsty ones with fangs and claws that rip through flesh like paper."
"It's not a choice, Sera. It's a necessity," Freya pressed, her tone softening just enough to make my skin crawl. She knew exactly how to convince me.
"A necessity? That's what you're calling this insanity?" I stopped pacing and rounded on her. "Do you understand what you're asking me to do? You want me to stand before a monster—a creature who probably bathes in the blood of witches—and smile. You want me to play the part of a lovesick bride while he sharpens his knives behind my back. And for what? Some pathetic peace treaty that won't last a decade?"
Freya's jaw tightened, but she didn't back down. "This marriage is the only way to prevent another war. You know the Vampires have always hunted us, always craved our blood. They don't need a war to kill us—they do it in the shadows, one by one. If this union can stop that, even temporarily, it's worth the risk."
"Risk?" I hissed, stepping closer. "You're not risking anything, Freya. I am. You're sending me to the slaughter, and you know it. Don't try to dress this up as some noble sacrifice for the greater good. You're throwing me into the lion's den and hoping I don't get eaten."
Freya's gaze hardened, her calm demeanor cracking just slightly. "This isn't just about you, Seraphina. It's about all of us. Our people. The Vampires' strength surpasses ours. Even our strongest spells barely scratch their defenses. You've seen what happens to normal witches when they're caught. Do you really think they'll survive another war?"
She didn't need to spell it out. I knew.
Our blood—the essence of witches—was a source of unimaginable power for Vampires. Drinking it gave them strength, enhanced their abilities, and prolonged their lives. The wars between our kinds had left scars deeper than any blade could carve. Thousands of witches had been slaughtered over the centuries, their lives reduced to nothing more than sustenance for our enemies.
The so-called "peace" we'd enjoyed for the past decade was little more than a ceasefire, fragile and temporary. Witches like Freya and I—royalty born with raw power that could rival an army—were rare. Most witches were closer to humans, their magic too weak to defend themselves against Vampires. They didn't stand a chance if the truce shattered.
But this plan? This absurd, suicidal plan? It wasn't the answer.
"I've spent centuries killing Vampires, Freya," I said, my voice low and cold, "Cutting them down like weeds, hunting them in their own lairs. And now you want me to marry one? The King of them all?"
Freya's expression didn't waver. "You won't just be marrying him, You'll be using this opportunity to kill him."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I stared at her, trying to process what she'd just said. "You're joking."
"I'm not," Freya said firmly. "Think about it. This marriage gives you direct access to the most powerful Vampire in existence. No one else would get this close without being torn apart. You'll gather intelligence, find his weaknesses, and kill him when the time is right. This isn't just about peace—it's about survival. This might be our only chance to show them what we can do, we need to let them know that we're not as powerless as the think."
I clenched my fists. My nails bit into my palms as I imagined the Vampire King. The stories painted him as a creature of nightmares—pale as death, cold as winter's breath, with eyes like pools of darkness that swallowed you whole. His canines, they said, were so long they scraped his jaw when he smiled, and his voice could break even the strongest minds.
I'd faced hundreds of Vampires in my time as an assassin. I'd seen their strength, their speed, their cruelty. And yet none of them had ever come close to matching the terror his name inspired. The rumors were everywhere, I even heard that no woman dared to marry him because the previous ones he married all ended up dead the next day because he drank every bit of their blood, that man was a monster, and that was the one I had to marry?
"You're asking me to go to him, pretend to love him, and somehow survive long enough to stab him in the heart?" I laughed again, sharp and bitter. "Do you hear yourself? This plan is ridiculous."
Freya stepped closer, her tone soft but unrelenting. "You're the only one who can do this, Sera. You're the best assassin we have. No one else could pull this off. And you don't have to pretend to love him, try to gain his trust, and strike when he lets his guard down."
I laughed again, the sound hollow. "And what if I fail? What if I'm caught? What if this whole charade falls apart before I even get close to him?"
"Then we'll have no choice but to fight," Freya said, her gaze steady. "But if there's even a chance this plan could work, we have to take it."
I shook my head, my mind racing. Freya wasn't just asking me to risk my life—she was asking me to betray every instinct I had, to step into the heart of the enemy's domain and trust that I wouldn't be devoured.
But deep down, I knew she wouldn't be asking this of me if she didn't truly believe it was necessary. Freya wasn't just my sister—she was my queen. Her word was law.
"If I do this," I said finally, my voice like steel, "I'm doing it my way. No orders, no interference. If I see an opportunity to end this nightmare, I'm taking it. Do you understand me? And if I come back alive, this would be my last mission."
Freya nodded. "I understand, it's a deal Sera."
I turned away, my heart pounding. The thought of standing before the Vampire King, of pretending to be his bride, sent an unfamiliar chill down my spine.
But I wasn't about to let fear dictate my actions. I'd spent the last three centuries as a weapon, killing vampires and exacting vengeance for my people. This would be no different. It shouldn't be that difficult right?
"Fine," i said, my voice cold and unyielding. "But if this plan fails, I'm taking as many down with me as I can."
Freya's lips pressed into a thin line. "I wouldn't expect anything less."