Betrayed by her Blood. Claimed by the Night.

LAVINIA QUISPE POV: The Hunt Begins

“You’re shaking,” Zack murmured, his breath warm and insidious against my ear. “Try not to bleed on the floor, Lady. It’s expensive marble. You may be our wife, but you are not yet beyond punishment.”

The word was a razor wire—a silent, cruel promise that pierced through the ceremony’s haze. I stopped breathing, my entire body locking up in a spasm of white-hot terror and rage. Punishment. That was my true role.

He released my back and strode quickly toward the exit used by the staff, a streak of arrogant, impatient energy.

"Are you alright, Lavinia?" Zilo asked, his warm, strong hand settling on my bare shoulder. The heat was comforting, a desperate anchor in the sudden, cold storm.

“Fine,” I forced out, my voice thin and brittle.

Klaus, still beside me, slowly lifted his hand, dabbed a droplet of my blood from the corner of his lips, and sucked his fingertip into his mouth. His dark eyes fixed on mine with an unsettling intensity. "You taste of noble blood, but sweeter," he murmured.

My face flushed hot, not with embarrassment, but with a paralyzing sense of objectification. It was rare Klaus spoke beyond his duties, but when he did, he always managed to reduce me to a commodity.

"He's not wrong," Zilo added with a quiet, gentle chuckle.

Zilo and Klaus were solid, unshakeable presences. It was the third member of the triad who made me question everything.

“He’ll come around,” Zilo said quietly, watching the doorway where Zack disappeared.

I gave a weak, unconvincing smile. Zilo was lying to comfort us both. Zack was the only one being truly honest about this bond, and I knew his resentment would not change with the Blood Moon.

The days leading to the Rite of Ascension—the second part of the Blood Union—passed in a blur of escalating mental terror. The healed Mark wounds were now faint crescent-moon scars, but they throbbed with a sensation that was rapidly becoming less tingle and more invasion.

I felt them. All three of them.

It wasn't a sweet, romantic longing; it was a horrifying loss of control. I felt Zilo’s calm focus when he was reviewing status reports. I felt Klaus’s cold, demanding discipline during his training. And worse, I felt Zack's sharp, impatient spike of hostility whenever he thought about the Rite.

This new, parasitic attachment terrified me more than my father’s old suffocating control. I had to sneak around to be with the boys as a child; now, they were inside my head.

The Rite of Ascension itself—the "Hunt"—was the only path to a semblance of freedom. If I awakened my latent vampire gifts, I would earn the minimal authority of the Covenant Lady. Fail, and the terror of Zack’s whispered punishment would be reality.

Most Fledglings claimed premonitions of their power, but I had felt nothing. No flicker of telepathy, no hint of speed. My power, if it came, would be a complete stranger.

When the night of the Blood Moon finally came, I followed the attending nobles out onto the desolate hillside. A fierce, nervous energy seized me—a mix of hysteria and solemn reverence. The strange, unrequited pull toward the Princes that had plagued me since the Mark was about to be resolved.

My father, Lord Aron Quispe, stood waiting, rigid in his deepest ceremonial robes. His face was a mask of pride and crushing expectation. I looked past him. No Princes.

"Father," I said, bowing my head slightly, "Where are Zilo, Klaus, and Zack?"

Lord Quispe did not return the greeting. His eyes scanned the throng before locking onto me, his voice clipped and dry. "They are already in position, Lavinia. The Hunt is about to begin. They will be watching."

My heart hammered. Not waiting in a clearing. Out there. In the dark, framed woods. Watching.

"The rules are simple," Father continued, his voice booming slightly over the anxious silence. "The Blood Moon will soon be at its peak. When the light touches the Sanguine Circle below, you will enter and begin your Rite of Ascension. Your consorts will follow, and the Hunt will commence. They cannot Mark you again until you awaken your power."

He paused, and the weight of his expectation pressed down like an invisible force.

"Succeed, and the final bond is forged. Fail—" His expression hardened into something cold and terrifying, reflecting the same dark judgment I had seen in Zack's eyes. "—and they will hunt you until dawn. They are permitted to retrieve you by any means necessary. Your life will be forfeit to their claim. Do you understand your charge, Lavinia?"

Forfeit. My training, my life, my freedom—all hinged on a power I didn't even know I possessed. It was not just a matter of 'being returned for training' anymore. It was life or death, freedom or enslavement.

I looked down the slope to the Sanguine Circle—the patch of dark earth waiting for the moon's light. It felt less like a step off a cliff and more like leaping into a predator's mouth.

"Yes, Father," I said, the word a promise that felt less like compliance and more like a desperate, internal vow to survive.