Escaping From His Love

"Bowing to you feels almost as bad as dying, Kieran," I said.

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, forcing a composed look.

My heart was still pounding, not just from the near-death experience, but because he had saved me again, damn it. This whole hero-saves-damsel act just made me feel more humiliated.

Kieran tugged at his tie, annoyance flashing across his face.

"Your card depleted five years of the family's liquid assets. Had I not intervened, the elders would have already marked you for death."

"That's my payment for services rendered," I said, walking to the floor-to-ceiling window to watch the traffic below. "After five years serving a bastard like you, that's what I'm worth."

"Bastard?" Kieran narrowed his eyes, teleporting in front of me. He trapped me between him and the glass. "For five years, I gave you immense status, everything you could have ever wanted. And just because I took care of your life-saver, you're acting this hysterical?"

"Took care of?" I let out a laugh that bordered on tears. "You put her in my room, draped your cloak over her, and even got angry at me over a drop of her blood. Kieran, don't try to sell me on this 'benefactor' story. The way you look at her, it's like you found a treasure you thought was lost forever."

Kieran fell silent.

He didn't deny it.

The air around us grew suddenly still. His silence stung more than any words could have.

"Where will you sleep?" he suddenly changed the subject. "The master bedroom is off-limits this time…"

"The guest room," I cut him off. "If there's no guest room, I'll sleep on the sofa. Or in the dungeon, whichever suits you."

"Don't be difficult. Seraphina is weak. She needs the blood pool in the master bedroom to recover. It's the most energetically potent spot on the entire estate," Kieran's voice was matter-of-fact as he laid out the arrangements. "You'll sleep in the guest room."

I scoffed.

If there was a place for her to stay, why did she need to snatch my Moon Tower?

I had always thought Kieran's logic was strictly cold and pragmatic.

But when it came to someone he cherished, he lost all reason, wanting only to give her the best of everything.

"Fine," I conceded, not arguing further.

The next evening, the estate hosted a small "welcome back" dinner.

Officially, it was to celebrate Seraphina's recovery. In reality, it was Kieran's maneuver to get his New York inner circle to accept her.

I had no intention of attending, but Kieran threatened to throw away all the alchemical materials I'd purchased if I didn't.

Considering some of those materials had been delivered to the estate by default, I relented.

I descended the stairs in a simple black evening gown.

Jazz music flowed through the hall.

Seraphina sat at the center of the sofa, wearing the white silk gown Kieran had originally custom-made for me.

The dress was a little long on her, but as she gathered the hem, she looked almost fragilely beautiful.

Several vampire nobles surrounded her, showering her with praise.

"Lord Kieran is so thoughtful towards you."

Ignoring the chatter, I headed to the bar, wanting a glass of blood.

Suddenly, a peculiar scent wafted to me.

It was vanilla, iron, and a certain intoxicating sweetness.

The Saint Blood.

It was a blood type so rare, whispered to exist in only one in a million souls.

A century ago, Kieran risked everything to save her. He’d turned her, binding them with half his essence, and even used forbidden magic to guarantee she got their family's last Saint Blood Grass.

From that moment on, Seraphina's blood became a treasure, a source of deadly allure for vampires and a wellspring of incredible healing.

No wonder Kieran was so captivated by her.

It wasn't just gratitude for saving his life; she was also a prime source of "food" and "medicine."

I turned, and there was Kieran, behind the bar, shaking a cocktail shaker himself.

He was mixing a "Crimson Velvet."

It was an incredibly complex cocktail, requiring precise temperature and ratio control.

In the past, I had begged him countless times, and he had only made it once for me, on our anniversary.

But now, he poured the liquid into a stemmed glass and walked directly toward me.

I instinctively reached out to take it.

But Kieran didn't even glance at me. He walked past me toward Seraphina on the sofa.

"Try it, specially made for you," his voice was so gentle it could drip.

My hand froze in mid-air, feeling utterly foolish.

Seraphina took the glass, took a shy sip, then cast a triumphant glance my way.

There was no trace of timidity in her eyes now, only the smugness of a victor.

In the center of the hall, the crowd began to stir for a game of "Eternal Vow." It was an ancient vampire game where enchanted cards posed questions. You had to tell the truth, or be consumed by the flames of the vow.

Kieran was ushered to the center.

Seraphina drew a card and read the question aloud: "If a silver sword were to stab at you right now, and you could only save one person, who would it be? Your blood-bound mate Aurora, or... me?"

The entire room fell silent.

This was a no-win situation.

Everyone knew that while Kieran and I weren't officially married, we had a binding blood pact.

Kieran sat in his leather chair, fingers lightly tapping the armrest.

His gaze flickered between Seraphina and me.

I held my breath.

Even with a one-in-a-million chance, I hoped he would lie, just to preserve my dignity.

Even a lie would have been better.

Three seconds later, Kieran spoke.

"Seraphina."

Since it was the truth, the magic flames did not punish him. Instead, due to his honesty, the flames bloomed in the air, forming the shape of a red rose.

"Because she has no way to protect herself," he added, as if explaining it to me.

But in that moment, his explanation didn't matter.

I felt as if my heart had been brutally crushed by an icy hand.

My face burned with humiliation.

Watching Seraphina melt into Kieran's arms, I couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

I turned and fled to the terrace.

I couldn't cry here.

Absolutely not.