From His Shield to His Nightmare

The next morning, my spare communication stone vibrated.

It was Cedric.

“Go to Viktor’s Soul Forge,” he commanded, his voice devoid of emotion. “Be there in an hour. Elsie needs a new token. You will design it.”

“I refuse.”

“This is not a request, Alaina. Don’t make me have my blood thralls ‘invite’ you again.”

He cut the link.

An hour later, I stood in the underground forge of an abandoned monastery.

Cedric and Elsie were already there.

“Viktor,” Cedric said to the forge master, an ancient vampire renowned for crafting soul-bound artifacts. “This is Alaina. Our clan’s best guardian and foremost expert on ancient magical items. I need her to create a one-of-a-kind Blood Chalice for Elsie.”

"Ah..." Viktor's ancient eyes lit up. "A guardian's sacred blood, woven into a vampire's soul-bond. A rare and... potent vintage. I would be honored."

He led us to a black velvet-lined workbench laden with rare materials—shadow crystals, dragon’s blood resin, and an obsidian stone freshly pulled from a hellhound’s heart.

Cedric came to my side. His voice was a low whisper, meant only for me. “I want you to forge the most perfect chalice for her. To the same specifications as my own. The one you tailored to my soul a hundred years ago.”

My breath hitched.

“I know you remember every resonant frequency,” he continued, his voice cold. “The seven runes on the wall that absorb lunar energy, the thirteen ancient sigils that amplify blood magic, and the base, quenched in your sacred blood, that instantly resonates with my soul. Replicate all of it. For her.”

I understood.

He wanted me to dissect our past. To take the very soul of our bond, and gift-wrap it for another woman.

This was a hundred times crueler than purifying my familiar.

“Alaina?” Elsie came over, her voice sweet and innocent. “Can you help me? I’ve always wanted a chalice engraved with mine and Cedric’s initials. Isn’t that the most romantic token of eternity?”

I looked at her innocent smile, at Cedric’s unyielding gaze.

Slowly, I broke into a gentle smile.

“Of course, my future mistress.”

I picked up the enchanted quill, my hand as steady as a rock.

I drew the elegant curves of the chalice, the perfect runic structure, every secret detail that was once ours alone.

My hand drew. My heart counted down the seconds until I was free. Every stroke was a gravestone for our past.

Not only that, I even added several more complex ancient runes to the original design, runes that would enhance the soul resonance by thirty percent.

A secret I had recently discovered and never told him.

“Magnificent!” Viktor exclaimed, looking at the blueprint. “No, this is more than a work of art! Alaina, you are a genius! This is even more perfect than the Lord’s current chalice!”

Cedric’s expression became complicated.

He had wanted to see me suffer, but instead, I was so “dedicated” that I had surpassed my past work.

An uncontrollable flicker of unease crossed his face.

“How long?” Cedric asked, his voice a little dry.

“Three weeks,” Viktor replied. “If Lady Alaina is willing to personally supervise the forging process.”

Supervise it. Watch another woman hold the ‘eternal token’ made from my past with him, and drink his blood from it.

"Of course," I said, my voice smooth as glass. I even volunteered. "It is my duty to ensure the happiness of my lord and future mistress. I will personally oversee every step. It will be flawless."

Everyone stared at me, including Cedric. His eyes were filled with shock and confusion, completely unable to comprehend my reaction.

I gave them a flawless curtsy, then turned and calmly walked away.

No screams. No tears. Just a dead calm that sent a chill down his spine.

Back at my hideout, an invitation sealed with blood was at my door.

“You are cordially invited to the ‘Eternal Vow’ ceremony of Lord Cedric and Princess Elsie.”

I picked it up and smiled.

The stage was set. It was time for the actors to prepare.

I opened the secure line to my father.

“Father.”

“Is it time?”

I looked at the piercing names on the invitation, my voice cold as ice.

“It’s time. The night of the ceremony is the night we leave.”