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She Took My Place I Cut His Clan Novel Cover

She Took My Place I Cut His Clan

Lord Lucien believes his blood-mate, Octavia, has finally been broken by his neglect. After he hands her hard-won peace treaty to his new favorite, Celeste, he further insults Octavia by giving away her invitation to the Crimson Feast. While he indulges Celeste's whims and claims his actions are for the clan's survival, Octavia silently observes his betrayal. Lucien expects her continued submission, unaware that she has already manipulated him into signing the papers to dissolve their union. As he flaunts his infidelity, Octavia has already severed her ties, leaving him and his clan behind forever.
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Chapter 2

For five hundred years, my personal vault had been open to Lucien.

The rarest vintages.

Blood of ancient dragons, tears of fallen angels, the essence of long-dead sorcerers.

He took it all. He used it to supply the clan, or to buy lavish gifts for his new pet.

For me? Not a single drop.

Whenever I questioned him, he responded with cold silence.

Sometimes for months.

My last dozen messages through the bond had, as expected, gone unanswered.

Enough.

I teleported directly into the depths of the Valerius vault.

Inside the ancient underground palace, my millennia-old collection rested in crystal containers.

This wasn't just a storeroom; it was a source of my family's power.

The very walls were carved with the protective runes of my ancestors.

I placed my hand on the Valerius family crest etched into the central altar.

"By blood and soul, I revoke all access."

The rune flared with silver fire, then went dark. Lucien's access to my vault was gone. Completely.

Knowing him, lost in the revelry of the Feast, he wouldn't notice until tomorrow, or the day after.

Not until he needed something from my collection to impress some dignitary.

And sure enough, the call didn't come until late the next night.

The bond exploded with his fury.

"Octavia!" Lucien's voice was more frantic than usual, but still thick with arrogance. "I need a vial of 'Morning Star's Dew' for the Prince of Venice. Why is my access denied? This isn't a game, Octavia. Open it. Now!"

"I sealed it," I replied, my voice devoid of emotion.

"Have you lost your mind?" he shrieked. "Is this because I gave the Elder Blood to Celeste? What game are you playing now?"

"It's my vault, Lucien," I said, my tone like ice. "Not the clan's public pantry."

"We are blood-mates!" he roared. "What's yours is mine! This was for clan diplomacy. Don't be so childish."

"You never asked."

"Octavia, stop this," he said, taking a deep breath, trying to force a "gentle" tone. "I admit, I've neglected you. I will make it up to you after the Feast. Now, I am ordering you to remove the seal. You have ten minutes."

"Or what?"

"Or I will use my authority as Lord and have you punished for defying your mate!" His patience snapped. "Don't think I won't do it!"

I laughed.

"Go ask Celeste," I said, my voice flat. "She has ten vials of Elder Blood now. That should be enough for you to play with for a while."

I cut the connection, letting my phone screen glow hot from the barrage of his angry blood-curses before I turned it off.

Next, I walked to the deepest part of the castle—the Ancestral Sanctum.

This was the heart of the entire estate.

The Heartstone at its center powered all the castle's magical defenses and its very life force.

I pressed my palm against the cold Heartstone and began chanting the slumber spell in the old tongue of my family.

"In the name of Valerius, I, Octavia, retract the gift of my bloodline. Let this place sleep, until the blood calls it forth once more."

As the last syllable fell, a deep tremor ran through the ground beneath me.

The silver veins of energy flowing along the walls receded like a tide.

One by one, the ever-burning candles in the sanctum went out.

The warm air turned frigid and sharp.

I could feel it in my bones. The living, magical pulse of the castle had just... stopped.

It wasn't a home anymore. It was a tomb. A massive, cold, stone shell.

With that done, I took the papers I had prepared and went to the Council. The ancient building was shrouded in perpetual twilight.

"Lady Octavia," one of the three ancient vampires on the council said, his gaze heavy. "The dissolution of a blood-bond is no small matter. We must be certain the affection between you is truly broken."

I presented the magical projections—the photos of Lucien and Celeste, the records of him raiding my vault, and evidence of his years of cold neglect.

"The evidence is compelling," an elder nodded. "But according to the High Code, we must still confirm Lord Lucien's own intent."

"He is in Venice."

"Then we will use the soul-link," the head elder said grimly.

I hesitated.

A soul-link was the deepest, most unguarded connection between blood-mates.

It was a gamble. Like slicing my own soul open for the world to see.

But seeing their unyielding expressions, I knew it was the only way.

I closed my eyes and activated the soul-link with Lucien.

Instantly, the Venetian night and the sounds of a lavish party flooded my senses.

Lucien was at the gala, Celeste clinging to his arm as they laughed with other guests.

He felt the link activate and his thoughts came through, cold and sharp.

'Octavia, what are you stirring up with the Council now? Sealing the vault wasn't enough? You're trying to get my attention this way? It's pathetic.'

'The Council requires confirmation of our feelings to rule on my petition to dissolve the bond,' I sent back calmly.

'Feelings?' A sneer echoed in my mind. He deliberately shielded his surface thoughts, projecting an air of magnanimous frustration for the Elders to "overhear." 'Octavia, our union was for the good of the clan. You need to be more mature. Don't let petty jealousy cloud your judgment.'

The Elders exchanged a look, seeming to hesitate.

I didn't argue.

Instead, deep within the soul-link, I projected a single, crystal-clear image at him: the crested offer from the Cain Conglomerate and the sight of my back as I walked away from Evernight Industries forever.

His mask shattered.

The voice that came through wasn't for the Elders anymore.

It was the raw, possessive roar from the depths of his soul.

'You dare! Your talent, your research—you—belong to me! To my clan! You think you can just run away? You aren't going anywhere without my permission! When I get back, I will teach you the price of betraying me!'

The wave of undiluted, violent ownership washed over the sanctum. The three Elders all closed their eyes, as if physically struck by the raw psychic force.

"That is enough," the head elder said, opening his eyes. His voice was tired but firm. "The soul does not lie. Lord Lucien's true intent is clear. Lady Octavia, we will begin the dissolution process."

"How long will it take?"

"One month. The severing of a blood-bond requires a full lunar cycle to unravel the ancient magic. One month from now, the contract between you will be broken. All rights and obligations will cease to exist."

The sky was moonless when I left the Council chambers, but I had never felt so light.

One month. And I would be free.

I dissolved into shadow and slipped through the main gates of my castle—only to find the great hall filled with the sound of laughter.

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