Chapter 1
The wind arrived before the whispers. Cold, sharp, and wrong.
It slipped through the high tower windows, curling around Eris's bare arms like a ghost brushing bone. She couldn’t breathe.
Her hands pressed into the silken coverlet, knuckles bloodless, heart already racing.
The candle beside her guttered, flame bowing toward some invisible presence.
Then came the voices. Whisper-thin. Ancient.
Crawling behind her ear like breath from a forgotten god.
She stiffened as the world narrowed around her, breath catching in her throat.
Her spine arched. The glass slipped from her hand and shattered, wine blooming like blood.
Her mouth opened, but the voice that came wasn’t hers.
“The lake remembers the blood. The forest mourns the bones. A queen must fall for a world to rise.”
The words echoed through the marble hush, wrong and ancient, like a voice pulled from a grave. Her vision tunnelled. And then—
“Lady Eris!” Artina burst through the door, her skirt swishing as she crossed the room in three strides and caught Eris just before she slipped off the bed’s edge. “Breathe, princess. Come back. Come back to me.”
Eris shuddered violently. Her eyes fluttered as the trance broke. The room snapped back into shape. The wind was gone. Her heart thundered.
Artina steadied her. “That was stronger than the last. You said—”
“I don’t want to know what I said,” Eris interrupted, breathless. She pulled away, pressing her palms to her eyes. “I thought I had more time. Thought I was controlling it.”
But control was a myth, and hope was a fool’s gamble.
Artina didn’t flinch. She hadn’t served Eris long, but she already knew the signs.
“They’re worsening, aren’t they?”
Eris exhaled sharply. “They’re changing.”
She hated how her hands still trembled.
Artina offered a cloth. “Should I call the doctor?”
“No.” Eris took the cloth but didn’t use it. “Stephan arrives today. He should be here any minute.”
Understanding passed between them.
“You don’t want him to know,” Artina said gently.
Eris nodded, jaw tight. “He has enough to carry already. If he finds out, he’ll worry, and he’ll put everything else aside just to watch over me.”
“He always has.”
“I know.” Her voice softened. “If it weren’t for Stephan.
.. I would’ve been completely alone.” She paused, drawing in a slow breath.
“He’s the only one who ever truly saw me.
Even when I couldn’t explain what was happening.
He stood between me and the noble children who called me cursed.
Took his father’s fury more than once, just so I wouldn’t suffer the consequences of my. .. rebellions.”
Artina smoothed the blanket at the edge of the bed. “And now?”
“Now he’s buried in border skirmishes and council decrees. I won’t be the reason he gets pulled from them.”
“You think he’d drop everything for you?”
“I know he would,” she said softly. “That’s what scares me.”
A thoughtful silence passed between them. Then Artina murmured, “It’s because he’s always been in love with you.”
Eris flushed and turned her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s not.” Then, with a breathy laugh and the faintest doubt, “He probably just sees me as the royal mischief he’s stuck cleaning up after.”
Artina smirked, reaching to smooth a strand of hair from Eris’s brow.
“You can lie to yourself, Your Highness, but even the walls know Prince Stephan is hopelessly smitten.” She began gathering Eris’s auburn curls into her hands with practiced fingers.
“A marriage between the two of you wouldn’t just be perfect.
It would be ideal. You’re both Firstblood vampires.
Both Dragovs. Children of the twin kings of Goznoth.
The strongest magic flows in your veins.
” She eased a section between her fingers, gently now.
“Your fathers, King Yori and King Raphael, married their own cousins to keep the bloodline potent and the throne unified. You and Stephan? You are the clearest path to fortifying the crown.”
Then she tugged at a knot a little too sharply.
“Ouch!” Eris winced, glaring playfully at her.
Artina grinned, unrepentant.
Eris stood, walking slowly to the window. Her fingertips traced the cool glass. Beyond the towers, dusk was blooming, and somewhere out there, the royal car might already be winding its way through the palace gates.
“He’s been gone so long... to places I’ll never see, because they never let me leave this place,” she whispered. “Maybe he’s changed. Maybe he’s met someone. Someone... normal.”
Artina tilted her head. “And if he hasn’t?”
Eris turned, cheeks flushed, her smile small and crooked.
“Will you stop already? Stephan and I are just... friends. That’s all.” She laughed lightly, but not entirely convincing. “I’m definitely not clinging to a marriage promise from an eight-year-old boy while we were both knee-deep in mud.”
And then, as if summoned by memory, the door burst open.
Stephan Dragov stepped into the room like he owned the air.
Towering and broad-shouldered, his uniform fit like armor stitched in silk.
Dusk kissed the sharp line of his jaw and the tousled fall of shoulder-length dark hair.
His obsidian eyes, cold to most, only ever softened when they found her.
His long black coat swept behind him, the Dragov crest catching the last of the sun like a flare of gold.
Lord Marshal Cazar followed, stiff and starched, the King’s High Military Adjutant, every step echoing with officialdom.
“Your Highness,” Cazar intoned, voice clipped. “His Majesty requests your presence in the throne hall. He says—”
“I don’t care,” Stephan said flatly, not even slowing. “I’m seeing Princess Eris. My father will wait.”
Eris turned, and the moment she saw him, her breath vanished. She didn’t think. She just ran.
“Stephan!”
“Eris!”
Before she could second-guess it, she leapt toward him. Stephan caught her without hesitation, hands firm beneath her thighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck, just like they used to when they were young enough to pretend they weren’t royalty, just two children on a dare.
But they weren’t children anymore.
He was all heat and muscle beneath his uniform, breath warm against her neck, his hold rougher than she remembered.
She felt every inch of him. Broad chest, strong arms, the solid weight of him pressed against her.
His scent—sandalwood, rain, something darker—wrapped around her like a memory she hadn’t let go.
They froze there, suspended in the kind of silence that said far too much. His closeness burned. And it was too much.
After a beat too long, Eris let herself slide down, her feet landing softly. She smoothed her skirt, tucking a curl behind her ear as a flush crept up her neck. Her gaze dropped.
“I—sorry. That was... impetuous. As usual,” she said with a crooked laugh. “If any of our relatives had seen that, they’d have dropped dead from the shock.”
From the corner, Artina smiled complicitly, then slipped out, closing the door gently behind her. Privacy, at last.
Stephan stood still, as if still catching up to her presence. His hands had lingered too long, his breath uneven. Then, low and unguarded: “Let them. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
Silence bloomed again, heavier this time. Her breath caught, but not from surprise. Their eyes met, and for one suspended heartbeat, the world narrowed to just this room, just the space between them, so charged it felt like glass drawn tight between two fingers.
Her heart thundered. She couldn’t breathe. So she stepped back, smiling a little too brightly.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” she said, her voice light but edged with something raw. “It feels... impossible. How long do I have you?”
Stephan’s voice dropped. “Just a few minutes. Half an hour if I’m lucky.”
The light in her eyes dimmed. “That’s barely anything.”
“I know.” He exhaled. “We’re en route to Kaltafiri. My father didn’t want me to stop. Said there was no time for sentiment.”
“But you stopped anyway?”
“I told him I wouldn’t cross the border without seeing you. Even if it was just to say hello.”
Eris folded her arms, frowning. “Uncle Raphael is a tyrant. Honestly, that man never gives either of us a break.”
Stephan’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing with sudden suspicion.
“Has he done anything to you while I’ve been away?”
She felt it instantly—the shift in him. And yes, Raphael had punished her in the only ways he knew: silence for her defiance, isolation before official visits to hide her trances, and endless, needling lectures. But Stephan didn’t need to know. If he did... he’d lose it.
Eris shook her head lightly.
“No. He’s been too busy pressing you with expectations.” She sighed. “I don’t know how you stand him. He’s been suffocating you with duty and discipline since we were children.”
Stephan dragged a hand through his hair.
“Who says I do?” He exhaled again. “But there’s too much at stake. For our family, the kingdom. I can’t just ignore him.” Then, with a teasing smile: “Besides, you’ve always been enough trouble for both of us. Someone has to be the responsible one.”
Eris’s mouth dropped in mock outrage. “Excuse me? If I hadn’t pulled you into my trouble, you’d have lived the dullest life imaginable. You should be thanking me.”
Stephan stepped closer, eyes gleaming. “Oh, I am grateful, Your Highness,” he said. “Have I ever once complained about being your babysitter?”
The word landed deliberately. Eris gasped, clutching her chest.