I married the most powerful vampire in existence — Lucien Blackthorne.

And I was just a human.

Four years ago, my parents gave their lives to save his during an assassination attempt.

So he married me. As compensation.

Lucien paid for my education, gave me access to resources most humans could only dream of, and treated me with impeccable courtesy.

But he never once mentioned turning me.

Then one day, his childhood sweetheart — a female vampire, freshly divorced — came looking for him.

It was the first time I ever saw Lucien smile.

That was the moment I understood. Lucien had never seen me as his wife.

There had always been someone else.

So I handed him the divorce papers.

He barely hesitated before signing his name.

"Elena, why would you do this? You know you can't survive without me. You'll regret it."

He tossed me a check across the desk, looking down at me, and told me to go home and think it over.

But this time, I wasn't going back.

I left him carrying his child, determined to find myself again — done begging for his love.

And yet, after I vanished, he came chasing after me, sobbing, pleading with me not to go.

Elena's POV

From the day I walked into the Blackthorne mansion in my wedding dress, I knew one thing.

I didn't belong here.

The servants bowed with their eyes lowered, never meeting my gaze. The nights held no warmth, no light — only endless darkness.

And I was the only one who needed the sun. Fragile, lost, clinging to my vampire husband.

Four years of marriage, and I had poured everything I had into fitting in — hand-picking Lucien's suits and ties, managing every mundane detail of his life.

And Lucien, to his credit, had never treated me badly. He was gentle. Considerate. Always the perfect gentleman.

"If you want to continue at the medical school, I'll arrange it."

His tone was calm, the same as always.

That day, I stood in the doorway of his study, certain he would refuse.

But he simply glanced up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk — just for a second.

"Your life doesn't have to be defined by this marriage. Whatever you want to do, you're free to do it."

His expression was the same as it had always been — cool, controlled. But I told myself that the way he looked at me meant something. That it was respect born of love.

I could have gone on lying to myself forever, pretending that was enough.

Until three months ago, when she came back.

Seraphina Crowe. Lucien's childhood sweetheart. A pureblood vampire — elegant, aristocratic, and freshly divorced.

I had heard her name whispered among the servants countless times inside the castle. Apparently, if Seraphina hadn't chosen someone else first, she would have been Lucien's fiancée. That was always the arrangement between their families.

On our wedding anniversary, I waited at home with a gift for hours.

Lucien was always punctual. But that night, he was late.

That night was also the first time I laid eyes on the infamous "Miss Crowe."

She wore a red gown, her arm looped through Lucien's with casual ownership. The look she gave me was the kind you'd give a cheap plate of leftovers.

"This is Seraphina Crowe. An old friend. She'll be staying with us for a while."

When Lucien spoke to me, his gaze landed on my face for only one second.

He didn't notice the gift box I'd already hidden under the sofa. He certainly didn't notice how tightly I was clenching my fists, fighting to hide my awkward, disappointed expression.

"Okay."

I had no right to refuse. And honestly, I don't think he was asking.

"Lucien, your taste is still terrible."

Seraphina swept her eyes around the castle, appraising the furniture, before letting her gaze drift — almost carelessly — to me.

I kept my head down, doing my best to ignore the venom and hold myself together. And then —

I heard Lucien laugh.

"Still that sharp tongue? You've been like this since we were kids. No wonder your marriage didn't last."

I looked up, and I saw everything.

His eyes had never been that bright. A faint smile spread from the corners of his eyes to his lips, making him look — for the first time — almost human.

In four years, I had never seen him smile.

I'd thought Lucien simply didn't know how.

Turns out, he just didn't do it around me.

Seraphina caught the flash of shock and pain on my face. She gave Lucien's arm a playful punch and leaned into him, teasing.

"My divorce? That's only because you begged me to come back and help run your business."

"Enough. Stop teasing." He turned to me, his voice dropping into that familiar, measured gentleness. "Elena, it's getting late. You don't need to wait up for me in the sitting room anymore. It's cold out here."

Lucien patted the top of my head — the same as always — and told me to get some rest. Then he turned and walked upstairs with Seraphina.

I watched them go, laughing and talking all the way up, until I heard the study door close behind them. I sat frozen on the sofa.

Night was falling. For vampires, life was just beginning.

And I — the human — had no place in any of it.

Elena's POV

After that, everything happened too fast.

Once Seraphina was back, they were inseparable. Handling affairs together, going in and out of meetings side by side.

Even the job of picking out Lucien's clothes each morning — which had always been mine — fell to her.

"Lucien told me you're a medical student? You must be exhausted from studying every day. Humans have limited stamina — leave these little things to me."

That day, I was turned away at the study door. The tie I'd already chosen was tossed aside by Seraphina.

At home, I saw them everywhere — walking shoulder to shoulder.

Seraphina would lean close. And Lucien didn't pull away.

I told myself it was normal. They were vampires. They had grown up together. Of course they were close. It meant nothing.

But sitting alone in that house, I felt, for the first time in a long while, that old familiar feeling — like I didn't belong.

I thought I'd learned to walk on eggshells well enough. I'd even stopped expecting my husband to truly love me.

But watching Lucien laugh and joke so easily with Seraphina, while all I ever got was silence — "Fine." "Got it." "Whatever you want." — the ache in my chest was impossible to ignore.

The anniversary gift was still hidden in the closet.

The first three years, Lucien had always found my gifts quickly, and he'd wear whatever I gave him the very next day.

But this time, the quartz watch I'd picked out had been sitting so long that the hands had stopped.

Maybe he just forgot. After all, anniversaries were a human thing — he'd never cared about dates like that only humans commemorated.

I kept looking at my gift, over and over. I rewrote the card and threw it away more times than I could count. Every word I wrote felt wrong, and I kept revising, terrified of boring him.

Lucien had always kept me at arm's length. I didn't want to admit it, but I could feel it — his feelings for me were paper-thin. Guilt was the only thing holding us together.

Before Seraphina, I could still lie to myself.

But after seeing what Lucien's happiness actually looked like, I couldn't pretend anymore.

I'd spent years walking on eggshells, and that careful, gentlemanly courtesy of his — it had no place between husband and wife.

Maybe I should never have accepted this arrangement in the first place.

I'd been greedy, and it had cost me everything.

Elena's POV

Seraphina was there at dinner that evening.

She sat beside Lucien — relaxed, elegant, as if that seat had always been hers.

I barely touched my steak before making an excuse to leave. I'd been spending all my time in the medical lab lately. I smelled like disinfectant and had no appetite.

I was done watching the two of them chat like I wasn't there, building a world I could never enter.

But Lucien noticed something was off. He stopped me.

"Elena, you've been emotionally unstable lately."

I froze, then forced myself to sit back down. "Have I?"

He glanced at me, then told the maid to cut my steak into smaller pieces. His voice was as level and cool as ever.

"You've been avoiding me since our anniversary. Haven't you?"

I stared at the sliced meat on my plate, and for a moment, a wave of nausea hit me so hard I couldn't eat.

"If you're upset because I overlooked our anniversary, I apologize."

He watched me with that flawless composure — every word, every gesture, completely beyond reproach.

So he hadn't forgotten the anniversary after all.

He remembered. He just hadn't wanted to spend it with me.

He'd already apologized. What more could I possibly say? What right did I have to be angry?

It hit me then — for four years, I had spent every single day tiptoeing around these questions, over and over.

Since the anniversary, he hadn't slept in the master bedroom. Of course he hadn't found the gift.

The dynamic between us had always been fixed. After my parents died, he was the only family I had left. He was the one who helped me through the grief. I depended on him, and somewhere along the way, I'd fallen in love with him — in the role of his wife.

I was always looking up, reaching out, waiting for him to come to me — to love me, to pay my tuition, to give me a reason to stay.

And every now and then, he'd glance down, offer a scrap of attention or a rare night of closeness, and then withdraw whenever he pleased.

I couldn't even raise my voice at him.

I hesitated, about to speak.

Then Seraphina pulled a face behind his back. She mimicked his stoic expression, dropped her voice to a deadpan: "Lucien, you've been emotionally unstable lately, too."

He let out a low laugh. A real one, tinged with exasperation.

"Cut it out."

In that moment, watching the soft warmth on his face, I went cold all over.

It suddenly felt like the last four years had been a joke.

I had broken myself trying to learn his rules, to fit into his world. And in the end, I still couldn't reach him. I was still on the outside, looking in.

If that was the case, then I might as well leave on my own terms.

I wanted a divorce.

I was done begging him to love me.