Clarence, the Vampire Prince, fell for me the moment he laid eyes on me. And I fell for him just as hard, just as hopelessly.

I accepted his Embrace.

The whole dark world knew he loved me more than life itself.

He branded the rune of our blood bond directly over his heart.

That lasted five centuries. Then I got the video from his new blood doll—a human stripper named Seraphina.

She was sprawled naked in his lap, fresh bite marks dotting her throat.

Using her own blood, she’d painted a crude sigil right beside the sacred rune meant only for me.

And my mate had let her.

“Clarence says my young blood is the only thing that makes him feel alive anymore,” she purred. “He says you’re a dead fish in bed, darling Molly. Time for the new generation to take over.”

I didn't bother to reply. My fingers were steady as I contacted an ancient witch.

“I need a glamour,” I said, my voice even and low. “A perfect human shell. One that will hide everything—my scent, my trail. All of it.”

The taunts from his new pet started two months ago.

Videos of them tangled together, of Clarence’s obsession with her young body… the cruel truth was shoved in my face.

I never let on that I knew. I just quietly prepared, setting a deadline for my departure: seven days.

In an abandoned church outside New York City, the only light came from the moon filtering through stained-glass windows, casting shattered rainbows on the floor.

I pushed a leather satchel heavy with gold toward the hooded witch.

“I need you to remove the Thorne family crest from my skin. And I need you to make me human. Flawlessly,” my voice echoed in the cavernous, empty church.

The witch opened the satchel, the gleam of the coins lighting up her ancient face.

She sifted through the gold with withered fingers, raising an eyebrow. “It seems the noble Prince’s consort wants to run away… Perhaps you’ll need me to cover your tracks, as well?”

“Yes,” I nodded, my fingers digging into the edge of the pew. “My scent, my trail, everything. I want to be certain no vampire can ever find me.”

“The price is half of all you possess,” she said, her cloudy eyes glinting.

Without hesitating, I pushed a second, equally heavy satchel across the floor.

The witch swept the gold into her robes and leaned forward, her voice a dry rasp. “It will be ready in a week. But I must warn you, my lady. Once you become ‘human,’ everything from your past must vanish completely. The Thorne clan has eyes everywhere. A single lingering trace of your vampire scent, and they will find you.”

I stood, the sharp click of my heels on the stone floor echoing through the silence. “I understand.”

I had never been more certain of anything in my life.

Twenty minutes later, I was lying on a cold ceremonial altar.

Amidst the witch’s chanting, the sizzle of the branding iron was deafening as the bat-shaped crest of the Thorne clan on my collarbone slowly vanished.

The pain was excruciating, like silver being dragged across my skin.

But I clenched my jaw and didn’t make a sound.

In a daze, I felt five centuries of memories, of my love for Clarence, being stripped away with the brand.

When I returned to the castle late that night, the servants were gossiping in low voices.

“His Highness fell for that human woman at first sight. He gave her the Embrace himself, made her a Princess of the Coven.”

“I know. And he swore before all the elders that his love for her would be eternal, undying.”

“So romantic. I wish someone loved me like that.”

I stood in the shadows, listening.

Eternal and undying?

I gave up the sun for him. I gave up my dream of being a painter.

He didn’t keep his promise.

The irony was suffocating.

A faint shift in the air signaled his arrival. Clarence appeared at the door.

He smelled of sweet human blood. And on his neck, barely hidden by his collar, was an angry red bite mark.

“Molly, you’re still awake?” He moved toward me, about to wrap me in his usual embrace.

My stomach turned. I put a hand up, stopping him.

Clarence looked confused, then his eyes fell to my collarbone, to the white bandage covering the spot where his family crest used to be.

“Molly,” his voice turned low, dangerous, “what happened to your crest?”

“Just a scratch. Nothing to worry about,” I said, my voice perfectly calm.

Clarence’s hand froze mid-air, suspicion in his eyes.

But I was no longer the naive human painter he’d turned five centuries ago. I had learned to hold a perfect smile through Coven political games, to survive with grace amidst blood and betrayal.

“I have a gift for you,” I said, changing the subject. From a hidden compartment, I retrieved an ornate obsidian box and slowly slid it toward him.

It was heavy. Inside was a crystal orb that held a memory of our first meeting: under a Christmas tree on a snowy night.

It was supposed to be his anniversary gift. But I had already smashed it to pieces.

Clarence took the box, a look of surprise on his face. “What’s the occasion?”

He didn’t open it, instead placing it on the table and reaching out to touch my face.

I took a step back, my smile never wavering. “You truly don’t remember, do you, Clarence? Today is the five-hundredth anniversary of our bonding.”

His expression froze, as if he’d been struck.

I saw the panic and guilt flash in his eyes.

“Gods, Molly, I…” he reached for me. “Coven business has been so demanding lately, I completely…”

“It’s fine,” I said, deftly sidestepping his touch, refusing to smell another woman on his skin. “I understand.”

“No, it’s not,” he insisted, grabbing my hand, his grip tight. “We have to celebrate. Let’s go to the place where I first turned you. You love the blood moon there, don’t you? We can dance under it, just like we used to.”

Used to? The last time we danced was a century ago. Back when he would still kiss my ear and tell me I was his forever.

Now, he couldn’t even remember our anniversary.

But I nodded. “Alright. That sounds lovely.”

To get away clean, I still had to play the part of the devoted, oblivious mate.

At 4 a.m., Clarence was speeding through the night in his vintage Bentley, the classical piece that had been playing on the street when we first met filling the car.

“I really am sorry I forgot,” he said, glancing at me. “You know how much I love you.”

I didn’t answer.

My hand was in the glove compartment, my fingers closing around a silk stocking.

I didn’t need to guess who it belonged to. Seraphina’s scent clung to it.

I put it back, pretending I’d felt nothing.

I had no interest in his meaningless excuses.

When we reached the cliffside overlook, a massive blood moon hung in the sky.

We stood in silence for a long time while Clarence tried to recreate the warmth of the past.

He hugged me from behind, pointing at the moon and whispering romantic nonsense.

Then his phone buzzed, a specific vibration pattern.

“Sorry, my love. Coven emergency. I have to take this.” He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and vanished, reappearing at the far end of the cliff.

I quietly slipped back to the car, where Clarence kept his burner phone.

I found the chat log. The contact was saved as “Kitten Seraphina.”

Kitten Seraphina: I miss you, daddy… Can we try that new position and the new toys you mentioned tonight?

Clarence: Of course. Seems I didn’t quite fill you up last time.

Kitten Seraphina: You didn’t like it? I have other surprises planned. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied.

Clarence: I look forward to your performance.

More messages flooded the screen, filled with filth and details for their next tryst.

They had a date for tonight. The Waldorf Astoria. He’d already booked the room.

When Clarence returned, he was once again the devoted mate.

“For a second, I couldn't feel your presence. It terrified me,” he said, reappearing beside me and taking my hand. “I thought you’d left me.”

My stomach churned.

A powerful wave of nausea washed over me.

“Molly, are you alright?” Clarence asked, his face a mask of concern. “You look pale.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The lewd videos, the stocking reeking of another woman, his hypocritical concern.

It all made me physically sick.

I shoved the car door open and stumbled out, heaving violently into the bushes by the road.

The blood in my stomach came up, as if I was trying to purge the last five hundred years of my life.

“Molly!” Clarence cried, rushing after me. “What’s wrong?”

I knelt on the ground, still retching, tears mixing with the bile streaming from my mouth.

“Darling, you must have drunk some tainted blood.” Clarence gently helped me back into the car, handing me a flask of fresh, crimson liquid. “Let me take you to the blood bank. You can have anything you want.”

I shook my head, trying to look weak and harmless. “No, it’s alright. I think my energy has just been low lately.”

“Then let me throw a party for you, help you relax,” he suggested, ever the thoughtful husband. “Would the Lady of House Thorne do me the honor?”

An idea sparked, sharp and cruel. I smiled. “Of course. Could we have it at the Waldorf Astoria? I’ve always loved the decor there.”

A flicker of panic crossed Clarence’s eyes, but he masked it quickly. “Of course, my love. I’ll have it arranged immediately.”

I knew what he was thinking.

The risk of us both being at the same hotel was too high.

But he couldn’t refuse the small request of his “sick” mate, could he?

Back home, Clarence was exceptionally attentive. He brought me the purest blood, insisted I stay in bed, and checked on me every hour.

The perfect husband.

But I saw the text he sent Seraphina on his phone:

“Change of plans. Meet me in the private blood cellar beneath the hotel tomorrow. It’s more discreet. More… stimulating. Imagine what we can do amongst those expensive vintages…”

Kitten Seraphina: “Sounds amazing! I’ll wear that red silk dress you like. With nothing underneath.”

The sound of the shower turning off in the bathroom brought me back. I quickly put the phone down.

Clarence emerged with a towel knotted at his waist, water droplets tracing paths down his muscular chest. Five hundred years ago, the sight would have made my heart race. Now, it just filled me with disgust.

“Feeling any better?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed to feel my forehead.

I nodded silently.

Just then, Clarence noticed the obsidian gift box on my nightstand.

He smiled softly. “I still haven’t seen the gift you prepared for me…”

He reached for it, but I stopped him.

“I want you to open it in a week. Think of it as a surprise, okay?”

He looked at me, puzzled. “Why a week?”

I gave him a mysterious smile. “Because by then, you’ll understand its true meaning.”

Clarence shrugged, placing the box in his nightstand drawer. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

The next morning, Clarence was up early, preparing breakfast for me in the dining room.

Fresh blood in a crystal goblet, garnished with my favorite black rose petals.

A perfect breakfast from a perfect husband.

Then, the doorbell rang.

One of Clarence’s men stood outside, holding a refrigerated case.

“Your Highness. The… delivery… you requested,” the man said furtively, avoiding my gaze.

But I could smell it. A rare, vibrant vintage of blood, no doubt a “delicacy” for their little rendezvous.

After the man left, Clarence returned to the table and continued his breakfast as if nothing had happened.

I stirred the blood in my goblet. “Clarence, I want to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

I looked up at him. “How important do you think loyalty is between mates?”

Clarence froze for a split second before raising his goblet. “Of course, it’s important. Loyalty is the foundation of everything.”

“Is it?” I asked, playing the part of a naive wife. “So, you would never betray me?”

Clarence immediately set down his glass and placed a hand over the blood bond rune on his chest.

It was the symbol of our union, a sacred vow for vampire mates.

“I swear on my immortal life,” he said, looking me straight in the eye, his tone solemn and sincere, “I will only be loyal to you, Molly. You are my mate, my queen, the only light in my eternal night.”

His performance was flawless. If I didn’t know the truth, I might have actually been moved to tears.

“And if you did betray me?” I asked, raising my goblet, my gaze turning cold.

Clarence, oblivious, even managed a relaxed smile. “Then may my power turn to dust and my life be forfeit.”

I took a sip of blood, savoring the metallic tang.

“Good, my dear. I’ll remember that.”