We reach the lake, walking arm in arm, and I end up getting lost while staring at the water. Lea is lucky. Her sister’s sacrifice meant her family’s Blood Covenant was sealed. 

Once sealed, it’s considered that the family has already paid enough. The parents give up their firstborn, and in return, they get the certainty that they won’t lose any other children, and a little pouch of coins to feed themselves for a year. A small alms in exchange for losing a child forever.

“Are you listening to me?”

I blink, coming out of my thoughts.

“Sorry.” I smile, embarrassed. “What were you saying?”

“Don’t worry.” That sad smile again. “I’m sure you have a lot on your mind. I was saying that yesterday, during the walk with my mom, Charlie, the baker’s son, stopped to chat with us for a while. He couldn’t stop looking at me, maybe…”

“Maybe…?” Her cheeks turn pink. “Do you like Charlie?”

She tries to ignore me, looking at anything but me. Still, I don’t give up and start poking her in the side, forcing her to look at me between laughs.

“Don't be silly, Charlie is too much...”

“Too what?”

“Too right.”

“Not right?” I raise an eyebrow. “You're the most correct person I know.”

She unlinks her arm and starts walking backward, spinning slowly as she talks.

“Yes, that’s why I want someone who’s rebellious, adventurous, someone who makes me feel alive. I don’t want something traditional and typical—I want someone who pushes me to do new things.”

“You want to give your parents a heart attack,” I say.

She laughs again, twirling on herself while walking along the rest of the path. We reach the end, the sign that it’s time to turn back and return to the comfort of our homes. I have a different idea for tonight. We retrace our steps and, when we reach the end, I stop in front of Lea and look her straight in the eyes.

“Tonight I’m going home alone,” I announce. “I need a few moments to myself.”

“Elara, that’s not a good idea. It’s getting dark, you can’t go back alone…”

“Lea, please…” I say pleadingly. “I don’t have much time left, soon I won’t have these walks, I won’t have time for myself. Not even to think.”

The rustling of the hem of her dress sounds on the gravel as she comes closer and hugs me tightly. I let her comfort me, inhaling the sweet violet scent of her hair. I feel the tremble in her shoulders, and then I know she’s crying. I try not to let the tears cloud my eyes. We’ve been friends all our lives, and one of us has to say goodbye forever to the other, even if she doesn’t know about my definitive intentions. She won’t receive my letters, because I’m so terrified of my fate that I plan to run from it like a coward.

“There, there…” I stroked her back in a soothing gesture. “Everything will be fine, I’ll write to you and tell you what my new home is like. It’ll be like I’m here.”

The lie tastes like ash.

She pulls away from me, unable to hold back the sob that escapes. I wipe the tears running down her cheeks with my thumbs and give her a small smile.

“I’ll write you so many letters,” she promises. “So many that you’ll get tired of me.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I’ll tell you all about what I discover in my books, I’ll tell you about Charlie and any other who comes around during our walks…”

“I want the wedding details with Charlie,” I tease. “You’re blushing again!”

“You’re an idiot!”

She hugs me again and ends the farewell with a little wave of her hand and an exclamation.

“See you tomorrow!”

As she walks down the path, she turns to look back several times to see me, and I stay in place until her orange waves disappear.

I let out the air I was holding in my chest and collapsed to the ground, where the vegetation is dull and dry. I don’t bother gathering my skirts—how dirty my dress gets no longer matters.

The sky slowly turns a dark blue and the only sounds accompanying me are the breeze, the moving water, and the treetops being shaken. The lake is at one end of the village, in the most uninhabited area. The first occupied house is probably hundreds of meters away. It’s not proper for young ladies to come here, much less stay alone in such a remote and lonely place. My parents would not approve of this.

I kick off my round-toed shoes and then my tights. I feel the earth beneath my feet as I begin to walk toward the shore.

When the water touches my toes, a shiver runs through me that numbs my whole body. I take another step, and then another.

My body doesn’t get used to the cold—the icy December water feels like hundreds of needles stabbing into me. As painful as it is, I won’t stop. I have a goal and I’m not going to abandon it.

My chest protests as my shivering body presses the boning of my corset into me. I keep moving forward, the water covers me past my chest, and my teeth won’t stop chattering. I can’t feel my toes, and it’s hard to move my hands. I keep advancing a little more, struggling to stay on the surface.

Each minute is like a grain falling from an hourglass, marking the countdown.

Little by little, my whole body goes numb, the cold clouds even my mind. Small clouds of breath escape my trembling lips.

There comes a moment when my feet feel so heavy that I stop moving them and remain still, letting my head sink, inch by inch.

Air rushes from me when I dive under. The shock of being fully in this cold water is brutal. The excess calm in it is even unsettling.

I sink slowly, suspended in the water, watching my hair float around me while neither my arms nor legs can make the effort to swim and rise to the surface. The cold stabs into me like ice stakes.

My chest protests. It burns, and I swear hands are pressing against it, compressing it.

I open my mouth involuntarily, searching for air and finding only water. I choke. A spasm shakes me, my vision blurs, and the weight of my body keeps dragging me deeper and deeper.

More spasms run through me, breaking the stillness of the water, and no matter how hard I try to move my arms, they don’t respond.

Even if I want to die, the survival instinct is strong, but I remind myself over and over that this is what I want.

My vision turns treacherous, showing me what looks like a face that vanishes as quickly as I blink.

The edges of my vision go dark, like the borders of a photograph burning.

“You must live, you have to live…”

The words are whispered in the water.

“You have to live, you must live.”

The weight of my eyelids gets heavier, and so does the feeling that something is coming toward me.

“This act of cowardice disappoints me.”

Something in those words makes me seethe.

They pour into me like acid corroding my veins.

A wave of shame overwhelms me.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this to my parents. To my siblings.

The Blood Covenant isn’t sealed—Tucker will have to enter the Blood Auction because of me. I can’t condemn him to that—this is my burden, mine alone.

I try to open my eyes, to fight against the water, but it’s too late.

No matter how hard I try, my body refuses to respond.

“Stupid girl.”

Hysteria makes me open my mouth again, and water gushes into me, filling my lungs and silencing my screams.

Hair crosses my vision, wraps around my neck like a noose.

I look up and all I see is black. I’m far from the surface.

That mysterious face is getting closer, closer, closer...

I lose consciousness momentarily and when I come to, my face is against the shore of the lake, stained with wet dirt.

My dress still floats in the water, and my legs are still numb.

I press my elbows into the earth to drag what’s left of my body out of it.

My hands tremble, and when I glance at my fingers, I see they’re purple.

I roll onto my back, with the sky growing darker and the moon more present.

My breathing isn’t normal—it’s ragged, and my chest makes sounds of agony.

I try to bring my hands up to my mouth to try and warm them.

My legs don’t obey my commands, and my feet are a purplish hue.

The breeze shakes the treetops, and with it, a new whisper reaches me.

“Accept your fate.”

I look in every direction searching for the source of the voice, but only the trees and the lonely path answer me.

The words crash into me with weight, and my shoulders shake as I break into tears.

I’ve been so selfish, such a terrible daughter and sister…

I almost condemned my siblings to my fate and my family to disgrace.

I cover my eyes with my hands, trying to hold back the tears, but they come out with force, unwilling to stop.

I don’t know how long I'll stay sitting there before Tucker appears.

“Elara!” My brother’s steps grow louder and louder. “Elara! What happened?”

The warmth of his arms surrounds me, and instinctively, my hands try to cling to him, seeking comfort.

I bury my face in his chest, soaking his shirt with my hair and wet clothes.

He murmurs something I can’t make out while rocking us both gently.

“There, there, Elara… It’s okay now.”

I feel his fingers tangle in my hair as he strokes it.

His embrace is exactly what I needed—and I didn’t know it until this moment.

Small clouds of breath form in the air with each of my ragged breaths.

His hands massage my feet and ankles, trying to get my circulation back to normal and drive out the sickly color.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

I shake my head, and he doesn’t push.

That’s what I like about him, the bond we have, the mutual agreement not to push each other when the questions are too painful to answer.

We spend a long while on the shores of the lake—me clinging to him, trying to absorb some warmth, and him checking to make sure the circulation in my limbs returns to normal.

“I hope you know you’re going to cause quite a stir when we get home.”

One of his arms goes around my back, the other slides under my knees, and he lifts me from the ground.

“Mom and Dad are going to lose their minds when they see you like this.”

I nod. My parents will definitely make a fuss when they see me like this.

It’s obvious I’m already in trouble for not coming home before dark, and showing up like this isn’t going to make things better.

Tucker doesn’t speak again; he carries me silently along the path until we reach the empty village streets.

The cold still lingers deep in my bones and I don’t know what else to do to warm up.

I sigh in relief when I see our house in the distance, casting an orange light through the windows.

When we reach the door, Tucker kicks it open, and the avalanche of my family’s concern begins.

“What happened?” my father asks, rising from his chair beside the fire.

“Elara!” My mother’s cry cuts through the air. “My girl! What happened? You’re soaked!”

“Bring as many blankets as you can,” Tucker orders as he carries me toward the fire.

I don’t even get to feel the relief of being near the fireplace.

I pass out on the way to it, and the last thing I’m aware of is my head falling backward with a sharp jolt.

As expected, I spent my birthday and the following days in bed with pneumonia that made the air coming out of my chest sound like a horse’s neighs. Four days later, my appearance hasn’t improved much, and I hope this will serve as an excuse so no one buys me tonight.

My thick black hair has been neatly gathered at the nape of my neck with small floral pins. My skin has a lifeless tone, and two small purple grooves rest under my eyes.

“My little girl…” says Mom through tears as she pinches my cheeks to give them some color. “I’m not ready for this moment. None of us are.”

My chest tightens with each word, I blink several times to chase away the urge to cry. My tears will only make this harder.

“Don’t worry, Mom. Maybe I’ll be lucky and no one will find me appetizing enough tonight.”

My mother’s eyes look at me without humor, red and flooded with tears.

“Whether they buy you or not, this is the last night you’ll spend under our roof.” Her hands rest on my shoulders, and she pulls me into her arms. She gently strokes my back. “Stay healthy—not for them, but for yourself, Elara. Write to us, let us know somehow that you’re still alive.”

“I’ll try,” I reply without conviction.

Most of us already know the fate that awaits once we’re bought.

Each vampire is supposed to have a certain number of “feeders” according to their rank. No more, no less, as long as they remain healthy and capable of fulfilling their duty.

They’re not allowed to hurt us, overstep, or hasten our deaths. But those are just words, laws written by their ancestors and ours to guarantee peace.

In practice, many of them overdrink, leave us dry, discard us, and quickly find a replacement, with the cooperation, of course, of corrupt Blood Auctions.

Mom leaves me alone for a few moments, which I use to try to burn into my memory every detail of what has been my bedroom for eighteen years—my place of rest and confessions.

I’m wearing the prettiest and newest dress I have in my closet.

One that squeezes my chest so tightly it’s hard to breathe.

It’s made of green velvet with golden thread embroidery, the neckline is square and reveals the curves of my breasts. I get up from the little stool in front of the vanity and grab the shawl.

I give myself one last look in the mirror and involuntarily pass my fingers along the curve of my neck, as if I already knew I’d never see it intact again. I wrap the shawl over my shoulders, hold it tightly, and leave the room.

I descend the stairs, listening to every creak of the wood, and see all the faces of my family waiting at the bottom.

“You look beautiful,” says Tucker, his eyes shining.

“Elara always looks beautiful.”

Dad takes my hand as I step down the last stair and pulls me into his chest, hugging me so tightly my bones protest.

Still, I say nothing.

I stay there for several breaths, knowing this will be the last time I’ll be in my father’s arms.

It’s painfully hard to pull away.

“Elara?” a child’s voice calls.

My little sister looks up at me from a few heads below. Her huge honey-colored eyes gaze at me, frightened, and I smile to reassure her. I hug her, cradling her face against my chest and stroking her copper curls.

I’m going to miss so much…

I won’t be there to soothe her scraped knees the next time she falls playing, there will be no more candlelit stories, and I won’t be around when she starts smiling because of some boy.

Our parents watch the scene with true anguish, and Tucker joins our embrace, wrapping his arms around us both and shielding us from the world with the breadth of his body.

I inhale the scent of home while holding back tears.

The sound of a bell breaks the silence.

The Blood Auction is open to receive us.

Each chime falls over us like a bucket of cold water.

Mom grabs Angela’s hand, and my father offers me his arm to walk.

Tucker stands to my right and opens the door, letting in a gust of freezing air.

We all seem to hold our breath for a second and then begin to walk.

The street is empty, although dozens of pairs of eyes watch us from their windows.

Every full moon is an event that everyone watches from the safety of their homes, with goosebumps and aching hearts, because every time one of us enters the Blood Auction, it reminds the others of what will one day come to their own homes.

Many other auctions are taking place tonight in hundreds of cursed villages like ours.

We walk in silence, hearing windows close and the meow of a stray cat.

“If you ask me now, I’ll take you out of here,” Tucker whispers.

“We’ll run away from the village, go into the forest, and with the money I’ve saved, we’ll cross the ocean.”

My heart skips a beat, I look around, hoping no one is close enough to have heard his boldness.

“Don’t say nonsense.” I grit my teeth. “Don’t even think of suggesting something like that again. It would be treason.”

He tries to speak, but a single look from me is enough to silence him.

He can’t be serious about this.

Going against the rules and the system is treason.

They’d kill our whole family—or rather, drain them like pigs in the village square.

The world has changed; we’re no longer the cruelest living being. Now they are.

They let us dream of a world where humans ruled everything, and crushed that fantasy with a simple wave of the hand.

“There doesn’t seem to be much of a crowd at this auction,” Mom comments from behind, worried.

Fewer people at the auction means more chances of being bought.

I swallow with difficulty, trying to dissolve the knot in my throat.

The peaked roof of what used to be a church is already visible at the end of the street.

After the vampires’ arrival, everything related to religion was burned and destroyed—except churches.

They found it ironic to use them for auctions.

As if to say: “Look, God, here’s where I buy your beloved children to treat them like animals, to feast on them and break their souls.”

What they don’t know is that their arrival sparked, for many, a deeper need to believe—to cling to a merciful being who watches over us.

The church doors are wide open, and from within, an intense orange light spills out.

We stop walking and look at each other, knowing they can’t follow me any further.

Once again, Mom begins to cry and throws herself into my arms.

“I’ll pray every night for you to be safe, healthy, and strong.”

“Mom…”

“Darling, don’t scare our daughter anymore,” says Dad, wrapping his arms around Mom as she tries to hide in him.

“She’s strong and will fulfill her role. She’ll manage to write to us and bring us words of relief, right?”

I nod.

“Sister, show them how tough the Vosss are.”

“You got it.” I smile.

“Don’t encourage your sister to do anything reckless,” Mom scolds.

“Daughter, you must be submissive—even if they promise not to hurt you beyond… well, you know their word doesn’t mean much. They could still hurt you.”

“I know, Mom,” I say, even though I’m more than willing to be reckless. “I’ll be good.”

“That’s my girl.”

I kneel down, aware that my skirts are getting stained with dirt.

I kiss Angela on the crown of her head and whisper something silly in her ear to make her laugh, then hug Tucker, and finally wrap both my arms around my parents and hold them tightly.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We love you so much, daughter.”

I give them each a loud kiss on the cheek and, clutching my skirts, I head toward the entrance of the old church.

I don’t look back—their sad faces would break me.

I quicken my steps and cross the threshold of the door.

The cold inside steals my breath for a moment.

Despite being inside a church, little remains of its original contents.

It looks nothing like the images in books.

Everything that could have had religious meaning is gone.

Where the baptismal font should be, there’s a pyramid of goblets filled with crimson liquid; the walls bear no saints, only portraits of pale faces.

The Pure, the elite among vampires, the highest authority.

The pews have been replaced by luxurious armchairs, the altar is now just another table, and a few crosses remain in place, turned upside down in mockery.

A woman with an oval face, dressed in a red velvet gown, approaches me when she sees me enter.

“Your Blood Covenant, please.”

I search in the small pouch hanging from my wrist and pull out the book that contains all my data.

The woman opens it and reads with a clear look of boredom.

She observes me briefly from under her lashes, evaluating me.

“Follow me.”

She starts walking down the aisle, and before we reach what was once the altar, we veer toward a small door.

I start hearing my own heartbeat.

The cold is still painful, and I wonder how she shows no signs of discomfort.

She’s human—the blush in her cheeks and her lack of pallor confirm it.

We emerge into a room dimly lit by candles, and other faces stare back at me.

There are several girls and boys, all with wide, fearful eyes.

“Take off your dress and put that on,” says the woman, pointing to a red cloth.

I look around, searching for a screen to change behind.

“There’s no…”

“Modesty and shyness are things you can no longer afford from now on,” she cuts me off. “Get changed quickly, they’re about to arrive.”

I take the red silk garment and, glancing quickly at my companions, I see that it does little to cover our nakedness.

The men’s chests are bare, and they wear a strange piece of clothing from the waist down.

I blush and quickly avert my gaze.

Everyone avoids eye contact, gripped by shame.

I try to undo the laces of my corset.

“One last question,” the woman in the red dress says before disappearing down the hallway. “Is your virtue intact?”

I blink.

“What does my virtue have to do with any of this?”

“They like the taste of virgin blood,” her tone is haughty. “Your virtue will increase your price.”

“Damn pigs…” I mutter.

“The answer is simple: yes or no.”

She arches an eyebrow at me, impatient. I square my shoulders and lift my chin.

“Yes, my virtue is intact.”

She nods as if pleased with my answer and disappears.

Just a few minutes have been enough to classify her as someone I dislike.

With difficulty, I bring my hands to my back and try to undo the dress. It’s hard, but obviously no one is going to offer to help. When I loosen the corset, I allow myself a deep sigh and let it fall to the floor. I slip off the dress and remain in only a thin undergarment.

I hug my body before taking that off as well, leaving me naked. I stare at the wall, pushing aside the shame, and without letting myself lower my gaze, I pull the red silk over my head, which falls softly and clings to my body.