I was at the Blood Registry office to reissue my Blood Covenant Certificate with Lord Ethan when the registrar looked up at me and said,

“Your Blood Covenant Certificate is forged.”

“There is no record of your bond in the vampire consort system.”

I froze.

“That’s impossible,” I whispered. “I registered my union with Lord Ethan five years ago. Please check again.”

The clerk searched once more.

“Lord Ethan’s record is here,” he said calmly.

“His lawful consort is Ella.”

Ella?

The name fell like a blade.

Before he said it, I still hoped it was a clerical mistake.

But Ella… was his childhood companion.

In that moment, everything made sense.

In five years, he had never marked me.

He had publicly acknowledged me as his Blood Queen, letting the entire Coven believe I stood beside him by right.

He had given me titles, a throne at his side, and a crown to wear in front of the world.

Titles can be announced. Only the Registry makes it law.

The certificate he gave me had been nothing but a beautiful lie.

The five years I believed were happiness—

were nothing more than a carefully forged illusion.

An illusion crafted to keep me obedient, grateful, and blind.

If none of it was ever truly mine,

if even the title of “Blood Queen” was only a performance,

then leaving should be easy.

I returned to the manor shrouded in night, the forged Blood Covenant Certificate still clutched in my trembling hands.

A Blood Covenant Certificate is the official decree granted to every vampire couple who completes the Crimson Bond Rite. It was the document that proved I was his wife in the eyes of our world.

Without it, I was nothing.

I forced down the chill rising in my chest, but before I could push open the doors, I heard Ethan’s voice drifting from the study, low and deliberate, speaking with his adjutant.

“My Lord, it has been five years. Will you not complete the formal registration with Lady Vivienne?”

My hand froze on the handle. Even my breath ceased.

After a brief pause, Ethan’s voice answered, calm and controlled.

“Not yet. Ella carries only a trace of vampire blood from generations ago. In our world, that means she has no protection, no name, no power.”

The adjutant hesitated.

“But Lady Vivienne has no official entry in the Blood Registry. If she ever learns the truth, she could leave at any time.”

There was a moment of silence before Ethan spoke again, firm and unyielding.

“Ella bore me a daughter. I am obligated to protect them. As for Vivienne, she loves me too deeply to walk away. She severed ties with her Coven to be with me. She has nowhere else to go.”

The truth split open in that instant, and something inside me tore with it.

Years ago, my father had vehemently opposed my union with Ethan, who had not yet inherited the title of Lord. As a daughter of the Royal Court, I was not meant to wed beneath my rank.

Yet I chose love over bloodline and severed my ties to my birth Coven to follow him into the territory of the Nightfall Dominion. What I had believed to be devotion had now become the very chain that bound me.

The shock hit me like a physical blow, and the world went dark.

When I regained consciousness, Ethan was kneeling before me, gripping my hands with visible concern.

“Why weren’t you careful? Are you hurt?”

He cupped my face.

He brushed my hair back.

For five years, I had lived inside the illusion he built for me, never once questioning its foundation.

I clutched his hand, still unwilling to believe that the man who once whispered eternal vows into my hair could have deceived me. Perhaps it truly was a clerical error in the Blood Registry. Perhaps he did not know.

Clinging to the last fragile thread of hope, I spoke softly.

“Ethan, I seem to have misplaced my Blood Covenant Certificate. Should we go and re-register our bond?”

A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before composure returned. He turned slightly away from my gaze and dismissed it as a trivial matter that the adjutant could handle, urging me to rest instead.

I closed my eyes and nodded slowly, though my heart was sinking deeper with each breath.

Just as he seemed about to say more, his phone rang. I glanced at the screen and saw the name—Ella.

Almost instinctively, he released my hands and answered with warmth and urgency.

“Don’t worry. I’m on my way.”

At the same moment, the Saint Nocturne Orphanage, operated under my former Coven’s patronage, called to inquire whether I still intended to proceed with Mia’s adoption, as another vampire couple had expressed interest.

Holding myself together by sheer force of will, I drove there.

From a distance, I saw Ethan standing at the entrance. Before I could approach, a slender figure rushed forward and threw herself into his arms.

“Ethan, you’re finally here. Please help Mia. I can’t let her be taken away. I don’t want her calling someone else mother and father.”

I stood frozen, watching the woman he gathered so tenderly into his embrace.

Ella.

Ethan’s voice was steady and resolute as he assured Ella that no one would take their daughter away from them.

They stood far too close, and when he bent his head to comfort her, the tenderness in his expression felt effortless, as though they had been destined to stand side by side.

Within moments, Ethan guided Ella up the marble staircase to the second floor of Saint Nocturne Orphanage. Only then did I step out of my car and follow, my heels echoing against the cold stone steps.

Near the director’s office at the end of the corridor, several attendants of the Nightfall Dominion had gathered. They spoke in hushed tones, yet every word reached me with merciless clarity.

One of them remarked that the child must be the girl Lord Ethan intended to bring back to the estate, marveling at how strikingly she resembled him, calling it an extraordinary twist of fate.

Another insisted with quiet certainty that the girl was the Lord’s biological daughter, merely presented publicly as an orphan so that, once the adoption was complete, she could return to his household without scandal and be raised openly as his heir. Someone else asked who the mother was, and without hesitation dismissed the possibility that it could be me.

Then came the more vicious whispers.

They claimed my bloodline was not pure enough, that years ago, in a desperate attempt to be worthy of a Lord of the Dominion, I had submitted myself to arcane fertility rites in the sealed chambers of the Royal Court—ninety-nine attempts in total—each one a failure. They said I could never bear a child strong enough to carry a true pureblood legacy.

Others murmured agreement, suggesting that this was precisely why the Lord had been forced to secure an heir by other means, because a Royal daughter with compromised blood could never guarantee the future of the Nightfall Covenant.

And then someone added, almost wistfully, that although Ella carried only the faintest trace of vampiric essence through a distant ancestor, she was the one the Lord truly cherished; that they had known each other since youth; that standing together, they looked like something ordained by fate.

Their words pierced like silver blades, cutting again and again into the same wound.

For five years, I had not conceived. Ethan had always reassured me gently, saying that vampire conception was rare even among bonded mates; that eternity together mattered more than bloodline; that children were unnecessary so long as we shared the endless night.

Now I understood. He had already chosen another path. He had already planned to bring Ella’s child into his household.

The pain in my chest was so sharp I had to brace myself against the wall to remain upright.

The office door opened. Ethan emerged with Mia in his arms and Ella at his side, their fingers entwined.

When his gaze met mine, a flash of unmistakable panic flickered in his eyes.

Ella greeted me with a bright, almost cheerful smile.

Ethan immediately released her hand and hurried toward me, asking why I was there and explaining—too quickly—that Ella was merely the orphanage’s nutrition consultant, responsible for designing the children’s dietary plans, and that he had only come to discuss Mia’s adoption.

He gently extended the child toward me, his voice deliberately calm as he introduced her as Mia, describing her as the sweetest girl in the entire orphanage.

I nodded and brushed my fingers across her soft cheek, remarking evenly that she resembled him so strongly that, without his explanation, I might have mistaken her for his own daughter.

The child’s scent carried a distinct blend of Ethan’s and Ella’s essence, unmistakable and intertwined, impossible to ignore.

Ethan seemed poised to offer further clarification, but Mia suddenly began to cry.

Ella was already at his side. She gathered the child into her arms with practiced ease, and Mia nestled against her shoulder, murmuring a soft, instinctive “Mom.”

In that instant, Ethan’s complexion drained of color. I could sense the sharp spike in his tension, the subtle shift in his aura.

He rushed to explain that Ella had worked at the orphanage for a long time, that the children often called her mother out of affection, and that once the adoption was finalized, he would gradually correct Mia’s form of address.

I watched him scramble for words and felt a hollow ache spread through me.

Was he afraid of hurting me, or was he afraid of the truth unraveling?

If he truly loved me, why had he concealed the absence of our Blood Covenant registration and left me, his publicly proclaimed Blood Queen, standing on such fragile ground? Why would he bring a child unrelated to me into his Covenant, knowing that every whisper, every rumor, every quiet humiliation would ultimately fall upon my shoulders?

“Don’t worry. I’m not misunderstanding anything.”

My voice was calm when I told Ethan to continue with the adoption proceedings and that I would wait in the car.

Relief visibly washed over him, and he even allowed himself a lighter smile as he told me to wait obediently and promised he would return shortly.

I turned toward the black town car parked beneath the night sky. As I walked, I passed attendants from my former Coven and servants of the Nightfall Dominion. They did not bother to lower their voices. Their glances lingered on me with something dangerously close to pity.

Someone murmured that I was truly pathetic, that I had no idea what was happening around me. Another remarked that the Lord visited the orphanage almost daily to accompany Ella, and that rumors claimed they had already secured a legitimate Blood Covenant registration and completed the Crimson Bond Rite. Meanwhile, I—the publicly acknowledged Blood Queen—appeared to be nothing more than an inconvenient afterthought.

I did not slow my steps. My fingers trembled as I sent a message to my father, whom I had not contacted in years, telling him simply that I wished to come home.

Not long after I returned to the estate, his call came through.

Five years had passed since I last saw him. The once stern and unyielding face of the Royal Court patriarch was now etched with concern. His first question was whether Ethan had mistreated me. My throat tightened, and despite my resolve, tears slipped free as I admitted that I missed him.

The memory of our last argument resurfaced vividly. Five years ago, he had shouted for me to leave the Court and declared that he would consider himself fatherless rather than watch me throw away my lineage. Now that same man bristled at the thought that I might have been wronged.

He sighed heavily and told me that no matter what had happened, the Royal Court would always be my home. He would send someone for me the next day.

After the call ended, I did not sleep. Guilt and regret tangled inside me, regret for severing my blood ties and shame for mistaking defiance for love.

The following evening, when I descended the grand staircase, I found Ethan and Ella seated at the long dining table with Mia between them.

The table was set with freshly harvested blood crystals and goblets filled with warmed crimson elixir. The dark liquid shimmered faintly in crystal glass, and the air carried the metallic sweetness of blood blended with spiced herbs. They sat close together, their silhouettes nearly touching, a portrait of domestic harmony. I stood at the top of the stairs and felt like an intruder disrupting a scene that had already decided its roles.

Ethan rose immediately and began explaining that Mia had only just moved into the estate and was still adjusting, and that Ella was merely staying temporarily to ease the transition.

Mia looked at me warily before declaring that she needed both her father and mother beside her every night. She reached for Ethan’s hand and then for Ella’s, pressing them together as though sealing a truth.

Ella offered me an apologetic smile and said gently that children often required time to grow accustomed to new environments.

Ethan’s complexion paled slightly. His lips parted as if to contradict her, but no words followed.

I had known, in theory, what their arrangement was. Yet seeing the three of them framed together still twisted something raw inside me.

I steadied myself and replied evenly that Mia indeed needed familiar comfort in an unfamiliar home and encouraged them to continue their meal.

I took my seat at the table.

Ella leaned forward with practiced attentiveness and placed a crystal goblet before me. She said she had prepared it personally and added my favorite night-bloom herb, mentioning that Ethan had told her of my preference and insisting that I drink every drop.

I lifted the glass.

The scent reached me instantly, and the warmth drained from my chest.

This was not night-bloom herb. The sharp undercurrent belonged to silver-moon extract, It wasn’t my favorite herb.

It was something that could make my blood turn against me.

I set the goblet down with deliberate care and asked whether she was unaware that silver-moon extract could cause severe reactions in those whose bloodline fusion rites had failed.

Tears pooled in Ella’s eyes almost instantly. She insisted that if I disliked it, I need only say so instead of falsely accusing her.

Ethan frowned and reproached me, saying Ella had risen early to prepare the elixir and would never harm me, and that I should not create needless drama.

As I watched him instinctively position himself at her side, I realized something with devastating clarity.

In this manor, I was not the queen.

I was the outsider.

I had thought I was his chosen queen.

I was merely the placeholder.