I spent the entire night fighting the excruciating pain of my Bloodline Depletion.

At dawn, the roar of a sports car engine echoed from downstairs.

My parents and Isabella had returned.

Even from outside, their angry accusations reached me.

"Seraphina, you still have the nerve to come back here?"

The door was thrown open violently. The fury in my father Richard's eyes looked as if it could devour me whole.

"You ruined Isabella's promotion party! She cried herself sick begging you to stop!"

"And you don't feel the slightest bit of guilt?"

"Apologize to Isabella, now!"

I closed my eyes, a fresh wave of pain washing over me. It's okay. Less than seventy hours left.

Once, he had treated me with that same warm, protective instinct.

Back then, when I struggled to control my bloodlust, my father would patiently console me. "It's alright, Seraphina. Everyone moves at their own pace."

He even scoured the underground black markets himself, searching for the sweetest, purest blood sources for me, soothing my hunger-wracked body time and time again.

But everything changed after Isabella arrived.

She could hunt independently in her first year after being turned, quickly becoming one of the Kindred's elite and Damien's most capable aide.

And I, despite my pureblood title, could barely shadow-walk, and my combat skills were the worst in the entire clan.

She replaced me, becoming the brilliant and capable daughter in my father's eyes. And because of the nature of her turning-vow, my father never suspected the venomous heart beneath her gentle exterior.

Stranger still, ever since Isabella's arrival, I had grown progressively weaker for reasons I couldn't explain.

I was constantly nauseous and dizzy, and even the simplest wounds were incredibly slow to heal.

The clan's alchemists said it was a problem with my innate constitution, that I couldn't bear the weight of the Kindred's bloodline.

But no matter how hard I tried, my physical condition only worsened.

Disappointment began to appear in my father's eyes.

"Seraphina, look at Isabella, and then look at yourself. She's so exceptional right after being turned, how can you be so mediocre?"

"As Prince Damien's Vow-mate, how can you manage his household in this sickly state? How can you hold your own among the elite?"

"If it weren't for that damned pureblood alliance, do you think you could have ever hoped to marry the Prince?"

Eventually, the look in his eyes turned from disappointment to shame.

It was as if looking at me for even a moment would sully his sight. Isabella was his proud masterpiece.

I forced my heavy eyelids open and looked at Isabella, standing behind my parents.

"Sister, let's make up, okay? Just like when we were little," her voice was sickeningly sweet, her eyes welling with tears, projecting an image of someone who had been wronged but was still magnanimous.

This had always been her specialty.

"Do you remember that perfume you made for me?" Isabella took a step forward. "Tomorrow is my official first day in my new position. Could you blend another bottle of 'Midnight Bloom' for me? As a celebration of my new beginning."

A flicker of relief crossed my mother Eleanor's eyes, and she quickly urged me,

"Isn't this the only thing you're good at? Seraphina, Isabella is offering you an olive branch. You're getting off easy, so hurry up and do it!"

I froze. That bottle of "Midnight Bloom" threw me back a century.

Back then, not long after Isabella had been turned by my father, I had excitedly blended a perfume for her, carefully selecting the most precious midnight bloom petals.

Just because she said she loved the scent of Midnight Bloom, I endured countless burns on my fingers from its essence.

While the essence of Midnight Bloom was nowhere near as potent as vervain, for a vampire with a weak bloodline like me, even the fumes during the distillation process made me feel faint.

But I gritted my teeth and persisted, finally creating the perfect perfume.

The result was that after Isabella wore it, she broke out in terrifying red blotches that same night.

The alchemist determined that an ingredient in the Midnight Bloom was incompatible with the source of Isabella's blood.

The first thing she did after waking up was to throw herself into Damien's arms, crying, "Your Highness, the perfume was a labor of love from my sister. She said it would be good for my newly turned bloodline… Please don't blame her, it's all my fault for being too greedy!"

I stood helplessly outside the door, trapped by Damien's murderous gaze.

"I had no idea there was an incompatible ingredient. The formula was perfectly fine…"

Damien didn't listen to a word I said. He took my daylight ring and locked me in a sunroom for three whole days.

It was a living nightmare.

No blood, no water, not even basic shelter.

I curled up in a corner of the glass room, the glaring sun scorching my skin, listening to the sounds of laughter from outside as they celebrated Isabella's "recovery."

When I was finally let out, my skin was covered in festering sores, and I could barely stand.

"Have you forgotten?" I looked coldly at Isabella's duplicitous face. "Midnight Bloom is toxic to you."

The mention of this made the atmosphere in the room instantly awkward.

Just then, Damien pushed the door open.

He heard our conversation and his steps faltered for a moment.

In truth, during those three months in the sunroom, even when I was tortured to the point of losing consciousness, I could still sense through our bond that he had come to see me secretly in the dead of night.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Now, he was completely on Isabella's side.

"Toxic?" Isabella let out a soft laugh, a barely perceptible nervousness in her voice. "Sister Seraphina, that was ages ago."

She deliberately moved closer to me. "I'm much stronger now. That minuscule amount of toxin is nothing to me. A century of experience has made my bloodline unbreakable."

As she spoke, she held out her hand, as if to prove something. "See? I'm not afraid of Midnight Bloom at all."

Her nails dug into my skin, the pressure increasing.

Just as the pain forced me to wrench my arm away, she "unexpectedly" fell to the ground.

And in the moment she fell, I saw it clearly: she emptied a small vial, hidden in her sleeve, onto her own arm.

"Ah—!" She hit the floor hard, letting out a bloodcurdling scream.

Almost instantly, angry red welts began to appear on her pale arm.

"Isabella!" Eleanor shrieked, rushing to her side. "My God, it's concentrated vervain! She's badly burned!"

The burns spread at a visible rate, crawling up her arm to her neck as her skin started to blister.

It certainly looked like a severe reaction to vervain.

Richard whirled on me and roared, "Seraphina, what did you do to her?"

I hadn't done anything but pull my hand away.

But I knew it was useless to defend myself.

Isabella leaned against Eleanor, whimpering in pain.

"Mother, it hurts so much… like I'm on fire… Sister Seraphina, she didn't mean to…"

Even in her "agony," she was pleading my case, which only enraged everyone else further.

Seeing Isabella's burned skin, Richard turned and roared at me,

"Seraphina! You've gone too far!"

"I… I didn't…" My explanation sounded feeble and weak.

"You didn't what?" Damien strode over, fury blazing in his eyes. "Again! You've hurt her again!"

He lifted Isabella into his arms with painstaking care, his movements unnaturally gentle.

"I told you, I'm really not afraid of Midnight Bloom anymore…" Isabella rested against Damien's solid chest, her breath shallow. "Maybe… my sister had something else on her hands…"

She pleaded for me with her words, but her gaze shot over Damien's shoulder, flashing me a triumphant, vicious sneer.

Only I could see it.

"What was on your hands?" Damien glared at me. "No one touched her but you!"

Watching this perfectly staged scene, a profound sense of despair washed over me.

She had planned everything. Including the concentrated vervain liquid hidden in her sleeve.

"Seraphina!" Damien roared, lunging at me and seizing my throat. "I should have known how venomous your heart is!"

His hand tightened. I struggled to breathe, my vision blurring.

But at the very moment he applied force, a searing pain, as if my soul were being burned, suddenly erupted.

It wasn't coming from me.

It was coming from him.

The blood vow lashed out, punishing him for harming his Vow-mate.

Damien let out a muffled grunt, his face turning pale. His tall frame swayed, and he was forced to release his grip.

I fell against the wall, the dull thud of my back hitting the surface echoing in the room, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

"Damien!" Isabella cried out, her face pale with fright. "What's wrong? Why do you look so terrible?"

He shook his head, fighting back the stabbing pain that came from deep within his bloodline, and looked at me again.

The fury in his eyes was enough to damn me to an abyss.

"Get out! I don't want to see you right now."

He knew, too, that this bizarre backlash came from me.

I slumped to the floor, with nothing more to say.

I would no longer feel the sting of their mistrust.

My heart, along with my fading bloodline, was now completely numb.

Eleanor caught a glimpse of the dark, toxic blood spilling from my lips, and a flicker of pity crossed her eyes.

For a split second, I thought I saw the mother from centuries ago, the one who would gently stroke my cheek.

But the next second, just because Isabella's cries grew more pathetic, she hastily averted her gaze and turned to comfort the daughter who "truly needed her care."

"My darling, how are you feeling?"

I coldly wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand and pushed myself up from the cold marble floor.

In the corner of the hall stood a worn-out black suitcase, stuffed with the few old clothes I owned.

I had packed it days ago.

For the past two days, I had been preparing to leave.

They watched my actions with surprise, which was quickly followed by biting sarcasm.

"What, think you've grown wings? Learned to run away from home?

The clan's protection is for your own good, Seraphina. Why can't you see that we're trying to help?

If you step out of this building today, you will never be a member of this family again!"

My father watched me with a blank expression.

"You think running away will solve anything?" Eleanor sneered. "Seraphina, for centuries you've been like this, always trying to escape when things get difficult."

"Just as your father said, how could our pure bloodline produce such a failure."

Damien carefully settled Isabella onto the velvet sofa, then turned around, his face dark.

His eyes held not a trace of warmth, only cold disgust. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from the Kindred's territory."

"Seraphina!" he suddenly raised his voice. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"Walk out that door, and you are no longer my Vow-mate, much less the Prince's consort."

Centuries of despair had already corroded my soul. My blood core, on the verge of stopping, felt not a single ripple.

I no longer feared losing this so-called home, because this family had never truly given me a sense of belonging.

"Suits me just fine," I said, dragging the suitcase toward the door. "I was never worthy in the first place."

I dragged my suitcase toward the door without a backward glance.

Damien felt a wave of dizziness, as if something had just struck his Blood Core.

The formidable Prince actually staggered, catching himself on a cold marble pillar to keep from falling.

When he had personally uttered that cruel declaration of banishment, a fierce backlash had scorched him like the midday sun, inch by inch.

But his intense pride and anger had blinded his reason.

He told himself this pain was Seraphina's fault.

It was her weakness and incompetence that were causing him this torment.

But he still didn't understand what was happening to him and could only unleash his power in a fit of rage, shattering the nearby floor-to-ceiling window.

The sound of shattering glass erupted behind me.

Shards of glass scattered across the floor, glittering in the moonlight.

Damien stood before the shattered window on the second floor, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Seraphina!" His voice trembled. "You get back here!"

I stopped and looked back one last time at this place I had once thought was my home.

The moonlight fell on the manor's walls, making it look exceptionally cold and desolate.

"Whoever regrets this decision will be condemned to the eternal torment of a sundered Blood Core."

The moment I pushed open the heavy wooden door, a biting night wind rushed into my clothes.

It carried the scent of freedom and the premonition of my demise.

Damien stood by the window, watching Seraphina leave. He heard her final words and shuddered.

He knew she was weak. Running out into the night, she might be targeted by vampire hunters.

He wanted to tell her that his words of banishment were spoken in anger, that he hadn't meant for her to leave.

He instinctively wanted to chase after her, but Isabella turned and gave him a sweet smile.

"Your Highness, isn't it for the best? When she has nowhere else to go in this cruel world, she'll naturally come crawling back to you."

"By then, my dear sister will finally understand that without your noble protection, she is nothing but dirt beneath your feet."

Hearing this, Damien felt a strange wave of irritation.

He forced himself to halt, but no one noticed that his tightly clenched fists were trembling from extreme restraint.

Sharp nails dug deep into his hard palm. Crimson drops of Noble blood dripped from between his pale fingers, hitting the cold floor.

I dragged my heavy suitcase and found a dilapidated motel on the edge of the city center.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of bleach and cheap tobacco.

The wallpaper was peeling, and the carpet was covered in stains.

But for me, an exile, this was the only sanctuary I could find.

At midnight, the searing pain of Bloodline Depletion ripped me from my nightmares.

The agony was like thousands of poison-laced steel needles stabbing relentlessly into my bone marrow, especially at the scar over my heart, a wound I had carved myself.

Every breath was a torment.

I curled up in agony under the thin sheets, centuries of memories flooding my mind.

It was shortly after Isabella had been adopted. She began to take an "interest" in my daily diet.

Every time I drank the blood supplements she personally delivered, I would feel a tearing, burning sensation in my veins.

The pain caused me to faint frequently during combat training and even cough up black blood.

Everyone thought I was just naturally allergic to a component in the synthetic blood plasma.

Only now did I understand that it was high-purity vervain, diluted with water.

"Seraphina is too fragile. She can't even absorb the most basic energy," the alchemist had sighed.

And Isabella was always the first to rush over. "Sister, don't scare me! I'll go get you some painkillers."

Then there was a routine border patrol where I was ambushed by vampire hunters in a meticulously planned attack.

My patrol route had been leaked.

I was cornered in a dead end, hit by several ultraviolet bullets, and left to die in a sewer for an entire night.

When Damien's personal guard found me, I was in a deep coma, my body covered in charred, rotting flesh.

Isabella's eyes were filled with tears. "It's all my fault I didn't protect sister better. I should have found her sooner."

She became the hero, and I became the burden that needed saving.

The worst part was the so-called healing blood.

Whenever I was injured and weak, Isabella was always the most eager to take on the task of caring for me.

She would personally mix the blood for me and gently feed it to me.

I thought it was a sign of sisterly affection.

But I only grew weaker.

Thinking back now, those blood packs must have been laced with a fatal poison.

It had been corroding my bloodline, bit by bit.

Everyone, including myself, thought I was born unfit to be Kindred.

It turned out I had been slowly poisoned for centuries by the "family" I trusted most.

Meanwhile, in the CEO's office on the top floor of the Nightfall Group building.

Damien sat behind a large ebony desk, but he couldn't read a single word.

The agony transmitted through their blood vow was driving him to madness.

"Damn it!" he shot up, sweeping the documents off his desk.

He had an intense urge to find Seraphina immediately, to make sure she was safe.

But his pride wouldn't allow it.

He needed a reason.

When the message came through our bond, the excruciating pain it carried almost made me lose consciousness.

It was from Damien, his tone as cold as frost.

"Seraphina, come back and apologize to Isabella at once. Don't think running away will solve anything."

I didn't reply. I was too weak to even muster the strength to respond.

I just wondered if he felt even a sliver of concern.

But that didn't matter anymore. My time was running out. I had maybe one day left.