"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.

The next afternoon, an apprentice from the corner coffee shop knocked on my door.

He was a kind human boy with eyes as clear as a mountain spring.

"Ma'am, you looked very pale yesterday. This latte is on the house."

He shyly held out a steaming cup of coffee, its rich aroma dispelling some of the musty smell in the room.

In this world, the only one to show me any kindness was a complete stranger, a human.

Just as I was about to gratefully accept the coffee, Isabella appeared.

She was dressed in a stylish, form-fitting leather outfit, a cruel sneer on her lips.

"Sister, hiding in this little rat hole. You've been hard to find."

She strode into the room without a second thought and shoved the slender boy hard.

The scalding latte overturned, splashing across my cold ankles and raising an angry red welt.

"Oops, my hand slipped," Isabella giggled, covering her mouth without a hint of apology. "But you really should stay away from human trash, sister."

The boy glared at her angrily. "Why did you do that?"

"Get lost if you don't want to die." Isabella narrowed her eyes, her pupils turning scarlet as she unleashed her vampiric aura.

The boy's face turned deathly pale, and he stumbled backward.

"Oh, by the way, I have some good news for you," Isabella said slowly as she shut the door. "That foolish official who dared to help you with the dissolution? Prince Damien stripped him of his title and exiled him to the forsaken lands."

"Look at you. So pathetic. Anyone who gets involved with you is ruined."

"The whole clan knows you're an ungrateful traitor now."

Hearing this, I felt my entire world crumble.

Even the one person willing to help me had suffered because of me.

I was a curse upon everyone.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, using all the strength I had.

"Because I hate you!"

The mask of benevolence on Isabella's face finally shattered, and she let out a shrill, piercing laugh.

"You're going to turn to ash anyway, so why not die somewhere far away? Why do you have to stay here and be an eyesore?"

"Do you think Damien believes you? From the very beginning, he's seen you as nothing but a burden!"

This was the real her.

This was the perfect Isabella that everyone adored.

My voice was calm as I spoke.

"Isabella, I can honestly say I have never done a single thing to harm you."

"Where does all this hatred in your heart come from?"

"Because you, a useless thing, were born with a pureblood title and the position of the Prince's mate!" She loomed over me, her eyes filled with the venomous fire of jealousy.

"All of that should belong to someone strong, like me!"

"And I know better than anyone what's really wrong with that broken body of yours."

"From the day I moved in, I've been lacing your blood packs with vervain. Drop by drop, slowly rotting your insides."

"And that ambush by the hunters? I was the one who handed them the map of your patrol route."

I trembled with rage, wishing I could raise my hand and slap her, but the moment I tried, she pushed me to the ground.

Of course. How could this dying, withered body possibly stand against a vampire at the peak of her power?

She slowly crouched down. "What? Are you angry? Do you feel wronged?"

"Too bad there's nothing you, a failure, can do about it!"

"You don't even have the strength to kill me!"

She pulled a sharpened wooden stake from her sleeve and viciously stabbed it into my shoulder.

The splinters of wood sent waves of pain through my bloodstream, the pain making me curl into a ball.

"Watching you weaken day by day over the years has brought me so much joy."

"Well, once you're gone, I'll be the one and only Princess of the Kindred."

The intense pain nearly made me pass out.

Isabella, having finally vented her frustrations, straightened her wrinkled leather clothes and left, visibly pleased with herself.

She was completely unaware that the phone in the pocket of the jacket I was clutching to my body was in recording mode.

The red recording light blinked silently.

It had captured every single word of her confession.

I struggled to get up from the floor, my clothes soaked with the cold sweat of my agony.

Looking at the encrypted audio file on the screen, I let out a wretched laugh.

Finally, I could make everyone see Isabella for who she truly was.

In the final day of my life, it was time for the truth to come out.

At the very moment Isabella attacked me, Damien, in his office, felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his Blood Core.

He shot to his feet, knocking his chair over.

A sense of foreboding, dark as a storm cloud, enveloped him, making it hard to breathe.

"Seraphina…" he murmured, cold sweat beading on his forehead.