Vampire Husband Chose My Sister, I Left

Cecilia refused to marry Damian Blackwood, Commander of the Northern Night Watch, after he was struck by a vampire hunter's Eclipse Silver. The poison had corroded his spine and left both his legs paralyzed, and she refused point-blank to honor their families' marriage pact. So my parents slipped sedatives into my dinner and loaded my unconscious body onto the night train heading north. By the time I woke, a blood bond mark had been seared into my wrist. The North was a land of endless snowstorms, where vampire hunters and feral vampires took turns besieging the fortress. The Eclipse Silver had locked down Damian's body, rendering his healing almost useless. To save him, I studied the silver bullets the hunters left behind, experimented with dozens of reagents, and slit my wrist again and again to use my blood as a catalyst. Three years later, I finally developed a blood perfume capable of dissolving the silver poison, and I put Damian back on his feet. The night he reclaimed command of his legion and returned to Santvela in triumph, Cecilia burst into the welcome banquet in a black evening gown and threw herself into his arms, sobbing. She claimed their parents had forced her to flee the engagement, that she had spent all three years praying for him in a church. Damian believed her. "Evelyn, the one who was supposed to marry me was always Cecilia. You were just a stand-in to fulfill the blood bond." "I'll dissolve our public marriage. As compensation, you may remain with the Blackwood clan as a secondary bond-holder. " A secondary bond-holder. In vampire law, that was not a wife. It was a dependent registered under a master's name, whose blood and abilities could be called upon at will. I looked down at the glass vial in my hand. One sip would purge the last traces of silver poison from his heart. "All right." I unscrewed the cap right in front of him and poured every drop of the dark red liquid into the drain outside the banquet hall. Chapter 1 Damian assumed I was trying to provoke him. He didn't chase me, and he didn't send anyone to stop me. That night, the Blackwood estate blazed with light. Damian held a welcome banquet for Cecilia, and nearly every official from the Night Council, every representative of the vampire clans, and every notable in the city had turned out. I, meanwhile, was thrown out with my luggage by the butler and banished to the most remote corner of the estate: the old garage. It had been abandoned long ago. There was no heating, and the cracks in the walls reeked of damp mold. The December wind sliced through the broken roller door like thin blades dragging across bare skin. For the past three years, I had been draining a full cup of blood every month to make Damian's medicine. My body was already far weaker than it should have been. My hands and feet were perpetually ice-cold, and the slightest chill would set my heart racing and my vision spinning. I didn't cry. I didn't go begging. I just held tight to the wooden chest in my arms. Inside were my blood perfume formulas, a few sets of tools for crafting scents, and every coin I had saved from mixing medicines for the military doctors and Night Watch soldiers in the North. In those three years, I wasn't just Damian's wife and blood physician. I was also the best blood perfumer in the North. The next evening, just as darkness fell, Cecilia's personal maid Lina kicked the garage door open. "Miss Evelyn, the lady of the house would like you at the main residence." She leaned hard on the word "lady," contempt written all over her face. I secured the chest and followed her through the frost-covered garden. The fireplaces in the main house roared. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, snow filled the sky, but the rooms were warm enough to make you drowsy. Cecilia sat beside Damian, wearing the deep red gown that should have been mine, and around her neck hung the black diamond necklace I had only reclaimed by pawning my mother's last keepsake. She leaned against his shoulder like a white rose kept under glass. "Evelyn, you've worked so hard these past three years." Her eyes glistened as she looked at me, though victory lurked beneath the tears. "I heard the garage is freezing, so I've had two space heaters sent over. We're sisters, after all. I'd never let you go without." Damian sat in a high-backed chair, looking down at me. "Cecilia is delicate. She can't be mistreated. The master bedroom and control of the household will pass to her. You took care of me for three years, and I won't leave you with nowhere to go." He paused, as though announcing a decision generous enough to be grateful for. "Once the marriage is dissolved, I'll register you with the Night Council as a secondary bond-holder. Apart from not attending clan affairs as my wife, your life won't change much." I stared at him. He stood ramrod straight, the legs beneath his black shirt long and powerful. Those legs. I had dissected silver bullets and tested their toxicity over and over in the North, dragged him from the floor back to his bed during every flare-up, and ripped them from death's grip by sheer will. Now he was walking toward another woman on legs I had saved, and expecting me to be grateful he was letting me stay as his dependent. "A secondary bond-holder?" I laughed once, then walked slowly toward Cecilia. Damian assumed I was about to bow my head and accept. The tension in his brow eased slightly. The next second, I raised my hand and slapped Cecilia across the face as hard as I could. The crack echoed through the living room, silencing it completely. Cecilia screamed and fell back into the sofa, blood beading instantly at the corner of her mouth. The scent of it deepened the pupils of every young vampire in the room, but none of them dared move. "Who do you think you are, wearing my necklace, sleeping in my room, and playing the loving sister to my face?" "Evelyn!" Damian shot to his feet. With a vampire's speed, he was in front of me in the blink of an eye. A silver-edged saber slid from his belt, its blade pressing against my throat. It was no ordinary weapon. It was a silver blade issued to the Northern Night Watch for subduing feral vampires. Half an inch more would have been enough to sever a human's carotid artery. His eyes burned with fury. I met the blade without flinching. "That slap was for stealing my things and dirtying my room." I tilted my head, shifting my gaze to Damian's face. "As for you..." I raised my hand and slowly pushed the back of the blade aside with two fingers. "You disgust me. Keep the secondary bond-holder spot for someone who's willing to kneel and take orders." Damian's face went rigid, but the blade never fell. I turned and walked away without looking back. Chapter 2 The saber nicked the side of my neck. A single drop of blood slid down my skin. Damian's breath visibly caught. Blood held an instinctive allure for vampires, and mine had sustained him through three years of poison flare-ups. He knew its scent better than anyone. But he quickly forced down the dark hunger surging in his eyes, leaving nothing but the fury of a man who had been defied. "Evelyn, there's a limit to playing hard to get." He followed me to the door, teeth clenched. "You think anyone in Santvela would dare take in someone who's crossed a pureblood clan?" I stopped walking but did not turn around. "Move." "You—" Damian swung the saber to block my path again. I grabbed the flat of the blade and shoved it aside with everything I had. Metal slammed against the doorframe with a dull clang. Damian froze. He had probably forgotten that there were no maids in the North, and no cozy private clinic. Every day I had split firewood that had frozen solid, hauled iron crates packed with medicinal supplies, and dragged a full-grown vampire off the floor and back into the restraint chair whenever he lost control. My strength was not something I had been born with. I had built it, one day at a time, in wind and snow and blood. I ignored him and walked straight back to the old garage. I hadn't left the estate yet, but it had nothing to do with not being able to leave Damian. I was staying because the Moonfrost I had spent three years cultivating was still in the underground cellar, completing its final round of settling. Moonfrost was a rare medicinal perfume that could calm a vampire's turbulent blood and ease silver poisoning and withdrawal. Once the formula was complete, it would be enough to open a blood perfume clinic that was truly my own in Santvela. The perfume wasn't ready yet. I couldn't leave. Behind me, Cecilia wept with the delicate air of someone deeply wronged. "Damian, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have come back, and I shouldn't have given Evelyn the wrong idea. She must still love you. I can leave..." "You're not going anywhere." Damian pulled her into his arms, but his gaze reached past her and fixed on my retreating back. "Let her go. Without Blackwood protection, she can't even get through the gates of the Night Market. Give it three days. She'll come crawling back." Cold wind swept through the corridor. I walked on, steady as ever. Crawl back to him? Damian thought far too highly of himself. He had once taken a hunter's bullet for me in the North, and that was why I had been willing to stay by his side for three years, willing to repay that debt with my blood and my life. Now he had taken back his trust and his respect with his own hands. So I would take back everything I had given him. Chapter 3 Cecilia assumed that my move to the old garage meant I had given up. She began testing my limits without a shred of restraint. The estate kitchen first cut off my dinner, then stopped delivering clean drinking water altogether. The only things left outside my door each day were cold cuts left over from banquets, spoiled broth, and sometimes even half-drained blood bags. I was human. I had no use for blood, and I refused to touch any of it. I survived on nutrient pills I had formulated myself, slipping out at night to collect filtered water from the greenhouse. When she saw that I still wasn't making a fuss, Cecilia had the space heaters removed and the power to the garage cut. A cold snap hit Santvela without warning, sending nighttime temperatures into the single digits. The old garage was an iron icebox. I piled every piece of clothing I owned over myself and still shivered awake all night. I endured it. Not because I was afraid of her, but because the Moonfrost needed two more days. Then came that afternoon. I had just finished checking the perfume paste in the underground cellar and was heading back toward the garage when I caught a sharp, acrid smell of burning. My stomach dropped. I pushed open the courtyard gate. Several estate servants were grabbing fistfuls of the herbs I had hung on drying racks and tossing them into an iron barrel. The flames leapt high, and charred leaves curled away on the wind. "The lady says these things reek and attract rogue vampires. Since there's no heat in the garage anyway, might as well burn them to keep us warm." Martha, the head housekeeper, stood at the front, grinning with satisfaction. In the fire were Arctic snowmoss, silverleaf, and sunbloom root I had brought back from a hunter encampment in the North. Those herbs were what kept the chronic heart palpitations from years of blood loss at bay. They were the medicine keeping me alive. I had once walked through a blizzard for two days just to find a patch of snowmoss untouched by silver contamination. Now they were turning to ash before my eyes. I stood rooted to the spot, fingernails digging deep into my palms. It hurt. But not a fraction as much as watching three years of work trampled on a whim. Martha saw me return and wasn't the least bit alarmed. She planted her hands on her hips and laughed. "Miss Evelyn, so sorry about this. The lady says the main house fireplaces need more fuel, so we had to scrounge up something to burn. You've always been so kind, I'm sure you wouldn't give us trouble over a few weeds?" I looked at her and nodded slowly. "No trouble at all." Martha's grin widened. The next second, I lunged forward, grabbed her by the hair, and shoved her face toward the burning barrel. Her shriek tore through the quiet of the courtyard. Flames licked the ends of her hair, and the stench of singed strands filled the air. She thrashed wildly, and I flung her to the ground just before her skin touched the fire. The other servants stumbled back in terror. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, wiped the hair oil from my fingertips, then tossed the handkerchief into the fire. "Go tell Cecilia." I looked down at Martha, my voice quiet. "If she likes playing with fire, I'll play along. "Next time, it won't be just a few strands of hair." Chapter 4 The loss of the herbs took a rapid toll on my body. Every midnight, the bone-deep chill left by years of blood loss clawed through me, and my heart raced without warning. I needed replacement herbs as soon as possible. That night, I pulled on a black coat, drew up my hood, and climbed over the estate's back wall. The largest underground market in Santvela was hidden beneath an abandoned subway station. By day it was just a cordoned-off construction zone. After dark, the iron gates opened for anyone bearing a nightwalker's seal. Vampires, hunter middlemen, underground doctors, and agents working for ancient clans all traded there. Drawing on my experience in the North, I quickly found an underground apothecary that asked no questions. I traded my last gold brooch for a box of Silverfrost powder. The substance wouldn't kill a vampire outright, but it would worm its way into the bloodstream and slow their healing. Whenever rain fell or the temperature plunged, the afflicted would feel their bones constricting as though wrapped in fine silver wire, the pain too severe to stand. Cecilia had burned my medicine. I would let her learn what real bone-deep agony felt like. After buying the Silverfrost powder, I didn't leave right away. I rented a battered wooden table in a corner of the market and lit a stick of my own calming blood perfume. A faint scent of cold pine quickly masked the stench of blood and mildew that hung in the underground space. The perfume could ease the headaches that plagued vampires who had suppressed their hunger for too long, and it could help humans recover from the aftereffects of mental compulsion. I sat quietly behind the table, waiting for my first customer. Less than half an hour later, a set of steady footsteps stopped in front of me. I opened my eyes. The man was tall and wore a sharply tailored black overcoat, his face half-concealed behind a silver-gray mask. He showed no sign of the fangs vampires bared when they fed, yet his presence carried the kind of pressure only a high-ranking vampire who had lived for centuries could give off. "You made this perfume?" His voice was low and betrayed no emotion. "I did." "It can quiet blood-noise headaches?" "It can. But it only relieves them. It won't cure the underlying cause." He studied me for a few seconds, then set a black-and-gold token on the table. It was the highest-tier payment chip issued by the Night Council. A single one could buy the entire corridor where my table stood. "Come with me." I didn't reach for it. "I don't sell myself. Only perfumes and consultations." He seemed not to have expected a refusal. Behind the mask, a flicker of interest crossed his eyes. "Lucien Valentine." He leaned slightly forward, bringing his gaze level with mine. "Chief Regent of the Night Council, and the man who needs your perfume the most." I had heard the name, of course. Lucien was one of the oldest vampires in Santvela, responsible for subduing feral vampires and eliminating anyone who violated the secrecy laws. He was said to be ruthless and dangerous. In the past hundred years, no one in the Night Council's interrogation chamber had dared tell him no twice. He nudged the token closer to me. "Become my exclusive blood perfumer. I'll give you a clinic, supplies, and the Night Council's protection. Your formulas will remain yours. I won't touch them." I looked at the token. The Blackwood estate had no room left for me. I would need new equipment to make the Moonfrost again. I needed a patron powerful enough to shield me, but even more, I needed one who wouldn't steal what I had built. "Contract first." Lucien let out a quiet laugh. "Done." I picked up the token. "Deal." Chapter 5 Lucien and I agreed that I would deliver the first batch of calming blood perfume to the Night Council in three days. By the time I returned to the Blackwood estate, dawn was breaking along the horizon. The vampire servants retreated into the light-sealed main house. I had barely stepped inside the old garage when a thick, sour stench hit me. My heart lurched. The underground cellar. I rushed over and found that the heavy iron door had been bashed open with a hammer. The broken lock and splinters of wood were scattered across the floor. The moment the light came on, every drop of blood in my body turned to ice. The Moonfrost I had spent three full years cultivating, using dozens of rare ingredients and my own blood, had been smashed to pieces. Sealed jars lay shattered across the floor, and silver-gray perfume paste ran into the drain with the filthy water. Someone had deliberately dumped waste from the blood-bag disposal into the cellar. The reek was enough to make me gag. Cecilia's maid Lina stood in the corner, still gripping a silver-headed hammer. "Miss Evelyn, you were away from the estate all night. Where exactly did you go?" She smiled with brazen confidence. "The lady was worried about strange smells in the cellar and thought you might be hiding contraband that would attract hunters. I had no choice but to clean it out for you." I looked at the wreckage, and my breathing slowed by degrees. Moonfrost was my way out of the Blackwood clan. It was the only thing in three years that had truly belonged to me. Cecilia wasn't fighting over a room or a necklace. She meant to destroy every route to independence until I had no choice but to crawl back to Damian's feet. "You're dead." Those were the only words I said. The smile hadn't left Lina's face before I closed the distance, ripped the hammer from her hand, and swung it backhand into her kneecap. The sound of bone snapping echoed through the sealed cellar. Lina screamed and collapsed to her knees. She was a low-tier vampire, turned less than six months ago. Ordinary wounds healed quickly, but the silver head of the hammer would block her healing. The shattered bone would be agonizing for at least two weeks. I didn't keep swinging. I pried her jaw open, shoved a black pill down her throat, and forced her to swallow. "What did you give me?" Lina clawed at her throat in terror. "A Hearteater." I tossed the hammer aside and stared down at her. "Without the antidote within twelve hours, it will send your blood out of control. Your heart will rot layer by layer, and the faster you heal, the faster it decays." The color drained from her face. "You like smashing things?" I crouched down and patted her cheek. "Go tell Cecilia. For every batch of perfume she destroys, I'll collect a life." Dragging her injured leg, Lina scrambled out of the cellar. I stood alone in the broken glass and bloody filth, closed my eyes, and forced myself to be calm. Damian. Cecilia. If you leave me no way out, then I'll rip open, layer by layer, the night you think is unbreakable. Chapter 6 In less than half an hour, the main house was in chaos. Lina rolled across the great hall floor in agony, her pupils completely black and bloody foam bubbling from her mouth. Cecilia screamed and called for the Blackwoods' private physician. The doctor examined Lina, shook his head again and again, and admitted he couldn't identify the toxin. Damian was alerted. He stormed into the old garage with a squad of Night Watch soldiers and found me sitting at the small table by the door, brewing coffee. "Evelyn, hand over the antidote." His voice was tight with barely contained fury, and the crimson of a vampire's rage had already seeped into his eyes. I lifted the cup and blew gently across the steam. "No." "You openly poisoned a member of this clan on Blackwood grounds. Do you really think I won't hand you over to the Night Council for judgment?" Damian drew the silver-edged saber. "A member of this clan?" I set the cup down and rose to my feet. "When she was smashing my things, why didn't you call me a member of this clan?" "Lina was only following orders to inspect the cellar. You broke her leg and poisoned her." "Whose orders?" Damian faltered. I walked toward him, step by step, until the saber pressed against my chest. "In three years, how much blood did I give to save you? How many kinds of silver toxin did I test? Every time the poison flared, I was the one at your side. Now Cecilia has destroyed my medicine and smashed three years of my work, and you don't even bother asking why before you come at me with a blade to make me save her maid." I held his gaze, my voice growing colder with every word. "Go ahead, Damian. My life was split up between the Vesters and the Blackwoods long ago. If you won't kill me today, stop using that blade to threaten me." His grip on the saber visibly stiffened. He had seen me at my most wretched and most vulnerable in the North, and he was used to me soothing him no matter how much I was hurting. He had never seen me look at him like this. Like looking at someone who no longer mattered at all. "You've lost your mind," he said through gritted teeth. At that moment, Cecilia appeared in the doorway, clutching the frame, her face streaked with tears. "Damian, don't hurt Evelyn. It's my fault for not keeping Lina in line. She was only worried that whatever was in the cellar might harm me. It's only natural that Evelyn resents me, but Lina is innocent. Please, just get her to hand over the antidote." The hesitation in Damian's eyes instantly turned to tenderness. He sheathed the blade and said coldly, "Give me the antidote, and we can put this whole thing behind us. I won't hold last night's unauthorized departure against you, either." "Put this behind us?" I almost laughed at the sheer gall of it. I pulled a small glass bottle from my pocket and dumped the black pills out right in front of them. "What Lina swallowed was just an ordinary pill mixed with an emetic and animal blood. She's vomiting blood because she panicked and lost control, and the residual silver in her knee is disrupting her healing." Lina, sprawled on a stretcher, stopped wailing and stared. I raised my other hand and crushed the incense wafer hidden in my palm. A colorless powder drifted on the warm air toward the living room. Cecilia breathed it in before she knew what had happened. Her body went rigid, and then she doubled over, coughing violently. "What did you do?" Damian caught hold of her. "The real poison is right here." I dusted the powder from my hands and looked calmly at Cecilia. "Silverfrost powder. It won't kill her. It will only make her feel like her bones are full of silver needles every time it rains or the temperature drops. She loves burning other people's medicine, so I'm giving her a taste of cold she'll never forget." "Evelyn!" Damian lost all control. He blurred toward me in an instant. But before he could reach me, a deafening crash came from outside the estate. The heavy iron gates had been rammed open from the outside. Black lightproof cars filled the front courtyard, and a squad of enforcers wearing Night Council insignia poured into the main house, surrounding the Blackwood guards in seconds. The crowd parted on its own. Lucien walked in through a corridor untouched by the morning light, dressed in a black overcoat. His silver-gray mask hid half his face. He barely raised his voice, yet every vampire in the hall went still on instinct. "You dare lay a hand on one of mine?"