They dressed me in red.
A colour I once loved, because it felt warm, bold, and alive. But now, it clung to my skin like a warning.
The gown was tight at the waist, layered with delicate netting that shimmered like spilt wine. Blood-red, they called it. Fitting enough for a bride promised to a vampire prince.
A handmaid knelt beside me, her fingers trembling as she fastened the ribbons on my heeled boots.
"My princess," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "please don't look him in the eye. They say he can read your soul."
I didn't respond. My thoughts were louder than her fear.
This wasn't a wedding. Not to me.
It was a transaction. A contract sealed in desperation. I was a peace offering from my father's crumbling kingdom to the most feared creature of the night:
Prince Caspian Drayveil. The last son of the Vampire High Court.
They said he was cursed.
They also said his beauty was ethereal yet he was dangerous. Deadly, even.
I stood before the mirror, barely recognising the reflection staring back at me. Pale skin. Bright red lips. Wide, haunted eyes.
I looked like a ghost preparing for her own funeral.
"I don't want to do this," I said aloud, unsure if I was talking to the gods or my reflection.
The handmaid flinched. "You have no choice, Princess."
She was right.
The contract had already been signed. In blood.
If broken, the Vampire High Court would retaliate without mercy. My father's kingdom would burn. My people would die.
So I was offered instead.
A blood tie. A symbol of alliance.
A human princess and a cursed vampire prince.
They called it a union. But it felt like a sacrifice.
A knock on the door dragged me from my spiralling thoughts.
I turned quickly, heart skipping.
My father stepped inside.
He looked older than he did yesterday. Weaker. Like sending me away had stolen something he could never reclaim.
His crown sat heavy on his head, and his once-stern eyes were soft now. Full of guilt and grief.
"Lyra," he said my name, brokenly.
I wanted to hate him.
I wanted to scream. To cry. To ask him how he could let them take me like this.
But I didn't.
I just stood there with my back straight and my heart breaking quietly inside my chest.
He walked toward me slowly, uncertain whether he was still welcome in my life.
"I've failed you," he said.
"You did what you had to," I replied.
He nodded, his eyes falling to the blood-red gown. "You look so much like your mother."
That hurt more than anything else.
Because she would've never let this happen.
"I'll visit," he offered.
"No," I said. "You won't."
We both knew the truth.
Once I crossed into the vampire lands, I wouldn't be allowed visitors, especially not humans. This marriage might symbolise peace, but it didn't mean they trusted us.
He kissed my forehead.
And then he left.
Just like that, I was alone.
---
The procession began at dusk.
They said vampires preferred the dark—because shadows made them stronger.
A black carriage with silver inlays waited for me at the castle gates. The horses weren't ordinary. Their eyes glowed faintly, and they moved with unnatural precision.
The guards rode alongside, silent and watchful. Their armour gleamed with symbols I didn't recognise. Runes. Spells. Warnings.
They didn't speak.
They didn't smile.
They didn't look away.
I stepped into the carriage, the door closing behind me with a dull thud.
The scent inside was strange, something between rose and ash.
I sat stiffly, the dress pulling tight with every breath. My hands twisted in my lap, searching for comfort I couldn't find.
Outside the window, the human lands slipped away. Villages passed in a blur. Trees thickened.
The sun vanished.
The sky darkened.
And then, I saw it.
The border.
Two massive stone towers stood like silent watchmen, carved with markings that pulsed faintly in the dim light. Between them shimmered something invisible but present. Like the air itself bent in warning.
Magic.
The driver didn't slow down.
I held my breath as we passed through.
The air changed instantly. It grew colder. Heavier. As if I'd stepped into a different realm entirely.
Because I had.
I was in their world now.
The carriage travelled deeper into the forest. Trees rose unnaturally tall, their branches tangled like claws. The leaves whispered things I couldn't understand. Even the moon seemed to hang lower, watching.
And then I saw it.
Rising from the mist like a nightmare:
Virehelm.
The Vampire Palace.
Sprawling towers clawed at the sky. Black stone veined with crimson. Spikes lined the rooftops. Bats circled above in a pattern that felt too perfect to be natural.
Lanterns burned blue, casting unnatural shadows across the stone paths.
And at the heart of it all, was the throne hall.
Where he waited.
Prince Caspian Drayveil.
My husband-to-be.
The carriage stopped.
A guard opened the door, eyes fixed to the ground. No one helped me down.
So I stepped out alone.
The palace gates groaned as they opened—like they hated the idea of welcoming me.
The air here was sharp. Heavy. Cold.
Or maybe it was just the fear settling in my bones.
A woman in silver waited for me. Her beauty was flawless. Inhuman. Skin like porcelain, lips like poison berries, and long golden hair that glowed in the moonlight.
"Welcome, Princess Lyra," she said, her voice sweet and smooth as honey. "The prince is expecting you."
She turned without waiting for a reply.
I followed.
The halls echoed with every step I took. Tapestries lined the walls—depictions of war, blood, and ancient rituals. Names I didn't recognise. Moments in history I'd never been taught.
A vampire kneeling over a burning body.
A woman bound in fire.
A crown drenched in blood.
We stopped before two enormous doors—each carved with the crest of the Drayveil line. At the top was a painted image of a man cloaked in shadow, surrounded by blood-red thorns.
"Are you ready to meet your groom?" the woman asked.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat because at that moment it felt like something shifted in the air.
Ancient. Heavy.
And in that breathless moment…
I swear I heard something whisper from the walls:
Run.