England, 1841
Do you truly believe this will work, Veronique?" Rebekah's voice was low, nearly drowned out by the rustle of silk and the clinking of hairpins. Her fingers worked expertly to secure the lace veil over Veronique's fiery red hair.
"A witch's spell to grant you children? You know better than most that magic always comes at a cost."
Veronique smiled at her reflection in the ornate mirror, a smile that didn't quite reach her molten gold eyes.
"Rebekah, stop worrying. This union is more than just love—it's strategy. With Hamilton by my side, I'll finally have the protection and resources to live freely. And the spell? It's merely a precaution."
Rebekah, with her sharp emerald eyes and long raven hair, sighed deeply. "He's a mortal, Veronique. He'll grow old while you remain the same. How will you explain that?"
"That's a concern for another time." Veronique's tone was firm, her gaze unwavering "Today is about securing my future. Our future."
The room was alive with a flurry of movement as her other companions adjusted her gown, a masterpiece of ivory satin and lace that shimmered faintly under the candlelight. The scent of roses wafted through the air, mingling with the perfume dabbed onto her collarbones.
"You're sure you love him?" Rebekah's voice softened.
"I'm sure he's the key to my survival," Veronique replied, her eyes gleaming with determination.
The grand wedding celebration spilled well into the night, a spectacle of wealth and opulence. Dukes and duchesses, lords and ladies, all mingled under crystal chandeliers, their laughter and clinking glasses echoing through the estate.Hamilton, Duke of Ashbourne, stood at the center of it all, radiating charm and authority. His dark hair was slicked back, and his sharp blue eyes glittered with pride as he raised his glass to propose a toast.
"To my beloved wife," he began, his voice commanding the room's attention, "Veronique D'Aurelle, the most radiant woman I've ever known. May our union be as enduring as it is blessed."
Applause erupted, but Hamilton wasn't finished. He turned to the assembled crowd with a wolfish grin. "And to my new mission: to rid England of the scourge of vampires that plague our lands. May we all sleep soundly, knowing they are being hunted to extinction."
Veronique's smile froze, her grip tightening on her champagne flute. She laughed lightly to mask the rising unease curling in her stomach. Surely, he didn't mean those words as more than a show of bravado.
When the festivities finally wound down, Veronique and Hamilton retired to their private chambers. The glow of candlelight bathed the room in a warm, golden hue. Hamilton approached her, his smile softening into something intimate, something tender.
"You're breathtaking," he murmured, brushing his hand over her cheek.
Veronique felt the tension from earlier fade as she leaned into his touch. They began to explore each other with an intensity that made her almost forget who and what she was. Her cool skin warmed under his touch, and for the first time in centuries, she felt a fleeting hope that perhaps this union could work.
But then, as his lips traced down her neck, she felt a sharp, sudden pain. Her gasp turned into a strangled cry as she looked down to see a wooden stake lodged in her stomach, blood soaking her pristine gown.
"Did you think I didn't know what you are?" Hamilton's voice was ice as he pulled back, his face twisted with rage and betrayal. "A vampire. A creature of the night. You thought you could deceive me, but I've been hunting your kind for years."
Veronique's vision blurred as her fangs descended, her instincts taking over. She bared them in a snarl, but before she could react, Hamilton grabbed another stake.
"You won't live to manipulate another man," he hissed, raising the weapon.Suddenly, the door burst open. Rebekah lunged at Hamilton, her own fangs flashing in the candlelight. In one swift movement, she sank her teeth into his neck, draining him of his lifeblood. His body crumpled to the floor, lifeless.
Veronique staggered, clutching her wound as her golden eyes dimmed with disbelief. "I… I didn't know he knew…"
Rebekah, her mouth stained with blood, turned to her. "We have to go. Now."
.
.
Present Day – 2024
"Veronique!"
The voice snapped her out of the memory, and her golden eyes blinked back into focus. She was no longer in a grand Victorian bedroom but in the cramped dressing room of The Velvet Cage. The scent of roses and candle wax was replaced by cheap perfume and cigarette smoke.
"Earth to Veronique," Rebekah said, leaning against the doorway with an arched brow. Her raven hair was shorter now, falling just below her shoulders, and her emerald eyes were lined with kohl. "You've been staring at your reflection for five minutes. What are you brooding about this time?"
Veronique laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Just thinking about how long we've been doing this."
"Don't get sentimental on me now," Rebekah teased, tossing her a black sequined corset. "Come on, the night's about to start. Time to sharpen your moves…and your fangs."
Veronique caught the corset, pulling it on with practiced ease. She adjusted her fiery red hair in the mirror, fluffing the waves that framed her striking face. The past might haunt her, but she had perfected the art of burying it beneath a confident facade.
Out on the stage, the dim lighting of The Velvet Cage gave way to the neon glow of the poles. Veronique stepped into the spotlight, her golden eyes scanning the crowd. This was her hunting ground now, a far cry from Victorian ballrooms, but the thrill remainedthe same.
She wrapped herself around the pole, her movements slow and hypnotic. The audience was enraptured, as they always were. She didn't just perform; she mesmerized. It wasn't just about seduction it was about power, control.
Rebekah watched from the side of the stage, arms crossed. "You're still thinking about him, aren't you?"
Veronique glanced at her, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Which 'him,' darling? There have been so many."
"You know who," Rebekah replied, her voice softer now. "Hamilton."
Veronique twirled around the pole, the sequins of her outfit catching the light. She let out a light laugh, one that sounded more bitter than amused. "The only good thing he ever did was teach me never to let my guard down."
Rebekah's gaze softened. "And yet, here we are, still running. Still hiding."
"Not hiding," Veronique corrected, her tone firm. "Hunting. Feeding. Surviving. That's
what we do."
The music shifted to a slower tempo, and Veronique stepped off the stage, her golden eyes catching the gaze of a man in a dark suit sitting at the bar. He looked powerful, dangerous. Just the way she liked them.
Rebekah sighed, watching her friend move toward her next target. "One of these days, Veronique, the past is going to catch up with you."
Veronique glanced back at her with a sly smile. "It already has, darling. And I'm still here."
With that, she turned back to the man, her lips curving into a seductive smile. Another night, another hunt. Another step forward, no matter how much the past tried to pull her back.