Chapter 1
The pregnancy test showed two red lines.
I slapped a hand over my mouth, my whole body shaking.
Vampires couldn't have children. That was the iron rule of the night world.
But I was pregnant with Darian Warren's child.
I thought he'd be happy.
However, he glanced at my belly, his voice cold as the chill of a castle's cellar. "Get rid of it."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because you're nothing but a blood slave. My heir must be a pure vampire. No human blood allowed," he replied.
He turned and walked toward the woman in the red dress.
It was Isabelle Gilmore, a vampire noble, the one everyone thought was the perfect blood mate for him.
That night, I slit my wrist and fled the castle with the child who should never have existed.
Five years later, I stood outside the supermarket, holding the hand of a little boy who could run in the sunlight and whose fangs would come out at night.
Darian appeared across the street.
He looked at my child, Danny Langston, and for the first time, he lost all control.
Then, this thousand-year-old vampire earl dropped to one knee right there on the crowded street, in front of everyone.
He said, "Hi, I'm your father."
Danny ducked behind me, flashing his tiny fangs at Darian in a show of defiance. "You're a bad guy."
*****
"Get rid of it," Darian said.
He stood before me, still wearing his black gloves, looking like he'd stepped out of a funeral.
I gripped the pregnancy test, my hand shaking so badly that I could barely hold it.
"Positive," I managed. "Darian, I'm pregnant."
He didn't look at my face.
His gaze fell on my belly, pausing for a second. "I said, get rid of it."
A soft chuckle came from the doorway.
Her red dress trailed across the carpet as Isabelle leaned against the doorway, holding a half-full glass of crimson wine.
She said, "How curious. Humans can dream, too."
I looked at Darian. "You let her listen in?"
Darian took off his gloves and tossed them to a servant nearby.
"She's a guest of the Warren family," he said.
"And what about me?" I asked.
No one answered.
The fire crackled in the hearth, each snap echoing like someone was breaking my bones, one after another.
I asked again, "What am I to you?"
Isabelle walked over to Darian, her nails blood-red and gleaming.
She tilted her head and flashed a gorgeous smile at me. "Did you forget, Elizabeth? You're a blood slave."
Blood slave? I'd heard those two words more times than I could count.
On the auction stage, with an iron chain clamped around my neck, the auctioneer called me a blood slave.
At the Warren family's dinner table, when the nobles gazed at the bite marks on my wrist, they called me a blood slave, too.
But Darian had never said it to my face.
He taught me how to read.
He put his coat on my shoulders and said, "It doesn't matter, but you look like you need it."
He only drank my blood.
When I was trembling in pain, he pressed his cold palm to the back of my neck and said, "Bear with it for a moment."
I didn't think it was about raising me like a blood slave.
I thought that at least some part of it was real.
"Darian," I stared at him, "look me in the eyes and tell me."
He finally met my eyes.
His gray-blue gaze was cold as ice, without a hint of warmth.
He said, "You're my blood bag."
I gave a short laugh.
It was so brief that I barely heard it myself.
Isabelle set her wine glass down on the table.
She said, "My Lord, the Council of Elders is still waiting for you tonight. As for her..."
She gave me a dismissive glance. "Let the doctor deal with her.
"If people find out a human is carrying a vampire's child, it'll be a scandal."
I shielded my belly and backed away. "Don't touch me."
Two guards moved in.
Darian didn't stop them.
I looked at him, my voice stuck in my throat, like swallowing broken glass. "Are you really going to kill the child?"
Darian's fingers curled for a moment.
He did it so fast that I wondered if I'd imagined it.
He said, "That's not even a child."
I bit my lip hard, tasting blood as it flooded my mouth.
"Fine," I said.
Isabelle smiled, her tone mocking. "So, you finally get it?"
I nodded and slowly placed the pregnancy test on the table.
"I understand now," I said.
Darian looked at me.
I smiled at him. "My Lord, I want to offer you my blood one last time."
The room went quiet.
Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "You do know the rules."
Darian frowned. "Elizabeth."
"What? Not going to drink?" I raised my wrist. "You won't get another chance after this."
His throat worked as he swallowed hard.
At last, he came up to me and seized my wrist.
When his fangs sank into my skin, the pain nearly made me drop to my knees.
This time, he drank my blood slowly.
It was as if he wanted to make the moment last or say his final goodbye.
I looked down at his brown hair, my other hand feeling for the silver needle tucked inside my sleeve.
That was what my mother left me.
It was a hunter's weapon against vampires, so fine that it could pass for a strand of hair.
I didn't stab him in the heart.
I plunged the needle into the blood bond mark on my wrist.
Agony exploded through me.
Darian's head snapped up. "Elizabeth!"
I shoved him away, sending the wine glass tumbling off the table.
The red liquid spread across the carpet, staining it like blood.
Isabelle shrieked, "Seize her!"
I spun around and bolted for the window.