"Bowing to you feels almost as bad as dying, Kieran," I said.

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, forcing a composed look.

My heart was still pounding, not just from the near-death experience, but because he had saved me again, damn it. This whole hero-saves-damsel act just made me feel more humiliated.

Kieran tugged at his tie, annoyance flashing across his face.

"Your card depleted five years of the family's liquid assets. Had I not intervened, the elders would have already marked you for death."

"That's my payment for services rendered," I said, walking to the floor-to-ceiling window to watch the traffic below. "After five years serving a bastard like you, that's what I'm worth."

"Bastard?" Kieran narrowed his eyes, teleporting in front of me. He trapped me between him and the glass. "For five years, I gave you immense status, everything you could have ever wanted. And just because I took care of your life-saver, you're acting this hysterical?"

"Took care of?" I let out a laugh that bordered on tears. "You put her in my room, draped your cloak over her, and even got angry at me over a drop of her blood. Kieran, don't try to sell me on this 'benefactor' story. The way you look at her, it's like you found a treasure you thought was lost forever."

Kieran fell silent.

He didn't deny it.

The air around us grew suddenly still. His silence stung more than any words could have.

"Where will you sleep?" he suddenly changed the subject. "The master bedroom is off-limits this time…"

"The guest room," I cut him off. "If there's no guest room, I'll sleep on the sofa. Or in the dungeon, whichever suits you."

"Don't be difficult. Seraphina is weak. She needs the blood pool in the master bedroom to recover. It's the most energetically potent spot on the entire estate," Kieran's voice was matter-of-fact as he laid out the arrangements. "You'll sleep in the guest room."

I scoffed.

If there was a place for her to stay, why did she need to snatch my Moon Tower?

I had always thought Kieran's logic was strictly cold and pragmatic.

But when it came to someone he cherished, he lost all reason, wanting only to give her the best of everything.

"Fine," I conceded, not arguing further.

The next evening, the estate hosted a small "welcome back" dinner.

Officially, it was to celebrate Seraphina's recovery. In reality, it was Kieran's maneuver to get his New York inner circle to accept her.

I had no intention of attending, but Kieran threatened to throw away all the alchemical materials I'd purchased if I didn't.

Considering some of those materials had been delivered to the estate by default, I relented.

I descended the stairs in a simple black evening gown.

Jazz music flowed through the hall.

Seraphina sat at the center of the sofa, wearing the white silk gown Kieran had originally custom-made for me.

The dress was a little long on her, but as she gathered the hem, she looked almost fragilely beautiful.

Several vampire nobles surrounded her, showering her with praise.

"Lord Kieran is so thoughtful towards you."

Ignoring the chatter, I headed to the bar, wanting a glass of blood.

Suddenly, a peculiar scent wafted to me.

It was vanilla, iron, and a certain intoxicating sweetness.

The Saint Blood.

It was a blood type so rare, whispered to exist in only one in a million souls.

A century ago, Kieran risked everything to save her. He’d turned her, binding them with half his essence, and even used forbidden magic to guarantee she got their family's last Saint Blood Grass.

From that moment on, Seraphina's blood became a treasure, a source of deadly allure for vampires and a wellspring of incredible healing.

No wonder Kieran was so captivated by her.

It wasn't just gratitude for saving his life; she was also a prime source of "food" and "medicine."

I turned, and there was Kieran, behind the bar, shaking a cocktail shaker himself.

He was mixing a "Crimson Velvet."

It was an incredibly complex cocktail, requiring precise temperature and ratio control.

In the past, I had begged him countless times, and he had only made it once for me, on our anniversary.

But now, he poured the liquid into a stemmed glass and walked directly toward me.

I instinctively reached out to take it.

But Kieran didn't even glance at me. He walked past me toward Seraphina on the sofa.

"Try it, specially made for you," his voice was so gentle it could drip.

My hand froze in mid-air, feeling utterly foolish.

Seraphina took the glass, took a shy sip, then cast a triumphant glance my way.

There was no trace of timidity in her eyes now, only the smugness of a victor.

In the center of the hall, the crowd began to stir for a game of "Eternal Vow." It was an ancient vampire game where enchanted cards posed questions. You had to tell the truth, or be consumed by the flames of the vow.

Kieran was ushered to the center.

Seraphina drew a card and read the question aloud: "If a silver sword were to stab at you right now, and you could only save one person, who would it be? Your blood-bound mate Aurora, or... me?"

The entire room fell silent.

This was a no-win situation.

Everyone knew that while Kieran and I weren't officially married, we had a binding blood pact.

Kieran sat in his leather chair, fingers lightly tapping the armrest.

His gaze flickered between Seraphina and me.

I held my breath.

Even with a one-in-a-million chance, I hoped he would lie, just to preserve my dignity.

Even a lie would have been better.

Three seconds later, Kieran spoke.

"Seraphina."

Since it was the truth, the magic flames did not punish him. Instead, due to his honesty, the flames bloomed in the air, forming the shape of a red rose.

"Because she has no way to protect herself," he added, as if explaining it to me.

But in that moment, his explanation didn't matter.

I felt as if my heart had been brutally crushed by an icy hand.

My face burned with humiliation.

Watching Seraphina melt into Kieran's arms, I couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

I turned and fled to the terrace.

I couldn't cry here.

Absolutely not.

The cold wind sliced across the terrace like a knife, and I brushed a tear from the corner of my eye.

Cheers erupted from the hall behind me.

Another game, I surmised. Kieran, without a second thought, chose Seraphina again.

"This is your fate, Aurora," I told myself. "Even if you gave him your heart, it wouldn't be as precious to him as that porcelain doll, with all her 'royal blood'."

I pulled myself together, ready to go back inside, when suddenly, the air shimmered.

Years of ingrained caution made me freeze.

A man in a servant's uniform darted from the shadows, a jet-black dagger clutched in his hand.

My eyes widened.

It was a demon hunter's blade, coated in enchanted poison.

"Die, vampire!"

He was coming for me.

I dodged awkwardly, the dagger slicing my arm. My clothes ripped, and blood gushed out instantly.

The searing pain made me gasp.

"Kieran!"

The name just slipped out.

For the past five years, whenever I was in danger, he was always the first one to arrive.

The doors at the end of the hall flew open.

Kieran burst out, moving like a black streak of lightning.

He'd heard my cry.

My heart leaped.

He still cared about me…

"Ah!"

At the same time, a delicate shriek echoed.

Seraphina was right behind him, stumbling as if she'd tripped on a rug and tumbling toward the stairs.

From that distance, she would have barely scraped herself if she fell.

But facing me was death, dagger in hand.

In that split second, Kieran stopped his charge toward me.

He spun around, catching Seraphina as she "fell," holding her protectively.

Time seemed to stop.

I watched Kieran's concerned gaze as he checked Seraphina's ankle. All the while, the assassin, grinning, raised his dagger again, aiming for my throat.

My heart shattered.

Despair turned into a strange, wild strength.

I didn't try to dodge again. Instead, I grabbed a pure silver candelabra from a nearby table.

The silver seared my palm, sending up acrid smoke.

But I needed this pain. This pain made me feel alive.

With all my might, I swung the heavy candelabra at the assassin's head.

He hadn't expected me to grab silver barehanded and stumbled back.

The next second, the manor guards finally arrived, pinning the assassin to the ground.

I leaned against the wall, my hand a bloody mess, blood dripping from my fingertips onto the expensive rug.

Kieran finally looked up and saw me, covered in blood. His pupils contracted sharply.

"Aurora…" He started to move toward me.

"Don't," I croaked.

Seraphina, trembling in his arms, whimpered, "Oh, Aurora, you're bleeding so much. But I suppose it's okay since your blood isn't as precious as mine, right?"

Tears of innocence streamed down her face, but her words dripped with pure cruelty.

"Oh, and," she added, as if remembering something delightful, "I found a ruby necklace in your vanity. It looked so old-fashioned, I thought it would suit my cat much better, so I put it around his neck. I'm sure you don't mind?"

The last thread of my sanity snapped.

It was the Blood Moon ruby necklace my mother had given me. My last connection to her.

Ignoring the vampire doctor tending to my wound, I lunged for the fruit platter and grabbed a silver fruit knife.

"Aurora, stop!" Kieran's voice boomed.

Too late.

I stood before Seraphina.

She hadn't expected me to actually do it and stared with wide, frightened eyes.

I wasn't going to kill her. That would be too easy.

My hand moved like a flash, and I plunged the knife deep into her wrist – the wrist that flowed with that so-called "noble blood."

"This is what you get for touching my mother's things!"

Blood splattered.

Seraphina let out a piercing scream.

The guards dragged me into the holding cell.

No warm bed tonight. Just the dim, cramped space.

Special silver chains bound my wrists and ankles.

With every second that passed, my skin burned. It was the cruellest punishment for vampires.

But I didn't cry out.

Compared to the hollowness inside me, this physical pain felt almost like a mercy.

After an unknown amount of time, the small door creaked open.

It wasn't Kieran who entered, but an elderly vampire in a white coat—Dr. Vane, Kieran's private physician.

"His Highness sent me to tend to your wounds," Vane sighed, opening his medical kit. "You were too impulsive this time, Miss Aurora. Miss Seraphina is the future mistress of this household."

I didn't respond.

Seeing my silence, Vane applied ointment to my injuries, speaking as if making casual conversation. "His Highness just bought out the entire top floor of the medical tower for her. Do you know how fragile that holy blood is? Even a minor injury requires the best blood therapy. His Highness has been at her bedside, never leaving."

I closed my eyes.

While I was injured and locked away in this dark, cold place, he was with her.

"And," Vane lowered his voice, "the assassin has been identified. They were sent by the Ashford family. His Highness is furious, but he feels… you brought this trouble upon yourself, that you startled Miss Seraphina."

I let out a small, dry laugh, finding the situation deeply ironic.

"Then let him punish me properly."

Two days later, Kieran finally appeared.

He wore a black turtleneck sweater, his face pale, with dark circles under his eyes.

He clearly hadn't slept well these past two days—no doubt, he'd been caring for his precious one.

He opened the door and looked down at me.

"Are you insane?" was his first question. "That was a silver knife. If it had gone a little lower, you would have crippled her hand."

"She wore my necklace on an animal," I said calmly, meeting his gaze. "If I had to do it again, I would have gone for her throat."

"It was just a joke!" Kieran roared, his voice echoing in the narrow corridor. "Seraphina said she just wanted to see the necklace's quality. She never actually put it on the cat! She was just jealous of your jewelry, trying to make you angry. How could you attack her over something so trivial?"

"Trivial?"

I looked at the man I had loved for five years.

Suddenly, he seemed like a stranger.

"That assassin's knife was less than an inch from my throat that day. And she only pretended to trip," I said, pointing to the fading bloodstain on my neck. "But you chose to save her."

Kieran's eyes flickered with guilt.

But he quickly regained his composure and spoke with indignation.

"She has no way to protect herself! You are a powerful pureblood, you could have dodged, couldn't you? Besides, you weren't seriously injured!"

"So, I'm guilty for being strong, and she's right for being weak?"

"I don't want to argue about this," Kieran said, rubbing his temples, his tone softening. "Miss Seraphina's holy blood is very unstable. This injury has severely depleted her energy. You will reflect here for a few days. When she is stable, I will let you out."

He turned to leave.

"Kieran."

I stopped him.

"Did you ever truly love me?"

He paused, his back to me. There was a moment of hesitation, but then he finally spoke.

"I…"

"No need to say it. I understand."

I gently cut him off.

Kieran's posture stiffened.

He turned around, looking at me with suspicion. "Understand what?"

Leaning against the cold wall, I managed a faint smile. "You are right. For her, anything is worth doing."

This wasn't something I would have said before.

The old me would have been hysterical, demanding promises.

But now, I simply offered my understanding.

Kieran looked at my eyes, as calm as a stagnant pool, and for the first time, genuine unease showed on his face.

He opened his mouth, as if to explain something.

But at that moment, his assistant rushed in.

"My Lord, Miss Seraphina is awake!"

He merely frowned, then turned to me.

"You understand."

"I have something to attend to. I'll see you later."

He then swiftly followed his assistant out of the holding cell.

I watched his back disappear, a hint of irony in my smile.

It's always like this. Whenever Seraphina is involved, I'm always the one left behind.

But that's alright.

He doesn't know that when a woman stops arguing, it means she's ready to walk away.