My personal silver candelabras at the entrance were gone.

In their place stood a pair of tacky gold ones, carved with crescent moons and roses.

They weren’t even lit.

A thin layer of dust already coated the cold metal, since the castle’s ever-burning magical flames had been extinguished.

I stepped into the hall.

The air was cold and dead, stripped of the warm, magical pulse that had always felt like home.

Celeste was lounging on my great-grandmother's sarcophagus, wrapped in a thick fur blanket.

The priceless gown of celestial silk she lay on, my gown, was crumpled beneath her like a common rag.

She held my personal goblet—carved from the skull of an ancient sorcerer, able to purify any impurity from blood.

But she was frowning at it, seemingly displeased with the cold temperature of its contents.

"Octavia."

Lucien stepped out of the shadows.

He had clearly rushed back from Venice, furious.

The moment he saw me, a flicker of panic crossed his face before it hardened into a dark scowl.

"So you decided to come back," he said, his voice frigid. "Abandoning your post, sealing the vault... what the hell do you think you're doing?"

My eyes swept the hall. The ancestral portraits of my family line were gone, replaced with gaudily framed pictures of Celeste.

"This is my home," I stated calmly.

"Our home," Lucien corrected. "And it's Celeste's temporary residence now."

I remembered how he had promoted the useless girl.

When she was first turned, she couldn't even perform a basic blood purification, yet he made her a core researcher.

When she botched a billion-dollar biotech deal with the human government, he rewarded her with even more resources instead of punishing her.

And now she was making herself at home in my ancestral seat.

"Octavia," Celeste suddenly said, her voice cloyingly sweet. "Don't blame Lucien. It's all my fault."

She sat up, putting on a pitiful act. "I shouldn't have used your things, but it's so cold in here... and my residence was... accidentally destroyed by the Blackwood Pack. I had nowhere else to go. Lucien was just being kind—"

"Kind?" A cold laugh escaped me. "You call this kindness? Letting her squat in my home?"

"Enough," Lucien cut in. "Celeste is only staying for a few days. Stop throwing a fit." He strode towards me, looking down his nose at me. "You, on the other hand, humiliated me in Venice by sealing the vault. The entire clan is laughing at me."

"Then you should learn some restraint."

"Restraint?" Lucien's voice rose. "I am the Lord! Those resources are meant to serve the clan!"

"Octavia, please don't fight with Lucien," Celeste interjected at the perfect moment. "I can always move to the clan's public housing—"

"No," Lucien waved her off. "As compensation, Octavia should give you the master chambers."

I stared at him, incredulous. The master chambers were the private rooms of every Valerius matriarch before me. They held the secrets and heritage of my family line.

"That is my room."

"We are blood-mates. Technically, that makes it my room, too," Lucien said, as if stating the obvious. "It's temporary. She'll be gone once her new residence is built."

"Thank you, Lucien," Celeste said, a flash of triumph in her eyes, though her words were meek. "But I don't want to make things difficult for Octavia—"

"It's not difficult," Lucien waved impatiently. "Octavia is my blood-mate. She should be able to see the bigger picture."

He turned back to me, his tone turning threatening. "Also, you should transfer the castle's wards to Celeste. She's living here now. She needs to be safe."

"And the transfer fee?"

"A symbolic few drops of common blood," he declared with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Must we haggle over trivialities?"

A few drops of common blood.

The castle's wards were valuable enough to buy a small clan, and he thought he could take them for nothing.

"If you refuse—" Lucien narrowed his eyes. "I might have to ask the Council to halt the dissolution of our bond. Your behavior tells me you need more time to mature."

Celeste stifled a laugh, already picturing my surrender.

I looked at them both and found the situation utterly absurd.

"The wards?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, laced with something like pity. "Lucien... can't you feel it? This castle is dead."

The air went still. The smiles on Lucien and Celeste's faces froze.

"What?" Celeste was the first to react, her voice shrill. "What did you say?"

"Dead?" Lucien's eyes went wide. He looked around the hall, truly seeing the oppressive cold and silence for the first time. "What did you do?"

"I simply took back what belongs to House Valerius," I said, looking right at him. "It no longer protects anyone. Especially not unwelcome intruders. Congratulations. You're living in a tomb now."

"You..." Lucien's face went slack, then ashen.

The realization hit him: he'd been demanding an empty, worthless shell.

"Change it back," he snarled. "Now!" Of course, if you cooperate, I might consider not blocking the dissolution. But if you continue this tantrum—"

I cut him off. "What I mean is this: our bond severs in one month. Completely. And there is nothing you, or the Council, can do to stop it."