Vampire's Bride: Sold To The Dark Lord

Elara

No one should have to plan their own suicide before reaching adulthood.

I did.

That night would be the longest night of the year, and it would also mark my birthday.

I had never dreaded the arrival of a day like I dreaded this one.

For as long as I could remember, I had been warned about my terrible fate-the one that awaited all firstborns in this new society.

"Elara!" My mother's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Dinner is ready!"

I looked at my reflection one last time before getting up from the vanity and heading down the rickety stairs to the living room, where my family was waiting for me.

The staircase was lit by a half-melted candle resting in a wall sconce. Ever since their arrival, progress had stopped. We had been condemned to live their way. Damn nostalgics with an aversion to technology.

All I knew about the "advanced world" was what I'd managed to read in old books or see in photographs that were already beginning to fade and crack. We had spent over a century going backward in time, adapting to their way of life: we traveled by carriage, wore pompous and uncomfortable clothes, and communicated by letter.

I was born when computers, cell phones, and gasoline-powered cars were already just memories in the minds of the elders.

I stepped onto the bottom stair, which creaked under my weight, and found my whole family gathered around the table.

My mother served soup with a ladle, filling the bowls with a warm smile, because being able to offer us a meal like this wasn't a common occurrence. We weren't a rich family, not even middle class.

"Sit down, honey, before it gets cold."

I took my seat next to my seven-year-old sister, Abigail, a little girl with copper-toned curls and honey-colored eyes. She smiled at me, showing off the little gap between her teeth.

"Don't be nervous. Maybe they won't pick you."

My father's voice was sweet, just like he was. Sometimes I thought he was only like this with me because I had been marked from birth.

Being the firstborn marked me and condemned me to a miserable fate. A fate where I was seen as a mere food source for those cold, sadistic, soulless beings.

"I'm not nervous," I lied. "I've spent eighteen years preparing for this."

I knew the smile didn't reach my eyes, although I tried to convey as much calm as possible.

This wasn't easy for them-how could it be for any parent? In a few hours, it would be my eighteenth birthday, and in just a few days, there would be a full moon, which meant entering The Crimson Auction.

If you were lucky, maybe no one would buy you, but clinging to that hope was foolish.

We were products. We were just blood. In the end, they would buy us anyway, whether you were attractive, bony, or sickly. Sooner or later, someone would be willing to feed on you.

"To be exact, it's been seventeen years and three hundred and sixty-four days," my brother chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't ask me to be more precise with hours, minutes, and seconds, because I might fail at that."

I rolled my eyes; it was typical of him to resort to silly humor when situations overwhelmed him.

Silvano, whom everyone called Silas, was my younger brother by ten months, but he insisted on acting as if he were older than me.

He had a broad, stocky build, straw-gold hair, and honey-colored eyes like Abigail's. Mine were gray, empty, colorless.

Everything about me seemed to lack shine, from my eyes to the dark tone of my hair.

I picked up my spoon and tasted a little of the soup. My mother's gaze was on me, waiting for me to say something or react in some way. I smiled at her, and she seemed to relax in her seat.

Her hair was the same color as my brother's, slightly graying and tied in a low bun at the nape of her neck. And although her gaze was the sweetest I had ever seen, it was also the saddest.

"It's delicious, Mom."

I forced myself to keep eating, although my stomach was tied in knots from nerves.

I was a terrible daughter and sister for what I planned to do tonight. Surely they wouldn't be proud to have raised such a selfish daughter, one willing to end her own life out of fear of living it to her last breath alongside those insatiable and sinful creatures.

"So, you said you and Lea were going for a walk near the lake..." my father said. "You know you shouldn't come back late. It's getting dark. No matter what they promise, they are dangerous."

"I know, Dad. Don't worry, we'll be fine."

He stroked his scruffy beard with his fingers while examining me.

Did he know my true intentions? Were they written all over my face?

Finally, he turned his attention back to his bowl.

"Can I go?" Abigail asked. "Please, pretty please..."

"No," we all answered at the same time.

Abigail pouted and went back to her soup.

The mood was tenser than expected; it shouldn't have been like this, but the threat hung in the air, and no one was willing to ignore it. In four days, I would leave this house-most likely for the rest of my life.

I didn't leave a single drop in my bowl before getting up. I looked at my whole family, engraving them into my memory.

I wished I could tell Silas that I hoped he would one day forgive me for the price my death would cost him, for the way it would condemn him.

I wished I could explain that I had lived in fear for many years and I couldn't take it anymore. That death seemed like a walk in the park compared to the fate life had in store for me.

I did none of that. I just smiled at them one last time, ran to my room, and grabbed a fur-lined cloak Lea had given me years ago. I had kept it in pristine condition, as it was one of the few valuable things I owned.

After a few minutes, I slipped out the door under everyone's gaze. The cold air kissed my cheeks, and although the first snow hadn't arrived yet, I feared it wouldn't be long.

I followed the path to Lea's house, a few streets away from mine. The last workers walked the streets, eager to take refuge in the warmth of their homes. Some women were finishing gathering the clothes they'd hung out that morning, and shopkeepers were closing up their establishments.

Lea was right at the entrance of the small path to her house, waiting for me, all huddled in her cloak, her nose red from the cold. She smiled, and even without meaning to, it was a sad smile. Her orange hair framed her face.

"Elara!" She ran a few steps toward me. "I thought you weren't coming!"

"Sorry, I'm a little late." I linked my arm through hers, and we started walking through the dirty streets of the village. "How is the family?"

"Same as always. Mom still waits for Sophie's letters every week, but it's been two weeks since the last one."

"The roads are bad, the mail hasn't been arriving frequently lately," I tried to reassure her.

Sophie was Lea's older sister. A year ago, she entered The Crimson Auction and was bought.

Not everyone was lucky enough to have owners who allowed them to keep in touch with their family. Most were torn away completely, considered dead to the world.

Sophie was lucky to have been bought by someone who didn't care about anything other than having a midnight snack.

The lack of letters could just be a coincidence or, in the worst case...

"Mom is going to get sick if this continues, and Dad has been working too much. I think they are starting to fear the worst, and I... I don't know how to feel."

"I'm sure she's just a little delayed. Don't lose hope." I stroked her hand with mine, giving it gentle pats. "How are your latest readings going?"

I tried to distract her by talking about those huge books that spoke of the world from before.

Lea was a curious girl; ever since she learned to read, she loved scouring the stalls of the small market in search of books that detailed how life used to be.

I loved that about her-I liked sitting by the lake and listening to her chatter for hours about how people our age used to interact, or about the fashion back then, which was so changeable, fleeting, and much more comfortable than today's.

We arrived at the lake, walking arm in arm, and I ended up getting lost while staring at the water.

Lea was lucky. Her sister's sacrifice meant that the family's Libris was sealed.

Once sealed, the family was considered to have paid their dues in full.

Parents handed over their firstborn, and in return, received the absolute certainty that they wouldn't lose any more children, along with a small pouch of coins to feed themselves for a year. A miserable pittance in exchange for losing a child forever.

"Are you listening to me?"

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts.

"Sorry." I smiled, embarrassed. "What were you saying?"

"Don't worry." That sad smile again. "I'm sure you have a lot on your mind. I was saying that yesterday, during the walk with Mom, Felippo, the baker's son, stopped to talk with us for a while. He couldn't stop looking at me, maybe..."

"Maybe...?"

Her cheeks flushed.

"Do you like Felippo?"

She tried to ignore me, looking at anything but me. Even so, I didn't give up and started nudging her side, forcing her to face me amidst laughter.

"Don't be silly, Felippo is too..."

"Too what?"

"Too proper."

"Too proper?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're the most straight-laced person I know."

She let go of my arm and started walking backward, spinning slowly as she spoke.

"Yes, that's why I want someone rebellious, adventurous, someone who makes me feel alive. I don't want something traditional and typical-I want someone who pushes me to do new things."

"You just want to give your parents a heart attack," I teased.

Lea laughed again, twirling as she walked down the rest of the path.

We reached the end of the trail-the unspoken signal that it was time to turn back and return to the comfort of our homes.

But I had another idea for tonight.

As we retraced our steps and reached the end of the path, I stopped in front of Lea, meeting her eyes directly.

"I'm going home alone tonight," I announced. "I just need a few moments to myself."

"Elara, that's not a good idea. It's getting dark. You can't walk back alone-"

"Lea, please," I pleaded softly. "I don't have much time left. Soon, I won't have these walks anymore. I won't have time for myself-not even to think."

The hem of her dress rustled against the gravel as she stepped forward, pulling me into a tight hug.

I let her comfort me, breathing in the sweet scent of violets lingering in her hair. I felt the tremor in her shoulders, and I knew she was crying. I fought to keep the tears from clouding my own eyes.

We had been friends our entire lives, and now one of us had to say goodbye forever-even if she didn't know my true intentions. She would never receive my letters. I was so terrified of my fate that I planned to run from it like a coward.

"There, there..." I rubbed her back in soothing circles. "Everything will be fine. I'll write to you and tell you all about my new home. It'll be like I never left."

The lie tasted bitter.

She pulled away, unable to hold back a soft sob. I wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks with my thumbs and offered her a small smile.

"I'll write you so many letters," she promised. "So many you'll get sick of me."

"That's impossible."

"I'll tell you everything I discover in my books. I'll tell you about Felippo, and anyone else we meet on our walks-"

"I want all the details of your wedding with Felippo," I teased. "You're blushing again!"

"You're an idiot!"

She hugged me one last time, ending our farewell with a little wave and a final shout.

"See you tomorrow!"

As she headed down the path, she glanced back at me several times. I stayed rooted to the spot until her vibrant orange waves disappeared from sight.

I released the breath I'd been holding and collapsed onto the ground, right into the dull, dry brush. I didn't bother gathering my skirts. It no longer mattered how dirty my dress got.

The sky slowly deepened into a dark, bruised blue. The only sounds keeping me company were the evening breeze, the lapping water, and the rustle of the treetops. The lake sat at the far edge of the village, in its most deserted corner.

The nearest inhabited house had to be hundreds of meters away. It wasn't proper for young ladies to come here, much less linger alone in such a remote, isolated place. My parents would never approve.

I slipped off my round-toed shoes, followed by my stockings. I felt the cold earth beneath my bare feet as I started toward the shore.

The moment the water touched my toes, a violent shiver racked my body, bringing an instant, biting numbness. I took another step, and then one more.

My body refused to adjust to the chill. The freezing December water felt like hundreds of icy needles stabbing into my flesh. But as painful as it was, I wouldn't stop. I had a goal, and I wasn't going to abandon it now.

My chest protested, my violent trembling pressing the rigid boning of my corset tight against my ribs. I kept moving forward until the water rose past my chest. My teeth chattered uncontrollably. I couldn't feel my toes anymore, and my hands were growing stiff and heavy. I waded out a little further, struggling to keep myself upright.

Every passing minute felt like a grain of sand slipping through an hourglass, marking my final countdown.

Little by little, my entire body went numb. The biting cold began to blur even my thoughts. Small clouds of vapor escaped my trembling lips with every shallow breath.

Eventually, my feet grew so heavy that I stopped trying to move them at all. I remained perfectly still, letting my head sink beneath the surface, inch by inch.

The last of my air escaped in a rush of bubbles as I fully submerged. The shock of being completely swallowed by the freezing water was brutal. But the suffocating calm beneath the surface was even more unsettling.

I sank slowly, suspended in the dark void. I watched my hair float wildly around my face, my arms and legs entirely stripped of the strength needed to swim back to the surface. The cold pierced me like jagged shards of ice.

My lungs screamed in protest. My chest burned, the pressure so intense I could have sworn invisible hands were crushing my ribcage.

I opened my mouth involuntarily, desperate for air, but found only freezing water.

I choked. A violent spasm racked my frame. My vision blurred, the dead weight of my body dragging me deeper and deeper toward the bottom.

More spasms tore through me, shattering the stillness of the water. No matter how hard I tried to thrash my arms, they refused to respond.

Even though I wanted to die, my primal instinct to survive fought back fiercely. I had to remind myself, over and over-this was what I wanted.

My fading vision played cruel tricks on me, flashing the faint outline of a face that vanished the second I blinked.

The edges of my sight began to blacken, curling inward like a photograph catching fire.

"You must live. You have to live..."

The words whispered through the water, echoing in my mind.

"You have to live. You must live."

The weight of my eyelids grew unbearable, accompanied by the sudden, eerie sensation that something was rushing toward me.

"This act of cowardice disappoints me."

Something in those words made my blood boil.

The harsh judgment invaded my senses, burning like acid through my veins.

A crushing wave of shame washed over me.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't do this to my parents. To my siblings.

The Libris wasn't sealed. Silas would have to enter the Crimson Auction because of me. I couldn't condemn him to that hell. This was my burden, and mine alone.

I tried to pry my eyes open, to fight against the crushing weight of the water, but it was too late.

No matter how hard I willed it, my body refused to obey.

"Stupid girl."

Blind hysteria forced my mouth open again. Water rushed down my throat, flooding my lungs and drowning my silent screams.

Strands of hair drifted across my vision, wrapping around my neck like a silken noose.

I looked up, but all I saw was an endless, suffocating black. I was too far from the surface.

That mysterious face drew closer, looming larger and larger in the dark...

I lost consciousness. When I finally came to, my cheek was pressed against the muddy shore of the lake, smeared with wet earth.

The heavy skirts of my dress still floated in the shallows, and my legs remained entirely numb.

I dug my elbows into the dirt, desperately dragging what was left of my body out of the freezing water.

My hands trembled violently. When I looked down, my fingers were tinged a sickly purple.

I rolled onto my back. The sky had darkened completely, the pale moon now hanging high above.

My breathing was jagged and shallow, every ragged gasp tearing a sound of sheer agony from my chest.

I tried to lift my hands to my mouth to breathe some warmth into them.

My legs still refused to obey my commands, and my bare feet shared the same lifeless, purplish tint.

The night breeze rattled the treetops, carrying a new whisper to my ears.

"Accept your fate."

I whipped my head in every direction, searching for the source of the voice, but only the swaying trees and the empty path answered me.

The crushing weight of those words finally broke me. My shoulders shook as I burst into violent, uncontrollable tears.

I had been so incredibly selfish-a terrible daughter and a terrible sister...

I had nearly condemned my siblings to my grim fate, and my entire family to utter disgrace.

I covered my eyes with my freezing hands, trying to stem the tide of tears, but they poured out relentlessly, refusing to stop.

I didn't know how long I sat there shivering in the mud before Silas finally appeared.

"Elara!" My brother's frantic footsteps pounded against the dirt, growing louder and louder. "Elara! What happened?"

The sudden, desperate warmth of his arms enveloped me. Instinctively, my numb hands reached up to fist his shirt, clinging to him for dear life.

I buried my face in Silas' chest, soaking his shirt with my dripping hair and clothes.

He murmured something I couldn't understand, rocking us gently back and forth.

"Easy, easy, Elara... It's okay now."

I felt his fingers tangle in my hair as he stroked the damp strands.

His embrace was exactly what I needed-something I hadn't realized until that very moment.

Small clouds of vapor formed in the frigid air with each of my panting breaths.

His hands massaged my feet and ankles, desperately trying to restore my circulation and rub away the sickly, pale color.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

I shook my head, and he didn't press the issue.

That was what I liked about him. We shared a bond, an unspoken agreement not to push each other when the answers were too painful to give.

We spent a long time by the lake. I clung to him, trying to siphon his body heat, while he constantly checked to see if the circulation in my limbs was returning to normal.

"I hope you know you're going to cause a stir when we get home."

He slipped one arm around my back and the other under my knees, lifting me effortlessly off the ground.

"Mom and Dad are going to freak out when they see you like this."

I nodded. My parents were already going to make a scene about me missing curfew, and showing up half-frozen wouldn't help.

Silas didn't say anything else. He carried me in silence down the path and into the empty streets of the village.

The cold still lingered deep in my bones, and I didn't know what else to do to warm up.

I let out a sigh of relief when I spotted our house in the distance, its windows casting a warm orange glow into the night.

When we reached the door, Silas kicked it open, and my family's avalanche of worry began.

"What happened?" my father asked, shooting up from his chair by the fireplace.

"Elara!" My mother's scream cut through the air. "My baby! What happened? You're soaked!"

"Bring as many blankets as you can," Silas ordered, carrying me straight toward the hearth.

I didn't even get to feel the relief of the fire's warmth.

I passed out on the way there, the last thing I registered being the sharp jolt of my head falling back against his shoulder.

As expected, I spent my birthday and the days that followed confined to bed, battling a bout of pneumonia that made every breath leave my chest in a painful wheeze.

Four days later, my appearance hadn't improved much, and a dark part of me hoped it would serve as an excuse so no one would buy me tonight.

My thick black hair was carefully pinned at the nape of my neck with small floral clips. My skin held a lifeless pallor, and deep purple hollows rested beneath my eyes.

"My little girl..." Mom said through her tears, gently pinching my cheeks to force some color into them. "I'm not ready for this moment. None of us are."

My chest tightened with every word. I blinked rapidly, fighting back the urge to cry. Breaking down now would only make everything harder.

"Don't worry, Mom. Maybe I'll get lucky and no one will find me appetizing enough tonight."

My mother stared at me, her red, tear-flooded eyes entirely devoid of humor.

"Whether you like it or not, this is the last night you will spend under our roof." She rested her hands on my shoulders before pulling me into a tight hug. She stroked my back lightly. "Stay healthy-not for them, but for yourself, Elara. Write to us. Tell us somehow that you're still alive."

"I'll try," I replied, though my voice lacked conviction.

Most of us already knew the fate that awaited us once we were bought.

Every vampire was supposed to have a set number of blood feeders based on their rank. No more, no less, as long as the feeders remained healthy and capable of fulfilling their duties.

They were not allowed to harm us, overfeed, or hasten our deaths. But those were just words-hollow laws written by their ancestors and ours to ensure a fragile peace.

In practice, many of them drank to excess. They drained us dry, discarded us, and quickly found replacements-all with the eager collaboration, of course, of the corrupt Crimson Auctions.

Mom left me alone for a few moments. I used the quiet to burn every detail of the room into my memory. For eighteen years, this had been my sanctuary, my place of rest and whispered confessions.

I was wearing the prettiest, newest dress in my closet. The one that squeezed my chest so tightly it made it hard to breathe.

It was made of heavy green velvet embroidered with gold thread, its square neckline deliberately cut to reveal the curve of my breasts. I stood up from the stool in front of the vanity and grabbed my shawl.

Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I involuntarily traced my fingers along the curve of my neck, as if I already knew I would never see it unmarred again. I wrapped the shawl over my shoulders, clutching it tightly to my chest, and left the room.

I walked down the stairs, listening to every familiar creak of the wood, and found my entire family waiting for me at the bottom.

"You look beautiful," Silas said, his eyes shining.

"Elara always looks beautiful." Dad caught my hand the second I stepped off the last stair. He pulled me to his chest, hugging me so fiercely my bones protested.

Even so, I didn't utter a single word of complaint.

I stayed there for a long moment, knowing this would be the last time I'd ever be held in my father's arms.

It was achingly hard to pull away.

"Elara?" a childish voice called out.

My little sister peered up at me from between the adults. Her big honey-colored eyes watched me, wide and frightened. I forced a smile to reassure her. I knelt to hug her, nestling her face against my chest as I stroked her coppery curls.

I was going to miss this so much...

I wouldn't be there to bandage her scraped knees the next time she fell while playing. There would be no more stories by candlelight, and I would never get to see her smile over her first crush.

Our parents watched the scene with pure anguish. Silas joined the hug, wrapping his arms around us, trying to shield us from the world with the sheer span of his body.

I inhaled the familiar scent of home, swallowing hard to hold back my tears.

The sudden toll of a bell shattered the silence.

The Crimson Auction was officially open to receive us.

Each heavy chime fell over us like a bucket of ice water.

Mom grabbed Abigail's hand, and my father offered his arm to escort me.

Silas stood to my right and pulled the front door open, letting in a harsh gust of icy air.

We all held our breath for a split second before stepping out into the night.

The street was completely empty, though dozens of pairs of eyes watched us from behind drawn curtains and dark windows.

Every full moon was a grim event. The villagers watched from the safety of their homes with shivers and heavy hearts, because every time a girl walked toward the Crimson Auction, it served as a brutal reminder of what would inevitably happen to their own families. And we weren't alone.

Tonight, the exact same auction was taking place in hundreds of other cursed villages just like ours.