Chapter 1

In my last life, I married the Vampire King to save my sister.

She repaid me by climbing into his bed on our wedding night.

He repaid me by draining me dry — slowly, over three years — until my heart stopped on a Tuesday afternoon.

Reborn.

I opened my eyes to the smell of old roses and my sister Vivienne's perfume. She stood in my childhood bedroom doorway, wearing the exact same saint's expression she wore the day she told our dying mother she'd "take care of me."

"Scarlett, the Vampire Court sent the marriage contract." She placed the black-sealed envelope on my bed, her fingers lingering on it just a moment too long. "They need a human bride from our bloodline. Someone has to go."

She looked at me — soft, pitying, rehearsed.

"I'll do it. I'm the eldest. I should protect you."

The script was identical. Word for word.

In my last life, I had grabbed that envelope and torn it open, trembling, noble, and stupid. I'd said, "No, Vivienne. I'll go. You have your whole life ahead of you."

She had cried. Beautifully. Convincingly.

And I had walked into a castle of monsters believing I was a hero.

Now I watched her performance with new eyes.

The slight upward curl at the corner of her mouth. The way her gaze kept drifting to the envelope. The practiced waver in her voice.

She didn't want to protect me.

She wanted me to volunteer.

Because the Vampire King's bride received a one-time blood dowry — enough to sustain our bankrupt family for a decade. But the bride herself? She was a blood bag. A renewable resource. Drained on schedule until she expired.

Vivienne knew this. She had always known.

Our mother had told her before she died.

She just never told me.

"Well?" Vivienne's eyes glistened. "Scarlett, say something. I'm terrified, but if it has to be one of us—"

I picked up the envelope.

Her breath hitched — Loss? Relief? I could hear both now.

I slid my finger under the black wax seal and pulled out the contract. The parchment was cold, almost alive, and the words were written in ink that smelled of iron.

One bride. One bloodline. Non-negotiable.

I read every line this time. Every clause I'd skipped before in my desperate haste to be brave.

And there — buried in article seventeen, in script so fine a human eye could barely catch it — was the clause that changed everything.

"Should the bride's blood prove compatible beyond standard thresholds, she shall be entitled to the Eternal Seat — a position equal to the King, unrevocable, even by death."

My blood was compatible. Extraordinarily so.

That was the real reason they wanted our bloodline. Not just any bride — me.

In my last life, Vivienne had found this clause before I did. She'd torn out the page.

I looked up at my sister.

She was already smiling — the gentle, self-sacrificing smile of a woman who had already won.

"I'll go," I said.

Her smile froze for exactly one-quarter of a second.

Then it widened, trembling, perfect. "Scarlett, no — you can't—"

"I said I'll go."

I folded the contract and placed it against my chest.

My dear sister. Last time, you stole my throne, my husband, and my life.

This time, I'm walking into that castle with my eyes wide open.

And you — you'll have to find your own monster to feed.