“You were the one!” Valeria’s voice sliced through the grand hall like a blade.
Before Lucien could react, she closed the space between them and slammed her fist straight into his jaw.
He staggered back, more stunned by the ferocity than the pain. A beat of silence followed, thick and electric. Then, he laughed. A low, amused, and unbothered laugh.
Lucien wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, checking for blood. “You really have quite the punch, Val.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, fists clenched and shaking.
He straightened, his smirk slowly returning. “Fine. Valeria. I deserved that, I suppose.”
“You suppose?” she seethed, voice rising. “You ruined everything!”
He shrugged. “I did what I had to do.”
She stared at him, breathing heavily. “You told them, didn’t you?”
He met her gaze evenly. “Yes. I showed them the video of you and Tristan.”
The confirmation hit harder than his words. Her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. “You… you recorded us?”
“I did,” he said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “And I showed your parents. Because I love you, Valeria. I did it to protect you.”
“Protect me?!” she barked. “You violated my privacy. You betrayed me. That’s not love, Lucien. That’s obsession.”
“I couldn’t just stand by and watch you throw yourself into his trap,” Lucien said, his voice raising slightly. “He’s using you. He doesn’t belong with you—he’s beneath you.”
Valeria surged forward again, ready to hit him once more, but a deep voice interrupted her.
“That’s enough.”
Her father stood from where he had been watching, silent and brooding in the corner. His face, carved from cold stone, gave away nothing. His black robes swept the marble floor as he turned and walked out of the room without another word.
Valeria blinked, thrown off balance by his sudden departure. “Wait—what? That’s it? You’re just going to walk away?”
Her mother stepped forward then, calm and cold. “Lucien,” she said, not unkindly, “give us the room.”
Lucien hesitated. He looked at Valeria once more, and she caught a glimpse of something vulnerable in his expression. But she was far too angry to care.
“Of course,” he said finally, straightening his jacket. “I’ll be outside.”
When the door closed behind him, silence settled between mother and daughter. A silence heavy with the weight of unspoken expectations.
Valeria was the first to break it. “I’m not marrying him.”
Her mother gave a soft sigh and walked slowly toward her, her eyes sharp with restrained emotion. “Why not?”
“You’re seriously asking me that?” Valeria threw her arms in the air. “He spied on me. He manipulated you. He—he ambushed me!”
“He acted out of loyalty to his bloodline. To our future,” her mother said. “He is not perfect, but he understands what’s at stake.”
“I don’t want a future with him!” Valeria said, her voice cracking. “How is that so hard for you to understand?”
“You speak as if you have a choice.”
Valeria laughed bitterly. “You think I don’t? You think I’ll just play along with this twisted royal game?”
Her mother stepped closer, her gaze cooling. “You’re the heir to the strongest vampire house in this realm. You don’t have the luxury of childish whims.”
Valeria stared at her, jaw clenched. “So I’m supposed to sacrifice my happiness? My entire life ? Just for tradition?”
“For responsibility ,” her mother corrected. “You were born into something bigger than yourself.”
Valeria’s voice dropped. “What if I don’t want that?”
Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Then you’ll bring shame to this family.”
Silence.
Then, quietly: “Would you rather marry that werewolf boy, then?”
Valeria’s lips parted, but nothing came out.
Her mother’s voice grew sharper. “I see. You prefer him. Tell me—what has he given you? What has he built for you? A future? Power? Stability?”
“He’s honest,” Valeria whispered. “He listens. He sees me, not the heir, not the bloodline. Me. ”
“That’s not enough.”
“To me, it is,” she said, voice trembling.
Her mother’s expression hardened. “Then let me be clear. You have two choices.”
Valeria’s breath caught in her throat.
Her mother took another step closer, her presence imposing, the air between them suffocating.
“One: You marry Lucien. You accept your role, your birthright, your destiny. You uphold the alliance we’ve fought centuries to maintain.”
“Or,” her mother said, her tone turning ice-cold, “you go crawling back to your filthy lover. You can have your stolen romance, but know this, the moment you bond with that werewolf, the alliance ends. The peace we’ve built crumbles.”
“You’d start a war?”
“No,” her mother said softly. “ You would. The second you choose him, the vampire royal family will sever ties with the werewolves. Tensions will erupt. Blood will be spilled. And you, Valeria, will have chosen to fight against your own kind.”
Valeria took a step back, like the words themselves had slapped her. Her legs felt heavy. Her breath shallow.
“And your choice,” her mother finished, turning toward the door, “will determine if you remain my daughter… or not.”
She walked out.
Her knees buckled beneath her, and she dropped to the floor, a sob ripping from her throat. The room spun. The fire inside her, so sharp a moment ago, had turned to ash.
She covered her face with her hands, tears spilling through her fingers, soaking the sleeves of her tunic. The world outside felt distant, and the silence in the room became a weight she couldn’t lift.
She broke down into tears.