Ella woke to an unfamiliar sensation of comfort, the softness of the bed beneath her far more luxurious than anything she had ever slept on before. The memories of the masked ball the night before weighed heavily on her mind, but for a moment, she allowed herself to sink into the strange new reality that had been thrust upon her. She was no longer in her cramped servant's quarters. After the ball, everything had changed.
The room she now occupied was large, grand even, though its beauty carried a dark edge that echoed the gothic grandeur of Blackthorn Manor. The four-poster bed she lay in was draped in heavy velvet curtains, the color of midnight, embroidered with silver thread that shimmered like stars in the faint light that filtered through the tall windows. The bed was high and imposing, the kind you’d expect to find in the chambers of a noblewoman, not a former servant. The thick, plush mattress beneath her felt like a world apart from the thin cot she had grown used to, but despite its comfort, it felt like a cage.
The walls of her new room were paneled in dark wood, polished to a shine, and adorned with elaborate tapestries depicting ancient scenes of battle and bloodshed — reminders of the manor’s dark history. A large fireplace dominated one wall, the flames within crackling softly, casting long shadows that danced across the room. The room was far too large for her, making her feel small and vulnerable within its luxurious confines.
Across from the bed stood a large armoire, its doors carved with intricate patterns of twisted vines and roses. Ella could only imagine what sort of gowns and garments were stored within. A vanity sat near the window, its surface adorned with silver brushes, delicate perfumes in crystal bottles, and other items of finery that she had never had reason to touch before. There was a full-length mirror standing near the vanity, framed in gold, its glass reflecting the glow of the fire and the eerie light that seemed to cling to everything in Blackthorn Manor.
The room was beautiful, but it was a beauty that came with chains. After the announcement at the ball, she was no longer just a servant in this house. She had been elevated to something else — a position of both privilege and captivity. She wasn’t sure which frightened her more.
Ella sighed, pulling herself out of bed and then she found a new dress laid out for her, a gift from Lord Sebastian. It was unlike anything she had ever seen — an elegant creation that seemed almost too delicate for this dark manor. The dress was a deep emerald green, made of rich velvet that shimmered faintly in the soft light of her room. The fabric clung to her waist and hips before flowing out into a soft, cascading skirt that pooled at the floor, its weight balanced by the lightness of its design. Intricate gold embroidery in the shape of intertwining vines adorned the bodice and trailed down her arms, glinting like sunlight through a forest canopy.
Two maids entered the room silently and began helping Ella dress. Their movements were as always swift yet gentle as they laced up the back of the gown, tightening the ribbons until the dress fit perfectly against her skin. The neckline was modest but elegant, framing her collarbones and accentuating her slender neck. The maids pinned her hair up into a simple yet graceful style, leaving a few soft curls to fall loosely down her back.
As they fastened a delicate gold necklace around her neck, Ella glanced at her reflection. The transformation was striking — the dress made her look regal, powerful even, yet it reminded her of the chains that still bound her to this place.
Ella stood before the tall mirror in her room, her fingers nervously smoothing the delicate fabric of the emerald gown. The maids had only just left, their footsteps fading into the distance, and she felt a strange mixture of excitement and fear lingering in the still air. The dress was luxurious beyond anything she had ever imagined, but it was more than just clothing — it was armor, a shield that made her feel like someone else, someone stronger than she really was. But that strength wavered when she heard the soft click of the door opening behind her.
She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The air in the room seemed to shift as he entered, a presence that was both magnetic and unsettling. Lord Sebastian.
"Stunning," he murmured, his voice a low purr that sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel him moving closer, though she kept her eyes trained on the reflection in the mirror, watching as his figure appeared behind her. He was dressed impeccably, as always — a deep, royal blue coat that contrasted with his golden hair and brought out the sharp gleam in his eyes. There was an undeniable allure to him, a dangerous charm that made her pulse quicken even as her mind screamed for caution.
His fingers brushed lightly against her bare shoulder, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Sebastian’s touch always felt like that — gentle, almost teasing, but with an underlying power that made it clear he was in control. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against the side of her neck.
"Do you like the dress I’ve picked for you?" he asked, his voice soft but commanding. "It suits you perfectly."
Ella swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "It’s beautiful," she whispered, though her voice trembled slightly. She couldn’t deny the way her body responded to his closeness, the way her heart raced when his fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
Sebastian smiled, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk as he turned her gently to face him. His hands rested on her waist, holding her firmly but with a touch that was more possessive than forceful. "It is beautiful," he agreed, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her knees weak. "But not nearly as beautiful as you are tonight, little bird."
Ella felt her breath catch in her throat, her mind spinning with the conflicting emotions he always seemed to evoke in her. There was fear, of course — fear of what he could do, of the power he held over her. But there was also something else, something she didn’t want to admit. A dangerous attraction that pulled her toward him despite everything.
His hands slid up her sides, his thumbs grazing the curve of her waist as he studied her face. "There’s something about the way you look at me," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper. "That mixture of fear and desire... it’s intoxicating."
Ella’s cheeks flushed at his words and she looked away, trying to escape the weight of his gaze. But Lord wasn’t having it. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes once again.
"Don’t look away, little bird," he whispered in her lips. "Not tonight."
Her pulse raced and she could feel the heat rising to her face as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above hers. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her, and her heart pounded even more wildly at the thought. But instead, his lips brushed against the corner of her mouth, trailing softly down her jawline until they found the sensitive spot just below her ear.
A soft gasp escaped her lips as Sebastian’s teeth grazed her skin, teasing her with the promise of what was to come. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against his body as he nipped at her neck, his fangs sharp but not yet breaking the skin. It was a game he liked to play — a slow, torturous build-up that left her trembling with anticipation.
"You know why I’m here," he whispered, his lips barely touching her skin as he spoke. "Don’t you?"
Ella nodded slowly, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she felt the tension between them growing. She knew what he wanted. He had come to drink her blood, to take what he needed before the formal meeting with the rest of the brothers. It was a routine she had grown used to, but it never got easier. The moments before the bite always felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the fall.
Sebastian’s hand slid up to her neck, his fingers curling gently around her throat as he tilted her head to the side, exposing the delicate skin of her neck. "Good girl," he whispered, his voice soft and laced with something darker. "Just relax."
Ella’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt his lips press against her skin, soft and cool. Her body tensed for the inevitable bite, but Sebastian took his time, teasing her with the slow, deliberate brush of his lips against her pulse point. He was savoring the moment, drawing it out as long as possible and she could feel her body responding to him in ways she couldn’t control. Her breath hitched, her skin prickling with anticipation and a tight, inexplicable knot of heat gathered in the pit of her stomach.
Finally, she felt the sharp, sudden prick of his fangs sinking into her flesh and a soft cry escaped her lips. The pain was brief but intense, quickly followed by a strange warmth that spread through her veins like a heady drug. She could feel him drinking from her, drawing the blood from her body with a slow, steady pull that made her knees weak. His hand tightened on her waist, holding her upright as she swayed in his arms, her body limp against his.
Sebastisn continued savoring her, his fingers tightly gripping her thick hair at the nape of her neck, while he began slowly moving with her toward the bed. Ella noticed this, but she couldn't resist what was happening. Or perhaps she simply didn't want to...
The sensation was overwhelming — a mix of pain and pleasure that left her lightheaded and disoriented. It wasn’t just the loss of blood; it was the intimacy of the act, the way his body pressed against hers, the way his lips moved against her skin as he drank. It was as if he were taking more than just her blood, as if he were drawing out her very essence, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.
When the inside of Ella’s knees brushed against the seat of a wide armchair near the bed, he slowly lowered her onto it, pressing his knee into the soft cushion between her legs. He allowed her to lean back against the chair, giving himself more access to the sensitive skin on her neck, which he couldn’t pull away from.
But soon he did, his fangs retracting from her neck with a soft sigh. Sebastian pressed his lips to the bite marks, sealing the wound with a gentle kiss and Ella felt a shiver run down her entire body at the tenderness of the gesture. Her legs felt like jelly and hands, which just a moment ago had been gripping the polished wood of the armrests so tightly, slowly relaxed, as if they now craved to find their place on something else — something warm and inviting to the touch.
He looked down at her, a dangerous satisfied smile playing on his lips as he wiped a stray drop of blood from the corner of his mouth and, without breaking eye contact with Ella, slowly knelt at her feet. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of hunger and amusement and she could see the faintest flush of color returning to his pale cheeks.
"You're incredibly delicious, did you know that?" he murmured, gazing up from beneath his brow into her stormy gray, like the mist that cloaked the estate, eyes. Flushed, her gaze was slightly unfocused and she simply watched his next movements through barely opened eyelids.
What was he planning? What did he intend to do with her next? And what did she want him to do?
"Perhaps," he began, his hands slowly and seductively sliding under the hem of her dress, "this might be a bit exhausting for you today, but..." A powerful shiver coursed through Ella's body as his cold hands began their journey along the skin of her legs, starting from her ankles and gradually moving up toward the inside of her thighs, bringing the fabric of her dress along with them.
"Sebastian..." A quiet, pleading moan slipped from her lips as she made a feeble attempt to straighten the wrinkled fabric at least down to her knees with trembling hands.
"Sorry, little bird," he interrupted her mid-sentence, enclosing her warm hands in his icy grip before placing them back on the wooden arms of the chair. "I won’t be left without dessert today."
The tight, heated knot inside her seemed to finally unravel, dissolving into warmth as Sebastian threw one of Ella's legs over his shoulder and placed a couple of weightless kisses on the delicate skin of her other thigh. Intense heat surged through her entire body in heavy waves, reaching all the way to her head, burning away any thoughts or doubts she had left.
He no longer wished to wait, nor did he try to prolong the moment as he had before. Feeling every bit the master, he firmly gripped her leg on his shoulder and immediately sank his fangs into the sensitive spot where his lips had just been.
Ella braced herself for a sharp, intense pain to pierce through her, but it never came. The tension in her body slowly melted away, replaced by a strange sense of calm. She felt herself drifting, her mind hazy and unfocused as the warmth spread through her body and between her legs.
Sebastian felt the soft pulse of her heart under his lips and tongue, expecting, as usually did, that it would gradually slow its rhythm. But not with her. Not right now.
Each beat grew stronger, faster, pounding loudly in his head. It ignited a fierce hunger within him, almost transforming him into a beast that craved to devour his prey whole. The rising excitement gripped him tighter, its sharp claws sinking deeper into him, making it increasingly difficult to restrain himself. But he held back, using nearly all his strength, because the feast had to end soon. He couldn't afford to scare her off — fear terribly spoiled the taste of blood, and right now she tasted better like nothing else.
He wondered what she was feeling at that moment. He longed to know, to admire upon her beautiful, troubled face.
Pulling away from her tempting skin, he didn't hesitate to leave a wet trail with his tongue, not wanting to waste a single drop of that sweet blood. He finished with a brief kiss. "Thank you," Sebastian purred, resting his cheek on Ella's thigh next to the bite’s marks. "You’ve exceeded all my expectations."
When he finally lifted his eyes to her face, something rumbled deep within him.
Flushed, her face was awash with crimson and glistened with tiny beads of sweat that had formed on her temples, tangling a few strands of her chocolate-colored hair. She was breathing heavily and deeply, her gaze never leaving her master. One hand rested over her heart on the chest, rising and falling with every breath, while the other one couldn't seem to leave her lower lip alone, nervously pressing it between her middle and index fingers.
"Dears gods, Eleonor..." the vampire whispered menacingly, pressing his palms into the armrests of the chair as he slowly rose above her. Stopping his face mere inches from hers, forcing Ella to tilt her head back against the chair, he continued, "You’d better pull yourself together and stop tempting me like that if you plan on leaving your chambers today."
Her eyes widened at his words, and she swallowed hard, unable to muster even a single word of protest.
Tempting him? He had nearly devoured her!
"Because trust me, little bird, if you don’t..." Sebastian began again, lightly brushing his lips against her ear as he whispered, "I won’t let you out of my arms for a very, very, very, very long time."
It seemed impossible that Ella could blush any deeper than she already had, but somehow she did. She felt like she might explode from the overwhelming rush of intense, heightened emotions — shame, anger, and... arousal?
Pleased with her reaction, which brought a dark smile to his face, Sebastian straightened to his full height and helped her up from the chair. Ella swayed slightly in his arms, her head spinning from the blood loss and the intensity of the moment. She felt weak, vulnerable, but there was something else too — a strange sense of connection, as if the act of feeding had bound them together in some intangible way.
Sebastian’s hand brushed against her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Rest for a moment," he said softly, his voice losing some of its playfulness. "You’ve done well."
Ella nodded, her body too drained to argue. She leaned against him, allowing him to guide her to the bed where he gently laid her down. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering for a moment before he straightened up.
"We have a meeting to attend soon," he said, voice low but commanding.
Ella nodded weakly, her mind still foggy from the blood loss. She watched as Lord Sebastian moved toward the door, his movements graceful and fluid, like a predator stalking its prey. He paused at the door, glancing back at her with a smirk.
"Don’t take too long, little bird," he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "The others are waiting."
With that, he disappeared from the room, leaving Ella alone with her thoughts and the lingering warmth of his touch. She lay there for a moment, trying to steady her racing heart, her body still tingling from the aftereffects of the feeding.
But there was really no time to rest. She had to face the others soon, to play her part in whatever game the brothers had laid out for her.
Having spent no more than a quarter of an hour in bed, she rose and moved to the tall mirror.
For God's sake, what a sweaty mess.
Before the mirror, she was trying to regain the composure she had lost after her encounter with Lord Sebastian. Her heart was still racing wildly, but she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Her hands gently slid up to her face, where the flush from his fiery touches still lingered. His hands, lips, eyes. She carefully touched her cheeks, attempting to even out the blush that had settled unevenly due to her heightened emotions.
Then her hands moved to her hair, which had become slightly tousled during the intense meeting. She picked up a comb and meticulously ran it through the waves of her hair, restoring their smoothness and neatness. Her fingers quickly adjusted each strand, trying to bring them back to their original form.
After that, Ella glanced down at her dress. She nervously smoothed the silk fabric, which had become wrinkled from her closeness to Sebastian. Straightening the dress and smoothing out the creases, she noticed her hands still trembling from the emotions that continued to surge within her. She took another deep breath, cast one last look at the mirror and tried to smile, though her heart still beat in rhythm with the encounter that had left its indelible mark on her.
A usuall simple knock at the door. Ella turned, her heart quickening as she approached the door. She wasn’t sure who to expect — perhaps one of the brothers, or maybe Mr. Hawke with another summons. Since the ball, every knock felt like a harbinger of something she couldn’t control.
She opened the door to find the butler waiting, his gaunt face as expressionless as ever. Yet there was something different in his eyes, something that told her that even he understood the significance of what had happened at the ball.
“The masters await you in the drawing room,” he said, voice was flat but carrying an undercurrent of urgency. “You are to attend to them immediately.”
She followed Mr. Hawke through the long, winding corridors of the manor, her feet moving silently across the plush carpets that lined the halls. The manor was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft crackle of distant fireplaces and the occasional creak of the old wood beneath her steps. The weight of the previous night’s events hung over her like a shadow, and with every step she took, she felt the walls of Blackthorn Manor closing in around her.
They reached the large double doors of the drawing room and the butler opened them with a heavy push, gesturing for her to enter. Ella swallowed hard, steeling herself as she stepped inside.
The drawing room was grand and opulent, as always. Dark wood paneled the walls, and rich tapestries hung from the ceiling to the floor, casting shadows over the intricately carved furniture that filled the space. A fire blazed in the hearth, casting a warm but unsettling glow over the room. The smell of incense lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of old books and something metallic — the smell of blood, perhaps.
The five de Vallière masters were seated in various positions throughout the room, their eyes all turning to her as she entered. Adrian, as the eldest and most commanding, sat in a high-backed chair near the fire, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he regarded her with that cold, piercing gaze that always made her feel as if she were being stripped bare. He was dressed in dark, luxurious fabrics that contrasted sharply with his pale skin, and even seated, he radiated an air of control and authority.
Lucien sat near the window, his chair angled so that he could watch both the room and the misty grounds beyond. He had a book open in his lap, though his dark eyes were fixed on her as she entered. There was always a calculating glint in Lucien’s gaze, as though he were constantly weighing every word, every movement, every action for its potential advantage.
Sebastian leaned back casually in his chair, his golden hair catching the firelight, giving him an almost angelic appearance despite the predatory gleam in his eyes. He wore a lazy smile, as though the whole situation amused him, though Ella had come to understand that behind his playful facade lay a dangerous streak that could emerge at any moment.
Vincent stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his dark hair falling over his face in shadow. His eyes burned with intensity, and Ella could feel the barely controlled anger that always seemed to simmer beneath his surface. He was a storm waiting to break, and she never knew when that storm might unleash itself on her.
Raphael sat closest to the door. He offered her a small, sad smile as she entered, though the sadness in his eyes was deeper than anything she could fully understand. There was something about Raphael that felt different from his brothers — a kindness that lingered beneath the surface, though even he could not escape the darkness that permeated Blackthorn Manor.
“Ella,” Adrian said, his voice smooth and commanding, “come closer.”
Ella hesitated for a brief moment, then obeyed, stepping forward until she stood in the center of the room. She could feel the weight of their eyes on her, and it made her feel exposed, vulnerable, as if they were dissecting her with their gazes.
“As I said the night before, you are no longer just a servant in this house,” Adrian said with a calm but authoritative voice. “Last night was only the first step on the path to your new role. You are now part of this family, in a way that few others can claim.”
Ella’s stomach twisted at the word “family.” She had never felt more disconnected from the concept of family than she did in this moment, standing before the five brothers who controlled her every move. The word felt wrong in her ears, like a twisted version of something that should have brought comfort but instead brought only dread.
“What does that mean?” Ella asked, her voice trembling slightly. “What do you expect from me?”
Lucien closed his book and set it aside, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as he regarded her. “It means, sweetheart, that from now you will play a much more significant role in this house than simply cleaning floors and serving meals,” he said, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of sharpness. “You will be bound to us — bound to this house — in ways you cannot yet fully comprehend.”
Ella swallowed hard, her heart racing. “Bound? What does that mean?”
Sebastian leaned forward, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “It means you are ours, little bird,” he said softly. “In every sense of the word.”
Ella’s breath caught in her throat, and her pulse quickened. There was something terrifying in the way Sebastian said the words — as if she were not a person but a possession, an object to be used as they saw fit.
Raphael shifted slightly in his chair, his eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to deepen as he spoke. “You will not be harmed, Eleanor,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but firm. “But you must understand… there are responsibilities that come with being a part of this family.”
Ella’s mind raced as she tried to make sense of their words. What responsibilities? What were they planning for her? And why did they insist on binding her to them in this way?
Adrian’s voice cut through her thoughts, cold and commanding. “You will no longer be treated as a mere servant,” he said. “But that also means you will have certain duties — duties that go beyond what you have known. You are to serve this house in every way we require. Do you understand?”
Ella’s throat tightened, and for a moment, she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. She understood, though she hated the reality of it. She was theirs now, fully and completely. Her freedom had never been hers to begin with, but now it felt as though any hope of reclaiming it had been stripped away entirely.
“I understand,” Ella whispered, though the words felt hollow.
Vincent, who had been silent until now, stepped closer to her, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that made her want to shrink back. “Good,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Because if you defy us… there will be consequences.”
Ella flinched at the threat in his words, though she tried to keep her fear hidden. She knew better than to challenge him, knew that any defiance would be met with swift and brutal retribution.
Adrian stood from his chair, his presence towering over her as he approached. He reached out and gently cupped her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. His touch was cold, but there was something strangely intimate in the gesture, something that made her skin crawl.
“And as long as you remain obedient, you will be protected,” Adrian said softly, though his words carried a dark weight.
Ella’s heart pounded in her chest as she stared into his eyes, feeling as though she were falling into a void. There was no escape from this. No way out. She was bound to them, bound to Blackthorn Manor, in ways she could never have imagined.
Adrian released her chin and stepped back, his expression softening slightly, though there was still a coldness in his gaze that chilled her to the bone. “You are dismissed,” he said. “For now.”
Ella nodded, her throat tight with unspoken words, and turned to leave the drawing room. Her mind raced as she made her way back through the winding corridors of the manor, her heart heavy with the weight of her new reality.
The luxurious room she had been given no longer felt like a gift — it felt like a gilded cage, one that she would never escape. The bed, the armoire, the vanity — they were all beautiful, but they were symbols of her captivity, reminders that she was now bound to the brothers in ways she could not fully comprehend.
As Ella entered her room and closed the door behind her, she sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as she tried to process everything that had happened. She had always known that Blackthorn Manor was a place of darkness, but now she understood just how deep that darkness ran.
But even in the depths of her fear, there was a flicker of defiance, a small spark that refused to be extinguished. She didn’t know what the future held, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Not completely.
Not when she still had hope, however faint it might be.
And so, as the sun rose outside her window, casting pale light over the misty grounds of Blackthorn Manor, Ella resolved to survive. To endure. To find a way, no matter how impossible it seemed.
She would not be broken. Not yet. Not while she still had the strength to fight.