DEVIOUS LOVE

CHAPTER-1 Beloved Prey

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Looking back now, Jennie should have known her destiny had been entwined with her the second she tried to stab her.

"At the very least, can you smile?" her aunt hissed from beside her. "You were invited to this ball to capture the queen's attention, but you're frowning like you're attending a funeral."

Jennie bowed her head and glanced down at the polished ground. Her tiara was slipping. When it slid off her blond hair, she caught it on reflex. No one noticed and she couldn't care less.

"Even if the queen is a pure-bred Vampire, you should still try and please her. As you know, Jennie she is a heartless woman. Just offer your neck to her and we will be able to live comfortably."

That is if she didn't try to kill her on the spot.

Jennie had forgotten the tale that was as old as time. A century ago, an ancient species whose name existed only in fairy tales came forward. They ravaged the modern world with brute strength and mesmerizing beauty. War began between the humans and the Vampires. It was the same cliché tale of good vs. evil.

History was always told by the victors.

The Vampires reigned supreme. They were praised as the most elite of races. Vampires seized daunting positions, from ones in the monarch government to large, corporate businesses.

Soon, they infiltrated every aspect of life.

"Goodness, if you weren't so dreary looking, like a girl greeting the grim reaper, I wouldn't have to worry so much," Aunt Eleanor added on.

"I-I need fresh air," Jennie stuttered out, at last.

Jennie's heart skipped at the unexpected stammer. Her Aunt Eleanor hated it. She had lost count of how many times she had been whipped on the hind legs for stumbling over her words.

"Goodness, not again," Aunt Eleanor said with a roll of her eyes. "The least you can do as a Princess is to show your face and—"

"Her Majesty is nowhere i-insight," Jennie muttered.

Jennie's heart raced when Aunt Eleanor shot her a dirty glare. Despite Aunt Eleanor's meager rant as a Viscountess, she still had an unwavering effect on the young woman.

Jennie wanted to argue that she was no longer a Princess. The title was discarded the day her parents tragically died and her throne was seized by a usurper. She was no longer royalty. Even so, Aunt Eleanor forced her to wear a tiny tiara, as if that would change anything.

"Don't back-talk," Aunt Eleanor chided. "As a woman, it is disrespectful for you to object to someone wiser and older than you."

Jennie cast a final glance towards the majestic ballroom of the enormous castle. Crystal chandeliers glimmered over her, as elegant music mingled through the dancing crowd.

There were beautiful women dressed with prestige and handsome men reeking of wealth. The sight was nauseating and the scent made her cringe. She desperately wanted to leave. This was not her scene. Not her forté.

"I'll be back soon," Jennie whispered. 'Or not.'

Jennie escaped to the balcony. The heavy, muslin curtains blew with the wind as she quickly rushed past them. The cool, chilling air licked at her skin, provoking goosebumps.

She glimpsed the twirling figures in the ballroom, her grip tightening on the railings. It would be great if she could fling herself off the balcony. Then, she could make a dashing escape into midnight.