Bound by the Blood moon

Chapter 1

The vampire Lords had cast a sinister silhouette over the land. The last werewolf strongholds had fallen, and many survivors were now subjugated to a life of servitude. Charlotte, a young woman of nineteen had encountered few of these unfortunate creatures, and when she had, she had treated them with a cold disdain that mirrored her father's attitude. She believed herself to be superior, a product of her noble lineage and her rigorous training.

Upon the tranquil shores of Hexsting, England, Charlotte prepared for her training. She felt a knot of dread in her stomach. Her father, Aldrich, a stern and demanding man, had a particularly harsh manner when it came to her.

"Remember, Charlotte," he had reprimanded her earlier that evening, "punctuality is paramount. Those mongrels will not wait for your tardiness." She nodded before he left, accepting his barbs with her usual grace. Her blue eyes filled with tenaciousness.

Born to noble French parents, Charlotte had inherited her mother's striking beauty. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her eyes a brilliant shade of blue. Yet, her father's constant criticism had eroded her self-confidence. He often treated her as if she were a fragile porcelain doll, incapable of handling her own affairs.

Charlotte's mother, Adeline, had tragically passed away during childbirth, leaving a deep void in her father's heart. Aldrich, consumed by grief and disappointment, had long harboured resentment towards his daughter, blaming her for his loss. Driven by his bitterness, Aldrich subjected Charlotte to relentless physical and mental torment. He pushed her beyond her limits, demanding perfection in every aspect of her life. Whenever she faltered, he would berate her, attributing her shortcomings to her womanhood. His cruel words and harsh treatment often left Charlotte feeling inadequate and worthless. Yet, despite his cruelty, she remained determined to earn his approval and prove she was worthy of his respect, training tirelessly in combat and developing into a formidable warrior.

Charlotte laid out her favourite gown upon her dressing table. The sapphire blue fabric shimmered in the soft candlelight. She was unable to see her own reflection, a peculiar affliction that had confounded her for as long as she could remember. She would have to rely on the discerning eyes of her maids. They, ever fearful of her wrath, would never dare to offer a critical opinion, no matter how ill-suited the garment might be. Such honesty would be considered a grave offence, a breach of trust that could result in dire consequences.

The annual ball, a grand affair of social significance, loomed large in Charlotte's mind. It was an event where reputations were forged and alliances were cemented, a delicate dance of etiquette that demanded unwavering adherence. Tonight, she was expected to give Emeric, a vampire from a powerful family, her answer. Her father, with his usual authority, had already instructed her to accept his proposal, a union that would strengthen their family's position within the vampire hierarchy.

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Lilias, a young werewolf maid, bustled about the room, assisting Charlotte with her preparations. The girl, who seemed to be of Charlotte's age, possessed mousy brown hair and pale green eyes that seemed to radiate a sense of vulnerability. As Lilias tightened the corset a little too enthusiastically, Charlotte winced. "Enough, please," she replied with a gentle rebuke. "Though I may be undead, I still appreciate the comforts of the living world. I require space to move freely, to dance."

An older, more experienced maid intervened, slapping Lilias's hand away. "Clumsy girl," she scolded, dismissing her with a harsh shove. Charlotte felt a pang of sympathy for the young werewolf, her eyes meeting Lilias's briefly before the girl averted her gaze.

"I beg yer pardon, Miss Charlotte. I vow tae dae better," Lilias murmured, her gaze still fixed upon the floor.

"It is quite alright," Charlotte replied reassuringly. She noted the girl's distinct Scottish accent, a reminder of the diverse lands that had fallen under the vampire overlords. With gentle gestures, she dismissed the other maid's attempts at further embellishment, turning her attention to Lilias. "You are doing your best," she said, her words sincere. "That is all I can ask."