Bloodlines of the Night

Chapter 4: Behind the Bars

Chapter 4

Elira

Elira's heart pounded in her chest as the heavy doors to the prince's chamber slammed shut behind her. The moment felt like a permanent seal on her fate, as though her freedom had truly been stolen away the second those iron doors had closed.

She stood in the small, dim room they had brought her to after the prince's cold words of warning. The air was heavy with dampness, the smell of old stone and iron filling her lungs with every shallow breath. The window—barred and far too high to reach—let in only a thin strip of dying light from the outside. If she squinted, she could just make out the sky turning from pale gold to deep blue as the evening crept in.

"Everything," Lucian had said, his voice still ringing in her mind like an unshakable curse. He had promised to take everything from her if she didn't submit, if she didn't bend to his will.

The memory of his words made her stomach churn. He was a monster, like every vampire, but there was something about him that set her on edge in a way she hadn't expected. His coldness was unnerving, but it was the way he watched her, as if there were layers to his thoughts she couldn't begin to unravel, that had her truly terrified.

But she couldn't afford to dwell on that right now. She needed to think. She needed to plan.

Her mind raced, running through the events of the past few days—the capture, the trial in front of the prince, the hatred in her heart boiling over at the injustice of it all. Her blood had been screaming for revenge ever since that vampire soldier had come too close to her brother during the raid on their village. The memory of Kieran's terrified face fueled her rage, but she had acted impulsively, driven by the raw need to protect her brother. She hadn't thought about the consequences.

But now, here she was, shackled in the heart of the vampire empire. Alive, yes—but for how long?

Elira sat on the edge of the small bed, its thin mattress doing nothing to cushion her tired body. She rubbed at her wrists where the shackles had left raw red marks, her fingers trembling despite herself. The reality of her situation settled over her like a thick, suffocating blanket.

"Serve me, or die."

Lucian's words echoed in her mind, a brutal reminder of the noose tightening around her neck. What choice did she have? If she refused him, her village would be destroyed. Her mother, her brother, everyone she cared about—they'd all be wiped out by the wrath of the vampire court. She had to survive this, if not for herself, then for them.

But to serve him?

The thought made her skin crawl. Serve the very thing she despised most in the world? The very creatures who had stolen her father, who had bled her people dry for generations?

She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. No, she couldn't just submit to him. She had to play along, sure, but there had to be a way to escape. There had to be a way to survive without becoming a tool in Lucian's twisted game.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the door. Elira shot up from the bed, her muscles tensing, ready for whatever was coming next.

The tall vampire, Valen, entered with his usual stoic expression. Behind him, a young woman followed, carrying a tray of food. Human. She looked terrified, her wide eyes darting nervously between Elira and Valen as she placed the tray on the small table in the corner.

"You will eat," Valen said, his voice as cold and detached as ever. "The prince has commanded that you remain healthy for your duties."

Elira bristled at the word "duties." She had no intention of doing anything for that monster if she could help it. But she wasn't foolish. She needed her strength. She needed to be sharp if she was going to survive long enough to find a way out of here.

The young girl—Elira guessed she couldn't have been more than sixteen—kept her head down, avoiding Elira's gaze as she finished her task and backed out of the room. Valen gave a sharp nod, as if satisfied that everything was in place, before he too left, the door slamming shut behind him.

Elira's stomach growled at the smell of the food, but the idea of eating in this place, under their watchful eyes, felt wrong. Still, she couldn't afford to starve. Not when so much was at stake. She approached the tray cautiously, lifting the silver cover to reveal bread, some sort of stew, and a small cup of water. Simple fare, but more than she had expected from her captors.

She forced herself to eat, every bite tasting like sand in her mouth. Her thoughts swirled as she chewed, trying to piece together some kind of plan. There had to be someone here who could help her—some weakness she could exploit. Maybe there was tension within the vampire court, factions that opposed Lucian. If she could find an ally...

But who would ally themselves with a human?

She shook her head. No, she couldn't rely on hope alone. She had to be smart. Watch. Wait. Find a way to get close enough to Lucian without losing herself in the process.

When the food was gone, Elira stood by the barred window, staring out into the fading dusk. The cold air seeped through the small opening, chilling her skin but sharpening her senses. The sky had darkened now, deep indigo stretching endlessly over the castle walls. Somewhere out there, beyond this cursed place, her village waited. Her mother and Kieran waited.

"I won't let them break me," she whispered to herself, her breath fogging the glass. "I won't."

The night deepened, but sleep did not come easily. Elira lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, every nerve in her body still on edge. The castle was too quiet. Too still. It made her feel like prey, waiting in the dark for the predator to strike.

At some point, exhaustion finally claimed her. Her dreams were fragmented and restless, filled with shadows and sharp teeth, with Lucian's cold eyes watching her from the darkness.

And always, always, the sound of her heartbeat thudding in her ears, reminding her that she was still alive.

But for how long?