It had been a few days.

My skin wasn’t so ghostly now. I could feel the weight of my limbs again. The dull ache in my stomach had quieted—no longer howling like a beast. My eyes were clearer, steadier. I still looked like someone who’d been dragged through hell... but at least now I was standing on my own two feet again.

Valen came once a day.

He never spoke more than necessary, just offered the same quiet spoonfuls of broth and tea, and left once I stopped eating. Even when I spat out the first bites or turned my head, he never lost his temper.

That was, in a way, more unnerving than if he had.

Today, he didn’t bring soup.

He brought clothes.

“Put them on,” he said, tossing the bundle onto the bed.

I eyed him warily. “What, taking me on a date now?”

He didn’t smile. “You’re coming with me. To the Court.”

I opened the bundle and sighed. A fitted black dress—not fancy, but made from fine material. Sleeves long enough to hide the marks on my arms. High neck. Modest. Restrictive.

“Do I get a say in this?”

“No.”

I smiled sweetly. “Didn’t think so.”

Later, at the Court—

The vampire court wasn’t what I expected.

It wasn’t a gothic stone castle or a blood-slick dungeon. It was elegant—shadowy and grand, a dark forest of silk, velvet, and whispers. Vampires dressed in rich blacks, silvers, deep reds and blues, watched us from their thrones and balconies.

And every single one of them stared at me.

Valen walked ahead, one hand at the small of my back—not touching, but close enough to remind me I was caged.

“You’re not to speak unless spoken to,” he murmured.

I blinked at him. “You kidnapped me, locked me in a room, force-fed me like some spoiled housecat—and now I’m supposed to play doll for your little night parade?”

Several nearby vampires turned at my voice, smirking, eyes glinting.

Valen turned his head slowly. His jaw ticked. “Behave.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” I whispered, matching his cold tone.

He looked at me then, really looked—and something passed through his expression. Not anger. Not amusement.

Challenge.

The hall quieted as Valen stepped forward, bringing me with him.

I stood beside him on the raised platform, his presence looming like a shadow beside me. Around us, the court's many eyes bore down—some curious, others amused, and a few hungry in a way that made my skin crawl.

“She’s the human?” someone murmured.

“Pretty thing,” another said. “So fragile-looking.”

“She smells... dangerous.”

The whispers slid through the room like silk-tipped blades. I felt them land on me, one by one.

I straightened my spine.

They wanted to see a trembling girl, wide-eyed and weak. I’d be damned if I gave them that.

So I kept my gaze forward, chin up, jaw tight. I let my anger settle on the one target I could bear to look at—Valen.

I didn’t flinch under their eyes, but I stepped closer to him. Just half a step. As if to say: He may be the monster, but he’s mine to hate.

His head tilted slightly. I felt more than saw his reaction—something curious in the way his hand brushed lightly against mine. Not possessive. Not comforting. Just... there.

A soft chuckle echoed from somewhere above us. A female voice—smooth, mocking.

“She hides behind you, Valen.”

“She does not hide,” he replied coolly, without looking at me. “She endures.”

Something in my chest stuttered. I hated that it did.

I hated him more for saying it.

We reached a long obsidian table that gleamed under the low, crimson-hued chandeliers. The vampires moved like shadows, graceful and arrogant, slipping into their chairs with fluid poise.

All of them sat.

Except me.

There were no empty chairs left.

I stood awkwardly, my hands clenched at my sides, pretending not to notice the amused glances cast my way. Whispers curled like smoke around the room.

Then Valen looked up from his seat at the head of the table.

He smiled.

Before I could react, a blur—cold hands, inhuman speed—and I was pulled downward, caught and cradled in his lap like I weighed nothing at all.

“Sit quietly, little flame,” he whispered into my ear, breath a dark wind against my skin.

I stiffened. Rage flashed through me like lightning, but I didn’t struggle. I only turned to glare at him, my spine straight, refusing to lean back into him, refusing to relax.

A few of the vampires laughed—softly, mockingly.

“Adorable,” one murmured.

“Like a wolf keeping a kitten,” said another.

But none of them touched me.

They watched, fascinated, like I was some rare beast caged in silk. A pet, yes—but not theirs. Not to be played with. Not to be broken.

Valen’s arm rested loosely around my waist, fingers draped with deceptive casualness, yet humming with unspoken threat.

I sat in the lap of a monster, but I held my head high.

Let them look. Let them laugh.

I would not be their entertainment.

Not quietly.

One of the younger vampires—sharp-faced and smug, with eyes the color of dried blood—leaned forward across the table. His voice was silken with mockery.

“She’s got a spine, that one,” he said, eyes flicking to me like I was a snack half-wrapped in velvet. “Careful, Valen, if you don’t tame her soon, someone else might want a taste.”

The room went still.

The air thickened, like all the shadows in the chamber had suddenly leaned in.

Then—

crack.

The candlelight dimmed as black tendrils slithered from beneath Valen’s chair, like living smoke. They coiled up the walls, along the floor, pooling behind him like a beast unchained.

The temperature dropped.

Valen didn’t speak at first. He didn’t need to.

The vampire who’d spoken tried to laugh, but it died in his throat as the shadows gathered behind him—silent, seething. One tendril rose up, serpent-like, curling around his throat.

“I do not share,” Valen said, voice calm but laced with something ancient. Something that curled in your bones and whispered run.

The shadow around the vampire's neck tightened—not enough to crush, but enough to make his eyes widen with primal fear.

“I don’t care if you think she’s amusing, or weak, or wild,” Valen continued, his eyes glowing faintly red now, rust and ember. “She is mine. My flame. And should you so much as breathe too close again...”

The shadow flicked once—fast as a whip—and a thin line of blood appeared across the vampire’s cheek.

“...you will burn in silence.”

The shadows hissed back to Valen like loyal wolves returning to heel.

Silence reigned.

The cocky vampire slumped back in his chair, pale and shaking. No one else looked at me.

I should’ve been afraid.

And I was.

But not just of him.

Of the strange part of me that wasn’t entirely horrified. The part that felt... protected. Claimed.

And worst of all—the part that wasn’t sure it hated it.

Valen’s arm flexed slightly around my waist, possessive and victorious.

He didn’t look at me.

But I knew he was smiling.

The rest of the time in the court moved smoothly.

No more comments. No more looks. The silence around me was not respect—it was fear.

Valen had made his point.

When we returned to my so-called room, he opened the door without a word and let me walk in on my own. A strange gesture, almost like trust. Almost.

I stood in the middle of the room, back to him, arms crossed tight over my chest.

“I’m not your pet,” I muttered, not bothering to face him.

“No,” he agreed from behind me. “You’re not. That’s why I’m giving you a choice.”

That got my attention.

I turned, slowly. “What kind of choice?”

He stepped inside, shutting the door with a quiet click. No lock this time.

“There’s a traitor in my court. Someone playing games behind my back, and those games might involve humans—your kind.” His eyes bored into me, that usual stillness vibrating with something colder. “Help me find them. Root them out. And in return, I’ll give you what you’ve been dying to know.”

My breath caught.

“My father.”

“Yes,” Valen said, voice soft now. “Everything. The truth about his disappearance. About what he was... and what he did.”

I stared at him, heart thudding. A part of me screamed don’t trust him, but that same part still dreamt of my father’s laugh—still heard the echo of his voice calling me little flame.

I narrowed my eyes. “And if I say no?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Then you can stay in this room. I’ll keep feeding you. Dressing you. And eventually, someone will try to take you again. But this time... I may not be fast enough.”

A threat? A warning? Or something else entirely?

I hated him.

And yet—I needed him.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy between us.

Then I nodded, once. Sharp.

“I’ll help,” I said. “But don’t think for a second I trust you.”

Valen smiled—slow, dark, pleased. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

i look at him, i look at how his dark wavy mullet—touched with streaks of deep, midnight blue hair—falls around his sharp face, his predator eyes dark rust-brown laced with the barest hint of red. 

i quickly look away i heard him chuckle "you like what you see?" i look out the window, the moonlight spill through, full moon. 

"you wish" i hiss back.

Valen’s chuckle deepened, rich and low like velvet soaked in blood.

“You wound me, little flame,” he said, stepping closer. “Though I must admit... I enjoy watching you squirm more than I should.”

I didn’t respond. I kept my eyes fixed on the moonlight. It was easier to focus on the way it painted silver across the black windowsill than the way his voice wrapped around me like a velvet leash.

He moved again, slower this time. I could feel his presence at my side without even looking.

“I wonder,” he murmured near my ear, “if your defiance is a mask… or a cry for attention.”

I clenched my jaw. “Or maybe I just hate you.”

He laughed, low and dangerous. “Hatred is a kind of attention too, Lilith.”

I turned to glare at him, finally—foolish or not—and he was already watching me. Studying me like I was a riddle he intended to solve piece by piece.

Our eyes locked.

And for a second—just a second—I saw something flicker behind that predator’s gaze. Not hunger. Not anger.

Recognition.

Then it was gone.

He stepped back with the grace of a shadow and gave me a shallow nod. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

“For what?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He was already at the door, hand on the handle. He looked over his shoulder, a glint of something wicked in his eyes.

But he doesn’t answer he just walk out.

The door clicked shut.

And for the first time… I wondered if helping him would cost me more than I was willing to give.