The ride to Vermillion Keep was long and bitterly cold.
Dorian's carriage, draped in black silk and iron-bound wheels, carved through the snowy roads like a hearse. Lora sat inside, wrapped in the crimson gown the Court had demanded, a mockery of royalty, of past sins dressed in beauty.
Her heart beat fast, steady as a drum of war.
Across from her, Dorian sat cloaked in shadow, a predator in waiting. The sword at his side had drunk blood centuries old. His eyes never left her,not with softness now, but with the hard, unflinching gaze of a protector ready to kill.
Samantha rode behind on horseback. Two guards followed. She couldn't help but follow Dorian everywhere he goes. She had served Dorian for almost a century, if only he'll notice her for a second. She wishes her plans work out well here.If only she could have Dorian only to herself...
The city of Vermillion loomed ahead, ancient stone, red spires piercing the grey sky. Snow fell in silent sheets as they passed through the iron gates. Vampires lined the streets—hooded figures, hungry eyes.
All watching her.
The infamous bride returned.
Vermillion Keep was colder than the grave. Black marble floors. Red banners swaying above like dried skins. Fires burned low in iron braziers that offered no warmth.
At the great entrance, the summons was presented.
The Court Chamber opened.
Dorian took her arm, his grip steady but fierce. "Stay close. Speak only when I command it."
Lora swallowed and nodded.
They entered the chamber.
A long, vaulted hall, with a stone table carved from a single slab of obsidian. Twelve thrones rose behind it, one for each High Blood Lord of the Crimson Court. Shadows clung to the vaulted ceiling like carrion birds.
And at the far end, upon the highest throne, sat the First of the Court—Lord Malrec, ancient and cruel beyond measure. His skin was pale as bone, eyes burning red. Black talons rested on the arms of his throne.
A low murmur swept the chamber as Lora entered. Dozens of eyes turned on her—Court guards, ancient courtiers, emissaries of lesser Houses.
The lost bride.
The betrayer.
---
"Lord Dorian Virel," Malrec's voice echoed like breaking ice. "You were summoned. You bring… her."
Dorian's voice was cold steel. "I do."
"She is not yet proven. Not yet trusted."
"She is my bride," Dorian said louder. "Bound to House Virel by blood and vow."
A ripple passed through the chamber. Some sneered. Others whispered. Some looked… afraid.
Malrec's eyes burned. "And yet she was once another's bride. A traitor to us."
Lora's heart pounded. She wanted to speak—but Dorian's hand gripped hers, stilling her.
"She remembers nothing," Dorian said.
"Convenient," Malrec sneered. "Perhaps a lie."
He rose, moving with unnatural grace. "Perhaps… she is still dangerous."
The Lords of the Court murmured in dark agreement.
Malrec's eyes locked on virel.
"Lady Evelyn Lora Moreau, do you deny it?" he asked. "Do you deny that you stood with the Enemy King? That you betrayed the Blood Alliance, and by your actions—sent thousands to the pyres?"
Lora's mouth went dry.
Dorian spoke sharply. "You will not interrogate her. I speak for her."
A hiss of displeasure swept the Court.
Malrec's gaze sharpened. "And if you lie for her, Lord Virel? Will you forfeit your House, Everything you own, or have to shield a traitor?"
Gasps rose.
Dorian's expression was pure steel. "I would forfeit everything. I stand for her."
A tense silence followed.
Lora's heart thudded. She looked at Dorian—saw the truth in his eyes. He would face ruin, even death, to protect her.
But why?
Memories churned beneath her skin, flickers of battlefields, blood-soaked banners… a man's voice in her mind not Dorian's…
"Come to me. Leave him."
Her breath caught.
Was it true? Had she once betrayed Dorian? Had she loved another?
She couldn't remember… but something deep inside twisted with guilt.
---
Malrec sneered. "Then let her prove herself."
He gestured—and two guards dragged a prisoner forward: a vampire chained in iron, face bruised, lips torn.
"A spy from the Outer Clans," Malrec said. "One who seeks to sow dissent against the Court."
He bared fangs. "Let the bride judge him. Let her prove loyalty."
The prisoner's gaze locked on Lora, bloody, desperate.
Lora froze.
A test. A trap.
Dorian's voice was low, urgent. "Do nothing. This is meant to break you."
Malrec smiled cruelly. "Does she hesitate? Does the bride pity the enemy?"
The Lords murmured. Pressure mounted.
Lora's head spun. Her throat tightened. Her blood, her power, stirred.
And in that moment, the hidden door behind her mind cracked.
A memory flashed.
She stood in a vast red hall, another Keep, another Court. A man with golden eyes smiled at her. A king, not Dorian.
"Stand with me, as my queen."
NO!
Her knees buckled.
Dorian caught her, held her upright.
"I will not have her broken for your amusement," Dorian said darkly.
Malrec's smile thinned. "Then you defy the Court."
A dozen guards stepped forward, weapons bared.
Tension snapped.
Dorian drew his blade in a blur of shadow.
The chamber gasped.
He pointed the blade at Malrec. "Touch her, and I will gut you where you stand."
A stunned silence.
Then—laughter. Dark, rich, terrifying.
Lord Malrec gestured. "Let him test us."
But before the guards could advance—one of the other Lords leapt forward, fangs bared, moving for Lora.
Dorian moved faster.
Steel flashed.
Blood sprayed the black stone.
The attacking Lord fell headless at Lora's feet.
---
The Court erupted into chaos and fear.
Screams, weapons drawn, guards moving.
Dorian stood over Lora, blade dripping red.
"Enough!" he roared, voice echoing through the chamber. "You will not touch her. You will not take her."
Malrec rose slowly, expression unreadable.
And then—he laughed again.
"Very well, Lord Virel," he said coldly. "You may keep your bride… for now."
With Lora being ragged out with her shaken body, her buried memories stirring violently. The Court now fears Dorian's wrath—and her true power remains unknown. The next trial looms.
---
The return to Dorian's estate was silent, save for the sound of the horses' hooves striking stone.
Lora sat pressed against the velvet seat, her body trembling—not from cold, but from the memory of blood. The decapitated vampire Lord's body, the way Dorian had moved—lethal, merciless, without hesitation.
Her heart ached with a strange, sharp mixture of fear… and something darker. Desire? No. It couldn't be.
Across from her, Dorian watched. His blade rested beside him, still red at the hilt.
"You should not have been there, I should not have taken you there," he said at last, voice hoarse.
"I had no choice," Lora whispered. "Neither did you."
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the walls between them thinned. She saw beneath his mask,the fury, the protectiveness… and beneath that, something deeper. Not cold calculation.
Possession. Need.
They arrived at the estate.
Guards cleared the gates. Samantha was already inside,awaiting them in the grand entry hall.
Dorian proposed to carry her in,but she refuses.
Lora stepped out of the carriage,only to stumble as her knees gave way.
Dorian caught her in his arms. "Enough. You will not fall."
Without asking, he swept her up—strong arms locking around her as he carried her into the house.
Gasps from the servants. Murmurs in the halls.
Lora's heart thundered.
---
In the privacy of his chambers, Dorian set her down on the edge of his massive bed. The room glowed dimly with soft light. Thick velvet drapes closed out the night.
He knelt before her, taking her shaking hands in his. His touch was warm, gentle despite the predator beneath.
"I killed one of the Lords," he said quietly. "For you."
Lora's throat closed.
"Why?" she whispered. "You risked everything."
His eyes burned. "Because you are mine. They would have broken you."
Silence stretched.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth,blood still at the corner.
An urge rose inside her,alien, terrifying, hungry.
She wanted him.
Not as protector. Not as captor.
As the man he had once been to her,the man her dreams whispered of in shadows.
She rose, trembling, placing her hand against his chest. Felt the steady thrum of his heart,not dead, as legends claimed, but slow and deep.
"Tell me the truth," she whispered. "What happened, before… when I was taken."
Dorian's jaw clenched.
"You loved me," he said, voice low. "And I loved you. But they poisoned your mind,twisted everything. Took you from me."
"Who?" she whispered.
He shook his head. "Not now."
He cupped her face, voice rough with emotion. "I will not lose you again."
The tension between them snapped.
His mouth found hers,hot, fierce, consuming.
She gasped,parted her lips,and the kiss deepened, tongues entwined in desperate need.
Lora's hands fisted in his coat, pulling him closer.
A moan escaped her throat,half pain, half hunger.
He growled,lifting her effortlessly, laying her down upon the silk sheets.
Clothes fell away,her crimson gown sliding from her shoulders, pooling around her hips.
His mouth traced her neck, teeth grazing the skin,but not biting. Not yet.
She arched beneath him, heat surging low in her belly.
"You are not docile," he murmured. "You are not weak."
He kissed lower ,breasts, ribs, belly.
"You are mine."
They came together,bodies entwined, heat rising, breath ragged.
He moved inside her with slow, devastating skill,each thrust a claim, each touch a vow.
Lora cried out ,clutching him close, nails raking down his back.
Her powers stirred,faint threads of silver heat curling beneath her skin.
A wave of energy crested,building, burning.
Until release shattered through her like lightning.
After, he held her close in the tangled sheets,forehead pressed to hers.
"You remember pieces," he murmured. "More will come."
She shuddered. "I don't know what's real anymore."
He kissed her gently. "I will show you."
---
But in the dark outside their chamber,another figure watched.
A traitor from virel castle, The one who stole Loras baby. The only one who knows were lora's child is. Stood tall with eyes gleaming.
A secret message is already flying to the Crimson Court:
"Virel's bride remembers more than she admits. She is waking."
---