Ava Galliano: The Last Dark Queen

Unknown Feelings

Sleep did not come easily for Isa. No matter how she turned, her bed felt like a bed of rocks. After spending seasons on a thin cot, anything softer seemed a strange luxury. The cold stone floor of the cell had been her constant companion for so long that her body rejected the comfort of the new bed.

By the time the sun rose, Isa had only managed a few hours of restless, fitful sleep. She sighed, throwing the covers aside and allowing the maids to bathe and dress her, their soft hands brushing over her skin as if she were a delicate doll. It had been a long while since she had felt human contact that wasn’t tainted by the cruelty of her captivity.

Slipping silently down the stairs, Isa sought solace in a reading nook by the window. The sun beckoned to her, but she kept her distance, choosing instead to sit in the quiet space, hoping to lose herself in the words of a book. Hours passed unnoticed until midday, when she moved to another nook on the opposite side of the house. She craved the warmth of the sun, but more than that, she needed the sense of freedom it gave her.

Just as she was making herself comfortable, the door to the room burst open with force. Marcus stood in the doorway, his expression frantic and disheveled.

"Good morning, your majesty," Isa greeted him dryly, raising an eyebrow as she took in his unkempt appearance.

"Where have you been?" Marcus demanded, his voice tinged with irritation.

Isa shrugged nonchalantly. "You needn't worry yourself about me. You have maids, do you not?"

Marcus slumped down into a chair opposite her. Isa’s eyes narrowed as she studied him—his face was drawn, and his posture suggested exhaustion. It seemed the king had been roused from his sleep in a fit of worry after the maids told him they had not seen her since she was dressed. In his panic, he had neglected his own appearance, rushing down without a second thought.

“I apologize,” he muttered, rubbing his temples as though the weight of his actions had finally caught up to him.

“For what?” Isa asked, genuinely puzzled.

“For yesterday,” he said, sighing deeply. “It’s been a long time since someone dared to yell and defy me. I was being a brat, and for that, I apologize.”

Isa blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. “We all have rules to follow, Marcus. It's not like I can just throw years of hard work out the window for the sake of defiance.”

Marcus fell silent, his gaze dropping to the floor. After a long moment, he spoke again, his tone much softer. "Have you notified my father?"

Isa’s stomach fluttered, unease creeping in. “A letter left last night. We should hear from him soon enough.”

"Good. Now go back to sleep." Isa glanced at him skeptically. "I will not clean up your ashy corpse when the afternoon sun passes through this room."

A laugh escaped Marcus, a rare sound that startled Isa. She blinked in confusion as he leaned back in his chair, a slow chuckle vibrating through his chest. Isa choked on the tea she was sipping as their eyes met—a flash of royal blue clashing with her fiery gaze. She set the glass down carefully, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“How is this possible?” Isa asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus looked at her with a wry smile. “Did you honestly think you were the only day-walker out there?”

Isa furrowed her brow, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Well, apart from my father, yes. What are you?”

“We are the same,” Marcus replied with surprising bluntness. "I thought you would have felt that by now."

Isa stood, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest. She had always felt an inexplicable pull toward him since their first meeting, but she hadn’t understood it. Now it all clicked—his strange behavior, the magnetic energy between them—it made sense in a way she was not ready to accept. Her mind felt like a tangled web, each revelation only knotting it further.

The next three weeks felt like the slowest of Isa’s life. She spent each day waiting for a letter from her father, wondering why it was taking him so long to come for her. It was maddening, the uncertainty gnawing at her. Meanwhile, Marcus took it upon himself to “reteach” her the royal duties she had once been trained in, hoping it would keep him distracted from his growing urges. Most days, he just watched her, his gaze lingering as she sat by the front entrance, waiting.

Isa didn’t know it, but Marcus had lied to her. The letter hadn’t been sent. The truth was, he had no intention of letting her go. The moment her father arrived, Isa would be whisked away, never to be seen again. To the vampire world, Isa was an urban legend—more myth than reality, a story told to children to keep them in line.

Once, when the first dark queen had ruled, the great king had allowed his daughter to live among his people. But when the queen died, she vanished from sight. It was said she would reappear, lost and confused, as the years wore on. Some even claimed to have met her with her full memories intact. But as she grew more powerful, those moments became rarer. Eventually, she would become too much for the great king to control.

And that was where Isa stood now—on the precipice of something much larger than herself.

"Your highness?" a soft voice broke through Marcus’s reverie. He turned to find Ally standing nearby, her concern evident.

Marcus blinked, refocusing his gaze on the front entrance, only to find Isa had slipped away.

"The princess has been studying in the library for some time now," Ally continued, her voice respectful but laced with curiosity.

"That's good," Marcus said, his voice distracted. “Did you need something, Ally?”

“Just checking in on you, your highness,” she replied with a polite bow. “You’ve been standing here for quite some time.”

“I see,” Marcus said with a sigh. “Can you tell George to head into town? I need a letter posted.”

“As you wish, your highness,” Ally responded with a quick bow, before disappearing down the stairs.

Marcus stood there, silently cursing himself. The time had come. He had tormented himself for far too long. It was time to send Isa home before the situation escalated any further.

He retreated to the library, hoping to find Isa deeply engrossed in her studies, but when he stepped inside, he found something else entirely.

“Is this what you call studying, princess?” Marcus’s loud voice shattered the silence, startling Isa awake from her deep slumber.

Isa scowled, groggily rubbing her eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “You are a royal, Isa. If you want, I can call you ‘your highness.’”

Isa growled, grabbing the nearest book and hurling it at him. Marcus caught it effortlessly, as though it were nothing more than a feather.

“This is boring,” Isa muttered, slumping back in her seat. “Can’t I do something else?”

Marcus sighed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t know what kind of royal duties your father gave you, but here, our children are well-educated when they return home.”

Isa’s face contorted in disgust at his remark. She grabbed another book, this one heavier, and threw it at Marcus with all her strength. This time, it landed squarely on his head.

Marcus’s expression shifted from amusement to something darker. His eyes—now a dangerous shade of red—fixed on her. Isa immediately felt the shift in the air.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice shaky. “I didn’t think…”

Marcus’s voice dropped to a menacing growl. “You better start running, princess.”

Isa’s heart skipped a beat. She scrambled to her feet, fumbling through a pile of books as she bolted toward the door. But Marcus was already there, blocking her escape. She turned on her heel, making for the open window, only to find him standing in front of it.

Fear coursed through her veins as their eyes locked—his deep red, hers burning with the same intensity. Isa backed up into the wall, realizing there was no way out.

“You are by far the worst vampire I have ever met,” Isa muttered, breathless with fear.

Marcus's voice was a low growl. “I can’t help it. I wasn’t taught…”

“This isn’t something you teach another vampire. It’s instinct,” Isa snapped, her frustration giving way to something darker. “You have no idea what kind of power you hold inside you.”

Isa blinked, her mind spinning as Marcus closed the distance between them, his fangs bared. He pressed her into the wall, his body a force of nature. A sudden, overwhelming hunger surged through Isa’s stomach, and she let out a low, feral growl.

Marcus pulled back slightly, sensing the change. The air crackled with tension, but neither of them could look away. Isa’s heart raced as their skins brushed for the briefest moment. A flash of desire and something far darker flickered between them.

Before Isa could comprehend what was happening, she yanked Marcus into a kiss, her body hungry for contact, for control, for release. Marcus groaned, picking her up as though she weighed nothing, his hands gripping her tighter as their bodies collided. Isa wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, losing herself in the moment.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Isa shoved Marcus away, panting heavily. Her eyes were now the same burning orange as his. Tears sprang to her eyes as she fled the room, locking herself in the bathroom.

Marcus stood outside the door, pacing anxiously. Isa could feel his presence, could sense his fear and hunger. She wanted none of it. She had no place for this life, no space for the power that coursed through her veins. She had bigger plans, and she couldn’t afford to be shackled to him.

“Go away, Marcus,” she called through the door, her voice laced with finality. “Do not come near me again, unless it’s news from my father.”

“I understand,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with an emotion Isa couldn’t place.