The Vampire King's Bloodbound Bride

Elena’s POV They always stared at me. Not because they liked me — because they didn’t understand me. Hair like moonlight, eyes too pale, skin too cold. I looked like something that shouldn’t exist under the sun. Some called me blessed. Most called me cursed. When my adoptive parents died, the whispers grew louder. She killed them. She’s bad luck. She’s not one of us. I stopped fighting the words. It was easier to let them believe what they wanted. So when the King’s soldiers arrived that morning — black armor, pale faces, riding horses that didn’t breathe — I already knew who the village would offer. > “The tribute,” the lead soldier said, his voice echoing through the square. The village elder stepped forward, hands trembling. “We—we have a girl. Unique. Unspoiled.” Everyone turned to me. I didn’t beg. I didn’t cry. What was there to hold onto? No one would miss me. The soldier’s gaze swept over me — assessing, cold. “Bring her.” Two men grabbed my arms, dragging me forward. The crowd didn’t move. Some looked away. Others watched, relieved it wasn’t them this time. The elder pressed something into the soldier’s hands — a pouch of coins, or maybe a prayer. “May this offering please the King.” The soldier smiled faintly. “The King is rarely pleased.” --- The journey was long, days blurred into nights. We traveled through forests that never saw daylight, past ruined villages and rivers that shimmered faintly red under the moon. The vampires didn’t talk. They didn’t eat. They didn’t sleep. Just silence and the sound of hooves on broken stone. I stopped asking where we were. When the palace gates appeared — tall and black as a nightmare — my breath caught. It wasn’t a castle; it was a shadow pretending to be one. Towers like claws, walls that seemed to drink in the light. They pushed me through massive doors into a hall lined with silver lanterns and stone statues that looked almost human. The air smelled like roses and iron. A woman waited there — pale, elegant, and not human. Her eyes were gold, not red. A vampire, but different. > “Another offering?” she asked the guards, her tone flat. > “From the southern village,” one of them replied. “They said she’s… unusual.” Her gaze swept over me, sharp and curious. “Silver hair,” she murmured. “How rare.” I dropped my eyes to the floor. > “The King will be informed,” she said finally. “For now, take her to the maids’ quarters. Have her washed and clothed.” > “She’s not to be fed on,” another guard added quickly. > “Obviously.” The woman gave him a cold smile. “The King hates when his gifts arrive half-dead.” They led me through endless corridors — walls of black marble, soft light glowing from glass globes that floated above. Everywhere I looked, people moved in silence — humans dressed in simple grey uniforms, their eyes hollow. Servants. Offerings who survived long enough to serve. We stopped before a heavy wooden door. A maid opened it from the inside — a girl about my age, human, with tired eyes and a quiet smile. > “A new one?” she asked. > “Keep her here,” the vampire woman said. “She’ll serve in the west wing until further notice.” The door shut behind them, and suddenly the world felt small again. The room was crowded — bunks stacked high, the air thick with candle wax and soap. A few girls looked up, curiosity flickering across their faces before fading back into exhaustion. The maid who’d opened the door handed me a folded cloth. “Uniform. Bath’s through there.” I nodded. My voice didn’t want to work. > “You’re lucky,” she said softly as I turned away. “They don’t usually send our kind to serve in the palace. Most tributes don’t make it this far.” I didn’t ask what she meant by our kind. I didn’t want to know. Later, after washing off the dust and blood, I sat by the small window in my new clothes — a grey dress too thin for the cold. The moonlight spilled over the floor, pale and silver, the same color as my hair. Somewhere deep in the palace, bells chimed — slow, haunting, like a heartbeat in stone. Every girl froze. One whispered, “That’s the royal summons.” I didn’t ask who it was for. But when the sound faded, I could still feel the weight of unseen eyes — watching, waiting, from somewhere far above. ---