Forbidden: Ritual Of The Vampire Prince

***Yara*** The dark drowned me, my screams echoing against the walls of an abyss where no light could reach. I fought against the silence, the oppressive weight of despair crushing my chest, rendering every breath an agonizing labor. My heart raced, pounding in my ears like a war drum, the insistent rhythm reminding me of my frailty. I tried to call upon the strength of my wolf, the power I could barely grasp, but the frustration of three short weeks of training was merely a flickering spark against the overwhelming darkness. I was trapped. The last thing I remembered was the flash of Michael's eyes—vampire prince, deadly creature of the dark—and the cruel smirk that twisted his lips as he tossed me into this dank prison. The world above had faded, swallowed by despair, leaving only the hollow thrum of my panic to fill the void. I thrashed against the confines of my coffin, the deep, damp wood closing in around me, splintering my hope. What was once a vibrant universe, full of color and light, was reduced to a suffocating sense of isolation. How long had I been here? Time ceased to exist in this tomb. Minutes blurred into hours, and a pervasive sense of dread crept in, whispering sinister thoughts into my mind. Would Zander come for me? Did he even know where I was? My mate, the man whose bite had irrevocably changed my life, had promised to protect me. But what good was promise in the clutches of a monster like Michael? A dark shroud fell over the thoughts of my wolf, I heard her but I couldn’t shift. Her whimpering reacting one word over and over; mate. I kicked at the coffin lid, a feeble act of rebellion. The wood creaked with defiance, and panic surged through me as I grappled with the confines that restrained me. “Let me out! Please!” My voice came out as a choked cry, my throat raw from the desperate pleas that had fallen on deaf ears. The stench of damp earth and something far more sinister filled my nostrils, suffocating the remnants of my courage. I tucked my knees to my chest, curling into myself as despair settled in, washing over me in cold waves. In the depths of this nightmare, I spiraled into memories—hazy recollections of that fateful night, the moment when my life pivoted. I had been walking, leaving a party after a fight between brother and I caught in the middle of it. I was a lost nineteen-year-old in a world I thought I had finally understood. But then, a he had emerged, a fierce presence that was both terrifying yet comforting. The moment I was bitten by Zander changed everything. It even opened doors to a world I only knew from story books and thus inviting Micheal in. Michael, with his raven hair and piercing gaze, had appeared out of nowhere, ensnaring my fate within a heartbeat. I had wanted to believe in my mate, to trust the smile that lured me closer, but that trust had been shattered with the swift cruelty of his betrayal. Of knowing he had bit me and yet this mate bond pulled me towards him even when I had found out the truth. The memory of Micheal’s icy laughter echoed in my ears, a sinister lullaby meant to lull me into complacency. I remembered the assembled vampires surrounding us, their eyes glinting with a predatory hunger that made every hair on my body stand on end. I had been warned—warnings and tales of danger that now felt feeble against the reality of the creature in the flesh that danced behind closed eyelids as I flailed in my coffin. I had drifted in and out of sleep that I woke up screaming every time. Then his hand had reached for me, brushing against my skin, and I thought for a fleeting second that Zander had come and he would save me. But instead, he had plunged me into the darkness—this cursed, constricting prison. Michels last words had sliced through the air, slicing into my flesh more deeply than the bite that had transformed me into a wolf. "I'II see you on the other side, pet, unless of course I'm wrong." What is the other side of death? I gasped, the fight surging within me. “This is a dream, I’ll wake up safe in my apartment” The boldness of my words felt fragile, like a bubble that could burst at any moment, but I clung to it. I had to believe I was more than just prey. With another desperate kick, I felt the wood creak in my response. The sound vibrated through me, igniting a flicker of hope that perhaps I could breach the darkness. I strained against the narrow confines, feeling the excruciating pressure around me. I clawed at the wood, nails raking against its surface, desperate for a clawing to freedom, to shred my bonds, to escape. But the coffin didn’t budge. Panic razed through me. I pounded on the lid, my fists slamming against it. “Help me!” My cries mingled with the echoes of a thousand forgotten souls, becoming one with the shadows. Suddenly, I was back in that moment—when I had encountered Michael at the edge of a clearing, surrounded by the shimmer of moonlight where the world held onto secrets and I had been blissfully unaware. Tension had hung thick between us, charged with an intensity that was almost palpable. “Yara,” Gina’s voice sounded far but near at the same time. I could hear her voice calling my name but I was trapped in a box and I was alone. My breath caught as I recalled the intense flash in Micheal’s gaze, the look of victory and contempt when he tossed me into the coffin, sealing me in a world of my own nightmares. “See you on the other side,” Michael had taunted, the echo of his laughter echoing in the casket, making my flesh crawl even now. The sound of dirt hitting the wood was loud enough that it competed with my ragged breathing. I refused to be a pawn in his or anyone’s game any longer. But here, in this oppressive tomb, my resolve began to falter. My mind whirled with questions—what did he mean, that my family was the reason I had survived the bite? Out of the suffocating silence, I suddenly heard something different—a voice, low and silky, weaving through the air as if it could pull me from the depths of despair. It was familiar, I know that voice. “Yara,” it called, deep and alluring, making my heart race with a mixture of fear and longing. It was Flynn’s voice. “Help me!” I screamed again, but i wasn’t sure if I had said the words loud enough. My lips moved, I felt them but I was sure that the darkness had swallowed my words. It twisted and pulled me back into the depths, drowning me in despair once more. My breath quickened as memories of Flynn’s white hair entered my vision as he looked down at me eyes wide. My eyes closed and I found myself back in the dark, back in the box and a silent scream leaving my mouth. “Yara!” I was shook as a gasp left my lips. I sat up drenched in sweat as my heart beat menacingly. “Yara, are you okay?” Gina said, seated on the bed next to me. “Where am I?” I asked. “In your apartment, in your bed.” She answered. “Is this a dream?” I asked looking around my apartment frantically. “No,” she began, “ you were screaming in your dreams, again.” I was expecting the to wake any moment and find myself back in the coffin. Until I saw Flynn standing in the doorway, hesitant to come near. “Flynn.” I said his name. “What happened.” “I don’t know Yara.” Flynn said slowly stepping forward. “I was passing by the forest and hear a voice screaming. When I followed it I saw you, asking for help.” “Why was you in the forest Yara?” Gina asked. “How long had I been gone?” I ignored her question, she looked at me confused. “How long has it been since the ball?” “Almost two days.” She answered. Shocked filled every fiber in my body. Two days and I felt like it had been an eternity. “You texted Zander you’re coming back to your apartment and would see him in a few days. He didn’t like it but Milo told him that you have plans with us.” She explained and I could for the life of me recall ever texting that. “You didn’t come back here?” Flynn asked, I looked at him. “I don’t know.” I said barely a whisper. I was confused and convinced that I had a nightmare of Micheal and that was all to it. “Yara do you remember going to the forest?” Flynn asked, more serious then I ever heard him. I shook my head. “What do you remember?” Gina asked. “I..I..” I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t know if I could trust anyone after everything. “I don’t remember.” I say. It was partly the truth. I didn’t even know how I had gotten out. If Flynn found me in the middle of the forest. Then how did I get out? Who had gotten me out?