Marked and Claimed
1182 Words
Aria's POV
Pain. A burning, searing pain exploded at the side of my neck, yanking me out of unconsciousness. My eyes snapped open, and I gasped, the sharp sting forcing a cry from my throat.
My limbs were heavy, as though chained by invisible weights. I tried to sit up, but a dizzy wave crushed me back into velvet pillows. The room spun in elegant circles. Red velvet curtains. Marble floors. A chandelier glowing with cold blue light.
This wasn’t the village. This wasn’t the altar. This wasn’t the nightmare I remembered
The blood moon. The vampires. The bite.
I reached for my neck and felt something pulsing beneath my skin. When I touched it, heat flooded my fingertips a glowing symbol, just below my jawline, burned against my flesh. It wasn’t just a wound. It was a mark. A brand.
A blood mark.
“No,” I breathed. “No, no, no”
“You’re awake.”
That voice. I stiffened.
He stood at the edge of the room, draped in black and silver robes, his long frame relaxed but alert. Prince Lucien Virelith. Crimson-eyed heir of the Night Court. The monster who had bitten me.
I scrambled backward on the bed, my fingers trembling. “You bit me.”
“Yes,” he said simply.
My eyes darted toward the door, then the windows, then to anything sharp I could use to defend myself.
“You bonded me.” My voice cracked. “Why? Why me?”
He stepped forward slowly, like one might approach a frightened animal. “Because your blood answered the call.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It will,” he said. “Soon.”
I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust anyone with fangs and glowing eyes. But I needed answers.
“Then explain it,” I snapped. “Start from the beginning. What did you do to me? What is this mark?”
Lucien’s eyes flickered to the blood mark on my neck. “It’s not just a mark. It’s a binding. Your blood called to mine during the Rite of Selection. When I tasted it… it matched.”
“Matched what?”
He looked away, jaw tightening. “A prophecy. A curse.”
My stomach dropped.
Lucien began to pace, slow and controlled. “Hundreds of years ago, our bloodline was cursed. The royal heirs must bind with a soul-compatible bride by the rise of their 300th blood moon or face extinction. Every generation, we search. We test. We taste.” His gaze returned to me. “None have matched. Until you.”
I swallowed hard, heart pounding. “So I’m what? Your cure?”
He didn’t answer.
I stood, my legs unsteady, and forced myself to stay upright. “You had no right.”
“You were offered,” he said coolly. “By your village.”
“They offered me to die. Not to be bound to a vampire prince like some… pet!”
His eyes flashed. “You are not a pet.”
I laughed bitterly. “Oh, of course. I’m a prophecy. A solution. A soul-match.”
Silence stretched between us.
“Aria,” he said, and for the first time, I heard something almost human in his voice. “I didn’t choose this either.”
I turned away, gripping the windowsill. Beyond the glass, black forests stretched toward a blood-red sky. The sun never rose here, only a perpetual twilight.
“My whole life,” I whispered, “I’ve feared creatures like you. Vampires who stole children in the night. Who fed on the helpless. And now I’m in your palace, wearing your mark.”
Lucien didn’t move. “Not all stories are lies. But not all truths are full either.”
I spun back toward him. “What do you want from me?”
He paused. “Time.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I need time,” he said. “To understand what this bond truly is. To ensure your safety. And to prepare the court for what this means.”
I stared. “The court doesn’t know?”
“Not yet.”
A sharp knock interrupted us. A servant entered silent, head bowed and placed a tray of food on a small table. Fruits. Bread. A silver goblet.
My stomach growled traitorously, but I didn’t move.
“Eat,” Lucien said. “You’ll need your strength.”
“For what?” I snapped.
“For surviving your first day as the Bound Bride.”
The moment he left, I collapsed onto the bed and buried my face in my hands.
Bound Bride.
I wanted to scream. To cry. To rip the mark from my skin and wake up in my old bed, with my old life. But that life was gone.
I was no longer just Aria Blake. I was something else now. Something the vampires feared… or worshipped.
Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them back.
I wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not in his palace.
Instead, I looked down at the mark, still pulsing faintly on my neck. A cruel reminder that nothing would ever be the same again.
And beneath my fear, my anger… something stirred. A flicker. A pull. As if something inside me recognized this bond. As if I wasn’t just reacting to magic but awakening to it.
But I didn’t want to awaken. I wanted to escape.
The days that followed passed in uneasy silence. I was given clothes, meals, and a massive chamber overlooking the court. No chains. No guards. But also… no freedom.
Lucien kept his distance. We spoke little only when necessary and even then, the air between us was taut with unspoken questions.
I was watched. I knew it. Sometimes, I caught shadows shifting behind doors. Once, I even heard voices whispering from the corridor.
“She’s the one…”
“The mark glows…”
“Do you think it’s real?”
One night, I found a book on vampire history in my chamber. The pages were old and worn, written in both common tongue and vampire script. I devoured every word, desperate for something anything to help me understand what I’d become.
One passage stood out:
“A true blood-bound union is rare and dangerous. When fates entwine, power stirs. The chosen bride will awaken not just her partner’s strength… but her own.”
Her own.
Could that explain the dreams?
Every night since the binding, I’d been plagued by strange visions golden-eyed queens, burning temples, and voices calling my name through fire. I saw a crown of obsidian. A dagger of bone. And always, always, the mark on my neck glowing like moonlight.
One dream ended with me standing on a throne of ash, Lucien kneeling before me, eyes closed, saying:
"The flame has returned. And with it, the curse ends."
I always woke up shaking.
Was it madness? Or memory?
I didn’t know. But I was going to find out.
Even if I had to tear this entire palace down to get the truth.
- Writer
