Fated to the Vampire Prince

Chapter 3

The months had passed in a blur, a kaleidoscope of moments that were both too vivid and too blurred to hold onto. The seasons changed outside the walls of Château Corbin, but inside, it felt as though time had warped into something unrecognizable. The grand halls, once a place of intrigue and whispered secrets, had become a gilded prison, adorned in the finest silks and precious jewels. The chandeliers cast long shadows over the ballroom, a reminder of the eternal night that surrounded them.

Claire no longer recognized the girl who had first walked into this place. She had been strong, determined, a sister to protect, a witch with a mission. Now, she was something else—something softer, something broken. The darkness inside her had grown, fed by the relentless pull of Bastien’s presence, his touch, his voice. It whispered to her in moments of stillness, making her forget the girl she once was, replacing that self with something new. Something that belonged to him.

Her nights were a blur of silken sheets and velvet whispers, of kisses that tasted of blood and promises, of hands that touched her with both tenderness and ownership. Bastien had claimed her, body and soul, in ways she hadn’t thought possible. He had taken everything—her will, her freedom—and yet, he had given her something in return: a world that glittered with opulence and danger. She had learned to crave it, even as it consumed her.

But it wasn’t just Bastien now.

There were others, too.

Claire’s gaze lingered on the woman standing across the room, an ethereal figure draped in midnight blue velvet, her black hair cascading in waves down her back like a river of shadows. Lady Elowen was a vampire, one of Bastien’s closest allies, and she watched Claire with the same predatory gaze that Bastien often wore, though hers was colder, calculating. There were rumors about Elowen—about her thirst for power, her dark ambitions—but in the months Claire had been here, she had learned to ignore them, to focus only on what was in front of her.

It was hard to tell who was more dangerous: Bastien, with his slow, seductive torment, or Elowen, with her calculating mind and chilling beauty. They were both forces in their own right—forces that Claire had allowed herself to fall into.

Bastien appeared behind her, like a shadow moving in and out of the light. His hands brushed her shoulder, a familiar touch, but his eyes were cold as they locked onto Elowen. The vampire prince had changed, too. He no longer wore the guise of the charming, aloof monarch; now, there was something darker in his eyes, something possessive, as though he believed Claire had become his possession.

"Have you seen how she watches you?" Bastien’s voice was a low growl in her ear, his words filled with quiet menace. "She knows what you are now. What you belong to."

Claire’s heart skipped a beat. She turned to face him, her chest tight. "What do you mean? I belong to no one but myself."

Bastien’s eyes darkened, and his lips curled into a smile that was both terrifying and intoxicating. "You belong to me, Claire. Whether you admit it or not." His fingers brushed her cheek, and for a moment, Claire felt herself melting beneath his touch.

Lady Elowen’s gaze never wavered, her smile like the sharp edge of a blade. It was a smile Claire had seen before—a smile of someone who didn’t trust her. Didn’t like her. And that distrust felt palpable in the air between them.

"How are you feeling, my dear Claire?" Elowen’s voice was like silk and poison, dripping with honeyed malice. She stepped closer, her presence filling the room, as if she owned it. "I do hope Bastien has been treating you well. He can be... demanding."

Claire’s stomach tightened. There was something about Elowen that made her skin crawl, but she kept her expression neutral. "I’m fine," she said, though the lie hung between them like smoke. She wasn’t fine. Not anymore.

Bastien placed a possessive hand on Claire’s back, a clear sign to Elowen that Claire was his. The vampire prince’s touch was gentle, but there was something in the way his fingers pressed into her spine that sent a chill through her.

"She's perfect," Bastien said, his voice smooth but with an edge of something darker. "She’s everything I ever wanted. More than I expected."

Elowen’s smile tightened, her eyes narrowing in on Claire. "Is that so?" she murmured. "I wonder, Bastien, how long you’ll be able to keep her."

Claire’s heart skipped. There was something behind Elowen’s words—something sharp, a warning that made the air crackle with tension. She couldn’t ignore it, no matter how much she wanted to.

"She's perfect," Bastien said, his voice smooth but with an edge of something darker. "She’s everything I ever wanted. More than I expected."

Elowen’s smile tightened, her eyes narrowing in on Claire. "Is that so?" she murmured. "I wonder, Bastien, how long you’ll be able to keep her."

Claire’s heart skipped. There was something behind Elowen’s words—something sharp, a warning that made the air crackle with tension. She couldn’t ignore it, no matter how much she wanted to.

Bastien’s gaze flickered toward Elowen, his posture shifting slightly. "She’s mine, Elowen. You will not challenge that."

The tension between the two vampires crackled, like a storm on the horizon. Claire stood in the center of it, caught between them, feeling like a fragile thread in the wind, unable to decide whether to snap or hold on.

"Then why is it," Elowen said softly, her voice carrying an edge of amusement, "that she looks at me the way she does?"

Claire froze. She hadn’t meant to, but she had been staring at Elowen, studying her as though trying to understand what she was. The woman was beautiful, impossibly so, with her cold elegance and regal presence. She was everything Claire was not, and a part of her felt drawn to that power, that command. But at the same time, there was a part of Claire that hated it, that resented the way Elowen made her feel small, insignificant.

"I don’t know what you mean," Claire said, though her voice was shaky. She cursed herself inwardly. She couldn’t let them see her uncertainty.

Bastien’s grip on her shoulder tightened, his fingers biting into her skin. "She’s playing games," he muttered, but there was a flicker of something dark in his eyes—something possessive, something that hinted at jealousy. "Do not forget your place, Claire."

The words stung, but Claire knew they weren’t just for Elowen. They were meant for her. To remind her that she was his. His to protect, his to keep. She was nothing more than a plaything in his world now. And as much as she wanted to fight it, as much as she wanted to scream and break free, she was bound to him. And so, she stayed silent.

The music began to play, a haunting melody that filled the ballroom with a strange melancholy. Claire felt the weight of her own reflection in the mirrors that lined the room. The woman staring back at her was so far removed from the girl she had once been—so far from the witch who had come to learn the vampire prince’s secrets. Now, she was trapped in this world, living a life she had never imagined for herself.

And yet… part of her didn’t want to leave.The beauty, the power, the luxury of it all—it was intoxicating. But there was something deeper, something darker, that Claire couldn’t ignore. It was the way Bastien’s gaze followed her every move, the way Elowen’s smile never reached her eyes, the way Claire had become a pawn in a game much larger than herself.

This was a world of glamour, of wealth and beauty, of eternal nights that stretched into infinity. But it was also a world of lies, of betrayal, and of love twisted into something unrecognizable.

And Claire was beginning to understand the terrible truth:

In this world, love came with a price.

And she was paying it.