Vampire's Bride: Sold To The Dark Lord

Elara

No one should have to plan their own suicide before reaching adulthood.

I did.

That night would be the longest night of the year, and it would also mark my birthday.

I had never dreaded the arrival of a day like I dreaded this one.

For as long as I could remember, I had been warned about my terrible fate-the one that awaited all firstborns in this new society.

"Elara!" My mother's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Dinner is ready!"

I looked at my reflection one last time before getting up from the vanity and heading down the rickety stairs to the living room, where my family was waiting for me.

The staircase was lit by a half-melted candle resting in a wall sconce. Ever since their arrival, progress had stopped. We had been condemned to live their way. Damn nostalgics with an aversion to technology.

All I knew about the "advanced world" was what I'd managed to read in old books or see in photographs that were already beginning to fade and crack. We had spent over a century going backward in time, adapting to their way of life: we traveled by carriage, wore pompous and uncomfortable clothes, and communicated by letter.

I was born when computers, cell phones, and gasoline-powered cars were already just memories in the minds of the elders.

I stepped onto the bottom stair, which creaked under my weight, and found my whole family gathered around the table.

My mother served soup with a ladle, filling the bowls with a warm smile, because being able to offer us a meal like this wasn't a common occurrence. We weren't a rich family, not even middle class.

"Sit down, honey, before it gets cold."

I took my seat next to my seven-year-old sister, Abigail, a little girl with copper-toned curls and honey-colored eyes. She smiled at me, showing off the little gap between her teeth.

"Don't be nervous. Maybe they won't pick you."

My father's voice was sweet, just like he was. Sometimes I thought he was only like this with me because I had been marked from birth.

Being the firstborn marked me and condemned me to a miserable fate. A fate where I was seen as a mere food source for those cold, sadistic, soulless beings.

"I'm not nervous," I lied. "I've spent eighteen years preparing for this."

I knew the smile didn't reach my eyes, although I tried to convey as much calm as possible.

This wasn't easy for them-how could it be for any parent? In a few hours, it would be my eighteenth birthday, and in just a few days, there would be a full moon, which meant entering The Crimson Auction.

If you were lucky, maybe no one would buy you, but clinging to that hope was foolish.

We were products. We were just blood. In the end, they would buy us anyway, whether you were attractive, bony, or sickly. Sooner or later, someone would be willing to feed on you.

"To be exact, it's been seventeen years and three hundred and sixty-four days," my brother chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't ask me to be more precise with hours, minutes, and seconds, because I might fail at that."

I rolled my eyes; it was typical of him to resort to silly humor when situations overwhelmed him.

Silvano, whom everyone called Silas, was my younger brother by ten months, but he insisted on acting as if he were older than me.

He had a broad, stocky build, straw-gold hair, and honey-colored eyes like Abigail's. Mine were gray, empty, colorless.

Everything about me seemed to lack shine, from my eyes to the dark tone of my hair.

I picked up my spoon and tasted a little of the soup. My mother's gaze was on me, waiting for me to say something or react in some way. I smiled at her, and she seemed to relax in her seat.

Her hair was the same color as my brother's, slightly graying and tied in a low bun at the nape of her neck. And although her gaze was the sweetest I had ever seen, it was also the saddest.

"It's delicious, Mom."

I forced myself to keep eating, although my stomach was tied in knots from nerves.

I was a terrible daughter and sister for what I planned to do tonight. Surely they wouldn't be proud to have raised such a selfish daughter, one willing to end her own life out of fear of living it to her last breath alongside those insatiable and sinful creatures.

"So, you said you and Lea were going for a walk near the lake..." my father said. "You know you shouldn't come back late. It's getting dark. No matter what they promise, they are dangerous."

"I know, Dad. Don't worry, we'll be fine."

He stroked his scruffy beard with his fingers while examining me.

Did he know my true intentions? Were they written all over my face?

Finally, he turned his attention back to his bowl.

"Can I go?" Abigail asked. "Please, pretty please..."

"No," we all answered at the same time.

Abigail pouted and went back to her soup.

The mood was tenser than expected; it shouldn't have been like this, but the threat hung in the air, and no one was willing to ignore it. In four days, I would leave this house-most likely for the rest of my life.

I didn't leave a single drop in my bowl before getting up. I looked at my whole family, engraving them into my memory.

I wished I could tell Silas that I hoped he would one day forgive me for the price my death would cost him, for the way it would condemn him.

I wished I could explain that I had lived in fear for many years and I couldn't take it anymore. That death seemed like a walk in the park compared to the fate life had in store for me.

I did none of that. I just smiled at them one last time, ran to my room, and grabbed a fur-lined cloak Lea had given me years ago. I had kept it in pristine condition, as it was one of the few valuable things I owned.

After a few minutes, I slipped out the door under everyone's gaze. The cold air kissed my cheeks, and although the first snow hadn't arrived yet, I feared it wouldn't be long.

I followed the path to Lea's house, a few streets away from mine. The last workers walked the streets, eager to take refuge in the warmth of their homes. Some women were finishing gathering the clothes they'd hung out that morning, and shopkeepers were closing up their establishments.

Lea was right at the entrance of the small path to her house, waiting for me, all huddled in her cloak, her nose red from the cold. She smiled, and even without meaning to, it was a sad smile. Her orange hair framed her face.

"Elara!" She ran a few steps toward me. "I thought you weren't coming!"

"Sorry, I'm a little late." I linked my arm through hers, and we started walking through the dirty streets of the village. "How is the family?"

"Same as always. Mom still waits for Sophie's letters every week, but it's been two weeks since the last one."

"The roads are bad, the mail hasn't been arriving frequently lately," I tried to reassure her.

Sophie was Lea's older sister. A year ago, she entered The Crimson Auction and was bought.

Not everyone was lucky enough to have owners who allowed them to keep in touch with their family. Most were torn away completely, considered dead to the world.

Sophie was lucky to have been bought by someone who didn't care about anything other than having a midnight snack.

The lack of letters could just be a coincidence or, in the worst case...

"Mom is going to get sick if this continues, and Dad has been working too much. I think they are starting to fear the worst, and I... I don't know how to feel."

"I'm sure she's just a little delayed. Don't lose hope." I stroked her hand with mine, giving it gentle pats. "How are your latest readings going?"

I tried to distract her by talking about those huge books that spoke of the world from before.

Lea was a curious girl; ever since she learned to read, she loved scouring the stalls of the small market in search of books that detailed how life used to be.

I loved that about her-I liked sitting by the lake and listening to her chatter for hours about how people our age used to interact, or about the fashion back then, which was so changeable, fleeting, and much more comfortable than today's.

We arrived at the lake, walking arm in arm, and I ended up getting lost while staring at the water.

Lea was lucky. Her sister's sacrifice meant that the family's Libris was sealed.

Once sealed, the family was considered to have paid their dues in full.

Parents handed over their firstborn, and in return, received the absolute certainty that they wouldn't lose any more children, along with a small pouch of coins to feed themselves for a year. A miserable pittance in exchange for losing a child forever.

"Are you listening to me?"

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts.

"Sorry." I smiled, embarrassed. "What were you saying?"

"Don't worry." That sad smile again. "I'm sure you have a lot on your mind. I was saying that yesterday, during the walk with Mom, Felippo, the baker's son, stopped to talk with us for a while. He couldn't stop looking at me, maybe..."

"Maybe...?"

Her cheeks flushed.

"Do you like Felippo?"

She tried to ignore me, looking at anything but me. Even so, I didn't give up and started nudging her side, forcing her to face me amidst laughter.

"Don't be silly, Felippo is too..."

"Too what?"

"Too proper."

"Too proper?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're the most straight-laced person I know."

She let go of my arm and started walking backward, spinning slowly as she spoke.

"Yes, that's why I want someone rebellious, adventurous, someone who makes me feel alive. I don't want something traditional and typical-I want someone who pushes me to do new things."

"You just want to give your parents a heart attack," I teased.