winding through dark forests and abandoned hamlets, where the scent of fear still lingered in the air. Each s

e survived on the food she had packed-hard bread, dried fruits, and the last remnants of cheese from her mother's kitchen. But a

me the

ed. Their riders were cloaked figures, moving like shadows, their red eyes gleaming even from a distance. Zit

pir

gasps. She had been lucky this time, but the roads were not safe. The

e crept past an abandoned

strong hands grabbed her from behind. A scream tore from her th

idden, little one," a voi

nched. More figures materialized from the darkness, their glowing e

r wrists with iron shackles. The cold metal burned against her skin, making her cry out i

ont of her, tilting her chin up with a gloved hand. He h

he mused. "The prince enjoys

ch twiste

pr

strike to the side of her head sen

.........

ng. The air was thick with the scent of

e damp underground chamber. Dozens of people, humans like her, were huddled together in cages, their eyes ho

rough her. She

rd as she could, but they did not budge. A bitter laugh

mber doors. A hush fell over the captives as a group of vampires strode in, their re

were

t in her throat as

r Ri

r his cruelty, his power unmatched among the Nightborn. Unlike the other vampires, who mere

uded an aura of dominance. His dark hair, barely tamed, framed a face too perfect to belong to a monster.

ction

highest bidder. Zita's stomach churned as she watched the

enter of the room. The auctioneer, a thin, pale man

and full of spirit! A perfec

the bidding could begin, Ammar rai

sing her. Then, with a slow, delib

in

argue. The prince had made his decision

d for survival, but now she wasn't sure

toward Ammar, she forced herself to stand t

face, amusement flickering in his gaze, she rea

ce did not just

ed to b