The Vampire Princess

Sarah’s POV

Andrew Ravencraft, heir to the Stormviel Pack, was once a boy I adored as a young girl. Seven years older than me, he was my protector and my friend after his parents adopted me as a war orphan. But that all changed the day his mother died and his stepsister was injured. He believed it was because of me and despised me for it.

Every month, I was forced to give his stepsister 700ml of my blood. He was angry enough not to care if it killed me.

Because I was a vampire.

“Replace the bag with a new one,” Andrew ordered the doctor coldly. “She’s a vampire and won't die; losing a little blood doesn't matter.”

After years of torment, I didn’t care for him anymore. I was numb to any hope of seeing the person he once was. Caring for others only brought me pain and pulled me deeper into despair because of the life I now lived.

Brown leather straps bound me to the operating table. I didn’t resist as the skillful doctor punctured my veins in the same spot as last month. Long-term malnutrition made it impossible for my wounds to heal properly or for me to waste energy.

My arms were covered in countless scars. I didn’t look at the doctor, only the thick black blood bag.

As the blood drained from my body, I felt colder and colder as if a winter storm rolled through my veins, scraping them with shards of ice. Andrew didn't stop the doctor from taking more blood than was needed.

Andrew undid the straps. Anger surged in me. Roughly dragged off the table, I yanked my shoulder back, causing Andrew to pivot forward. I snapped my jaw at his neck. He seized my chin painfully and looked at me with cold, dark brown eyes―eyes so dark it was like peering into the depths of hell.

“This is your atonement for Margaret.” He gripped my chin tighter, lifting it higher, causing my neck to ache. “You caused her death, and the suffering of Madison.”

Ten years ago, I was a wandering orphan with no memory of my past. Found on a battlefield. I was taken in by Andrew's mother, Margaret, a kind Luna. Andrew, the Alpha's son and future heir to the pack, had once cared for me like an older brother.

Madison, Andrew's so-called sister, was also a child taken in by Margaret. At one point, we were close, like real sisters. But everything changed when Madison invited me to play in the forest, where we encountered a group of cruel vampires.

Margaret, upon discovering the vampires’ presence, shifted to protect us, but was tortured and killed by them, her blood drained. Madison was severely injured. Only I was left unharmed because I was discovered to be a vampire, which caused them to spare me.

When the others arrived and drove the vampires away, Madison cried out, accusing me of being a vampire, claiming it was because of me that the vampires had come and killed Margaret, leaving her severely wounded.

I tried to explain, but no one believed me. They blamed Margaret's death on me and took out their hatred for the vampires on me.

From that moment on, I became the lowest slave in the pack, with everyone free to torment me. Finding diabolical ways to make my life miserable.

Madison never fully recovered from the vampires’ attack. As a vampire, my blood held healing properties, which made Andrew think my blood could help Madison.

That idea began the monthly blood treatment for Madison’s wounds. But since I was only allowed to drink rat blood, suffering from hunger, my body became weak, and the wounds on my body wouldn't heal.

I wouldn’t accept the baseless accusation from this man. “I didn’t do anything to hurt them. It was the vampires. If I weren’t a vampire. I would have been killed too. I’m innocent.”

“You’re a shameful liar, still trying to shift the blame onto others.” Andrew tossed me aside. “Take her to the dungeon and leave no food or water,” he ordered a subordinate.

Two days later, a small thud sounded at my feet. Tucked into the far corner, I peered down. A large fat man at the door had thrown a dead rat at me.

“You only deserve rats.”

I locked eyes with him, lifted the rat to my lips, punched out my fangs, and sank them into the rat. The man took a step back, appalled.

When he left, I threw the carcass aside. The rat's blood was barely enough to fight away the hunger pains. I was just a target of the werewolves' anger, enduring their wrath.

Two more days passed with no dead rats to drink. I curled myself into a tight ball in the corner, fighting the gnawing in my gut. I smelled fresh, clean blood before I heard the sound of footsteps. I pulled myself from the corner and scented the air. My mouth watered, and the pain in my stomach grew stronger. The grumble was so loud that a prisoner from the cell next to me turned and looked over his shoulder. His blood was poisoned with disease. He smelled awful.

By the time the footsteps stopped at my cell door, I was rising toward the heavenly smell—it was the Head Omega, Avery. She managed the omegas' daily chores of cooking and cleaning.

Standing on weak, shaky legs, I pressed my lips. I couldn't drink from her; that would lead to a severe punishment, and I didn’t know if I could recover from another one of those.

The thought of being tied to the whipping post behind the servant quarters helped me suppress my hunger to drink from her.

The Head Omega said in her deep, unfriendly voice. “Your confinement has been lifted, and you are to help prepare for tonight's mate ball immediately.” The woman’s round face was red as if the journey here had been too much for her. She held the keys in her hand and unlocked the door.

I bowed slightly and followed Avery out to help. However, I didn’t get close to her, afraid of doing something stupid. But the Omega's strong heartbeat kept pounding in my ears, tempting me. My heart started to beat faster, and I bit my lip. I had to fight the hunger.

It took me a full minute of not breathing before I managed to resist the urge to lunge and bite the Omega’s thick neck. The scent of her blood was intoxicating. I had a hard time paying attention to where we were going, having bumped into two tables and nearly broken a vase.

Avery stopped in front of the ballroom doors. “I want this entire place shining by the time I come back.” She gave me a view of her back as she walked away. I was glad to have her gone. Maybe I could focus on my task now without hunger pains.

I found a bucket full of soapy water, a broom, and a rag in the corner of the ballroom. I went to work, starting with sweeping the wood floors. The ballroom was as large as the courtyard with the red roses to the east. The ceilings were nearly forty feet high with intricate molding curling into leaves. Three elegant chandeliers dropped from the roof in four sweeping steps, candles ready to be lit. Yards of fabric were draped along the walls in golds and pale blues.

While I swept, omegas went in and out, preparing food, flowers, and decorations for the event. They didn’t stop to go around where I was working. They would march right over my wet floor and laugh. A few did it for fun, marching in circles, kicking the water up at me with their feet.

I never said anything; it was pointless, and it only made them do it again when I did say something. I sighed, stomach grumbling. I started again.

People chattered away about the mate ball. “This will be the grandest mate ball the pack has held in years,” said a short woman from the kitchen.

Another holding beautiful blue flowers chimed in next to the short woman. “Because Andrew, the Alpha’s son, is 25 now and hasn’t found his mate.”