Prologue

PROLOGUE

Violet

Four Weeks Ago

The tiny particles of dust swirl and twirl in the flickering candlelight as I carefully glide the soft feather duster over another ornate frame. The gilded edges catch the light, reflecting it in a way that would be beautiful if not for the oppressive atmosphere of this place. Each stroke of the duster sends more motes dancing into the air, a constant reminder of the futility of my task. No matter how much I clean, this mansion never seems to lose its layer of neglect.

I can feel Nathaniel's eyes on me, a constant, oppressive presence that makes my skin crawl. He's standing at the bottom of the grand staircase, a leather-bound book held loosely in one pale hand. I know he's not reading it; he hasn't turned a page in over an hour. No, his attention is solely fixed on me, his gaze like a heavy cloak against my skin .

Always watching me.

The thought sends a shudder through my body, one I try desperately to suppress. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affects me. Instead, I focus on the task at hand, allowing the repetitive motion of dusting to lull me into a state of forced calm.

As I work my way along the line of portraits that adorn the staircase, I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched by more than just Nathaniel. Row upon row of stern faces stare down at me, their painted eyes seeming to follow my every move. It's unnerving, to say the least. I find myself avoiding their gazes, focusing instead on the ornate frames that house them.

But as I reach the next portrait, something makes me pause. This one is different from the others, and not just because it depicts a woman instead of another dour-faced man. She's beautiful, with raven-black hair styled in an elaborate updo from a bygone era. Her features are sharp and aristocratic, but it's her eyes that truly catch my attention. Unlike the flat, lifeless stares of the other portraits, hers seem alive. There's an intensity to them, a presence that makes me feel like she's looking right at me.

I find myself staring, transfixed by her gaze. Who was she? What's her connection to Nathaniel? Was she once in my position, trapped in this house, forced to wear ridiculous dresses and clean endlessly? The questions swirl in my mind, momentarily distracting me from my dire situation.

"Move along, dear," Nathaniel's voice cuts through my thoughts, soft but unmistakably commanding.

I jump slightly, realising I've been standing still for too long. Quickly, I move to the next portrait, a fierce-looking man with a thick beard and cold eyes. As I dust his frame, I could swear his painted gaze drops to my chest, lingering on the cleavage this old-fashioned dress forces me to display. I shudder, feeling violated even though I know it's impossible.

It's just a painting, It can't actually look at me.

Right?

But in this house, I'm no longer sure what's possible and what isn't.

"You are far more special than you realise," Nathaniel's whisper reaches my ears, so quiet I'm not sure if he meant for me to hear it or not.

His words send a shudder through me, this one colder than the last. I don't want to be special, not in the way Nathaniel means it. I just want to be me, Violet, the art student with dreams of galleries and a small studio of my own. But I'm realising that ‘me' doesn't exist anymore. There's only this new version of myself, this creature of the night, that I'm still struggling to understand.

As I continue my task, my mind wanders to thoughts of escape. It's a constant presence in the back of my mind, always there no matter how hard Nathaniel tries to make me forget my old life.

For now, I'm trapped in this nightmare. All I can do is endure and hope that, somehow, someday, an opportunity will present itself. Until then, I'll play along with Nathaniel's games, learn what I can about this new world I've been thrust into, and try to stay sane.

As I reach the top of the staircase, I allow myself a moment to look out the large window that dominates the landing. The moon is full tonight, casting an eerie glow over the treetops. For a brief moment, I imagine myself out there, running through the forest, free from Nathaniel's control. But then reality crashes back in. I'm not that girl anymore. I'm a vampire now, and the thought of being alone in the world, with no understanding of what I am or how to control my new nature, is almost as terrifying as staying here with Nathaniel.

"Violet," Nathaniel's voice floats up from below, jolting me out of my thoughts. "Come down now."

I suppress a sigh and begin my descent. I go without protest. For now, it's safer to obey, to let him think he's winning.

As I pass the portrait of the raven-haired woman again, I could swear her expression has changed. There's a sadness in her eyes now, a sympathy that wasn't there before. But when I blink and look again, it's gone.

Just my imagination. But as I join Nathaniel at the bottom of the stairs, I silently vow to be ready. Whatever comes next, I'll face it. I have to. It's the only way I'll ever have a chance at freedom again.