"The Night of the Unspoken Vow"

Night fell like a thick shroud of darkness, suffocating even the whispers of the wind. The Valtieri mansion was filled with urgency and the metallic scent of imposition. The candles in the hall had barely been lit when the guests began to arrive—representatives of the four clans walking across the black marble like shadows with calculated steps.

Selene hadn't been warned. There was no announcement, no preparation, no choice. Only hands dragging her through corridors, maids dressing her in a pale garment in haste, and whispered orders that felt like chains. As she entered the hall, her heterochromatic eyes immediately caught sight of the improvised altar, the somber pulpit, and her father, Cassios Valtieri, standing like an executioner before the silent crowd.

"Today, I announce the engagement between my daughter, Selene Valtieri, and Dante Vesper."

His voice echoed like a death sentence—cold, merciless.

A brutal silence fell. The murmurs in the corners ceased, and Selene stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the floor as if it might swallow her whole. The air around her grew dense, suffocating. This wasn't surprise—it was betrayal. And there was no escape.

Dante leaned against the opposite wall, dressed in black like a harbinger, his steel gaze resting on her with mockery. A faint smile curled his lips, devoid of any tenderness. It was as if he were savoring her humiliation. Beside him, the red-haired woman—Elowen—watched with hungry eyes. She stepped forward, as if the moment demanded a drop of poison.

"Congratulations, heir," she whispered sarcastically, her eyes sliding over Selene with disdain. "How lucky you are... to be handed over like a lamb to a wolf."

Selene stared back, fury burning bright like embers under the shadows.

"Break a wolf's teeth, and he's nothing but a useless dog," she murmured with contempt before walking away.

She left the hall without permission, ignoring the stares. Behind the curtains and carved columns, the darkness of the corridors felt more honest than any guest.

In a rarely used wing of the mansion, her father awaited—as if he knew she would come. The candlelight cast long, twisted shadows on the cold stone walls.

"You betrayed me," Selene said, her voice hoarse with rage. "No warning, no choice… no soul!"

Cassios turned slowly, his face expressionless.

"You are Valtieri, Selene. You were not born to love—you were born to perpetuate. We are the darkness that sustains this world. And you will be the bridge between two powerful clans. A necessary sacrifice."

"Was my mother a sacrifice too?" she spat the words like venom. "You took her by force, killed her from the inside… and now you sell me like breeding stock. I will never be like her!"

Cassios's eyes gleamed.

"You already are, my daughter."

Selene felt the world spin. The mansion, the corridors, the pacts—it was all a prison without walls. She ran outside, ignoring the shouting, ignoring everything. Rain had begun to fall—thick and icy, as if the heavens rejected her too.

Reaching the lake—the only place where she found peace—she stopped, panting. Mist rose from the water like a shroud. And then she saw him.

Dante.

He stood at the shore like a dark apparition. His black cloak clung to his body from the damp. His gaze was harsh. Voracious.

"Come to cry, heir?" his voice was low, mocking, cruel.

Selene stepped closer without thinking, consumed by hatred, by a desperation that burned in her throat.

"You're the worst of them all, Dante. A nameless bastard, born from the shame of a woman who never wanted you. You are empty. Cruel. Cursed. And now you want to drag me with you into that abyss?"

Dante moved. Fast. Merciless. Before she could back away, his hand gripped hers with brutal strength.

Selene tried to break free, but he overpowered her with ease. His eyes burned with pure rage—or was it desire? She didn't know. Didn't want to.

"You belong to me now." He drew a thin dagger, sharp as a profane vow, and without hesitation, made a deep cut across her palm.

Selene gasped, the blood spilling warm and cruel. The pain was sharp—but his gaze was sharper.

"Every time you look at this," he murmured, pressing his lips to the wound before the blood could drip, "you'll remember who you are. Who you belong to."

She stared at him in shock, tears mixing with the rain and blood.

"You're a monster," she whispered.

"And you will be my queen in hell."

With a brutal motion, Dante pushed her to the soaked ground. Selene fell on her back, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Before she could react, he was on top of her—and kissed her by force. A violent, aggressive kiss—blending possession, desire, and pain. The blood from her wounded hand stained both their lips, making the moment even more profane.

She tried to push him. Tried to scream. But he held her like a predator marks its prey. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were wild.

"You will never be free. Not with magic. Not with prayers." His voice was a dark whisper.

"From now on, even the gods will bow to our bond."

Selene lay still, her dress stained with mud, her face smeared. Her body trembled, but her spirit still fought. Slowly, with her uninjured hand, she pulled on her glove and covered the wound.

"No one will know what happened here. Not the gods. Not the clans. This pain is mine. And one day, Dante… you will bleed more than I did today."

He laughed. A dry, disturbing sound.

"I'd like to see you try, little heir."

She rose with difficulty, pride keeping her upright. With trembling steps, she walked away from him—leaving the lake and her innocence behind. That night, under the silent dark sky, Selene made a silent vow. That no one would ever see her pain again. That what was done would be hidden forever—until the world was ready to watch her fall… or burn everything to the ground.