The Blood Heiress They Sent to Her Death 9

Chapter 9

“I have always loved you truly! It was ambition that poisoned me, not hatred! Please-speak to the Elder! I will never do this again I will marry you, cherish you, serve you for the rest of my existence!”

The Blood Memory flared: [Do not believe a single word! In the fate that was meant to be, the moment he took the throne, he sent you to the soldiers’ barracks to be broken and humiliated until you died -alone, in the mud, with his name on your lips as a curse.]

The fire that erupted in my chest was purifying. I drove my foot into his chest and hurled him backward across the stone. “You dare speak of shared childhood? When you conspired to destroy me -where was our childhood then? When you plotted my Final Death -where was our childhood then? You have committed crimes that the blood of a thousand innocents could not wash clean. The Final Death is mercy compared to

what you deserve.”

I rounded on the guards. “What are you standing there for? TAKE THEM!”

The guards seized Corvin and hauled him toward the doors. He screamed -my name, apologies, curses -until the heavy iron slammed shut and the sound of him was gone. Mira and Old Marta followed, howling,

dragged into the darkness.

The chamber fell silent at last. The lords and ladies of the Court kept their heads bowed. No one dared to

speak. The spectacle we had all witnessed was too raw, too close to catastrophe.

The Elder sat on his throne and looked at me. Slowly, terribly, his ancient eyes reddened.

“Seraphina.” He beckoned me closer. His voice was rough, scraped raw. “Come here.”

I walked to him. He reached out and stroked my hair -the same gesture he had used when I was small and frightened of the dark.

“My child. You have been wronged.” His voice carried all the guilt and grief of a father who had nearly destroyed his own daughter. “I should have believed you. I should have seen what was in front of my eyes.

Instead, I let them use my hand to strike you. I am… so sorry.”

I shook my head and offered him a quiet smile. “Father, I am not aggrieved. To clear my name, to defend the

honor of our Blood -that is worth any suffering.”

Later, to put every lingering doubt to rest -and to silence the whisper of matricide forever -I performed the

Blood Rite with my father one final time. Fresh water, drawn under a dozen witnesses. The moment our

blood merged into one, the last shadow dissolved. I am the Blood Heir of House Blackthorn. And always

have been.

In the weeks that followed, the Elder showered me with honors to make amends. The richest territories, the

oldest heirlooms, the deepest vaults. Corvin’s network of conspirators was rooted out and purged -every last one. The Night Court breathed clean again.

One month later, the Elder announced a new Blood-Binding for me. Lord Aldric Voss -heir of House Voss, the

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oldest of our allied bloodlines. A man of measured words and sharp mind, of steady hands and steadfast honor. No drama. No deceit. Just quiet, unshakable worth.

On the eve of my new Binding, I went to the Silver Cells. To see them one last time.

I had instructed the guards to keep them alive but only just. A month of measured suffering had done its work. Old Marta’s hair was wild and gray, her body a map of wounds, her breathing so shallow it barely stirred the air. Mira was no better one eye gone, her face carved with scars, her remaining eye leaking fluid. Corvin had fared slightly better, but only in the way a man with broken bones fares better than a corpse. One leg shattered. One arm dislocated. His once-handsome face twisted into something grotesque.

When they saw me, hatred ignited in their ruined eyes like lamps in a crypt. “SERAPHINA!” Mira’s screech clawed through the bars. “You came to gloat! I will find you in the next life -I will NEVER stop hunting you!”

Old Marta burned her last breath cursing me. “Poisonous creature! May you die screaming! We will be

waiting for you in the dark!”

Corvin said nothing. He just stared -a stare that wanted to peel the flesh from my bones.

I leaned against the cold bars and let myself enjoy the view. Once, they had stood in the light and tried to

push me into the abyss. Now they were the ones in the dark.

“Don’t get so excited.” I kept my voice light. “I came to share good news. Tomorrow, I enter a new Blood-Binding. I will be happy, and powerful, and loved. And you…” I let my gaze travel across them, slow as a blade. “In three days, the executioner’s silver will find you. Piece by piece. Until there is nothing left but the

screaming.”

“NO-NO, PLEASE!” Mira’s shrieking filled the corridor. “Seraphina -I was wrong -I will be your slave -anything

-PLEASE!”

Old Marta joined the chorus of despair, her voice a ruined whisper. “My lady… this old woman begs you…

mercy… mercy…”

“Now you beg?” I straightened up. “When you tried to destroy me, did mercy cross your minds? I have only ever hated one thing -betrayal. And you three have betrayed me beyond any measure of forgiveness.”

I turned to Corvin. “And you. The would-be Elder. All that scheming, all that blood -and this is where it ends.

How does it feel?”

Corvin finally spoke. His voice was sand and broken glass. “I am not reconciled. But if fate gave me another

chance… I would only plan better.”

I let out a quiet laugh. “The defeated dog still bares its teeth. Enjoy your final hours.”

I turned and walked away. Behind me, their wails and curses echoed through the Silver Cells until the iron.

doors sealed them into silence.

Three days later, under the new moon, Corvin, Mira, and Old Marta were given the Final Death. The courtyard was packed. The Night Court watched them scream their last. And I -I stood beside Lord Aldric Voss in a

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gown of crimson silk, and I did not look away.

The Binding ceremony was everything the first one should have been. Aldric held my hand with a grip that was warm and steady and entirely his own. The Elder watched from the high seat and smiled until his

ancient face crinkled.

In the years that followed, Aldric and I built something rare -a union not of conspiracy, but of trust. We raised

a son and a daughter. We ruled our territories with wisdom. We were, in every way that mattered, happy.

Chapter 1 Mr. Nathan

Jane Austen

Jane is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.