Lire (verb) to read

I traced the soft line of her lips, feeling her warm breath on my fingertips, completely transfixed by my mate.

"My precious moonflower," I whispered.

She curled her hand around the pillow and sighed. I wondered what she was dreaming of.

Truthfully, I could watch her sleep all night, but I was restless.

The cut across her brow, the bruises...they haunted me. Forever, that graveyard would haunt me.

I failed her.

But she wasn't the only one I'd failed.

Imogen was gone—killed by the earthquake—as far as I could tell, and I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault. My failing. I should've found a safer place or fortified the walls. But now the very last water witch and last great seer was gone.

I had to do something.

Then...my gaze landed on the thick black choker around her neck. Gently, I brushed back her hair, wincing when a few of the purple strands caught in the lace.

I once believed the magick in her blood was residual from the barbs of this cursed choker, but I'd been wrong. There was a reason she and her sister had been left as war orphans at Nightfall Convent.

She was a witch.

And not just a witch.

A dark witch someone wanted to hide.

I drew in a shaky breath, contemplating the implications of this. My moonflower wasn't just the sweet, tender woman I'd first suspected her to be. She was a powerful witch worthy of carrying the demonic power of Temperance Kemp.

It was the only thing that made sense. Yet, it made little sense. For a moment, her beautiful silver lilac hair had turned flaming red, but the color had faded, along with her power. I'd never heard of such a thing.

As I stared down at my mate, I could only wonder why she was abandoned at the doorstep of a convent that worships Diana when she was destined for so much more.

Gritting my teeth, I silently promised to figure this out.

I wished I could speak to Natalia about all this. She would see something I wasn't. But I couldn't. She wouldn't willingly discuss Claire, and I was in no mood to hear any more of her suspicions.

So I was left alone.

I dragged my finger down Claire's cheek, taking one more look at her, then slipped from the bed. As loathe as I was to leave her, the only place I could turn for guidance was my books. I had to trust that answers were there.

My library was filled with rare grimoires and ancient magick tomes I'd accumulated over the centuries. Maps, histories, even some fiction—but it wasn't a story that I was after.

I had questions.

The library joined with my bedchamber by a hidden door that I left open just in case Claire awoke.

I climbed the spiraling stairs up one level until the smell of old parchment and dust grew thick. With a twist of my fingers, I lit the brass sconces, filling the room with warm light.

My magick was far from what it used to be when I was a full-blooded witch. But I'd sacrificed my gift a long time ago to become what I was today.

A blood drinker.

A weapon.

A shield to protect the innocent and keep the balance of power on earth.

Blood magick couldn't help me now.

Trailing along the bookshelves, I contemplated my collection, and selected multiple books on the lineage of dark witches, spells of the dark occult, and a few other books to reference, then settled at my uncomfortable desk chair.

For a long while, I sat there reading, trying not to be angry or blame myself for Claire's life until now, but I couldn't stop the guilt from piling up.

If I hadn't been so obstinant and sought her out the moment we were bonded, I could've saved her from a horrible upbringing where she was made to feel stupid and insignificant.

She could've been raised as royalty in the capital, with tutors, nurses, and those who would love her well enough until she came of age and we were married. As was the custom.

But I hadn't. I'd abandoned her, too. Which meant I had to work backward to figure all this out.

This burden was mine to bear. The only reassurance I had was the slow, steady rhythm of her heart as it beat against my chest, emanating from my bloodstone.

I renewed my focus on my books. There was something going on here. Some plot lurking in the shadows, just out of sight.

After some time, I came upon some writings on the In generationem et generationem spell that transfers a dark witch's magick from generation to generation. The spell that I had been a part of. 

I knew it was a sacred ritual in old covens where special demonic energy was handed down. I began to read more quickly, leaning forward in my chair, taking in every line.

If this text was correct, the spell only works because certain families were descendants of demons—the ancestors of children born from a human-demon union. It was the only way the energy could remain in a human body—because the witch was part demon.

I set the book down.

If that were true, then Claire was a Kemp.

And...some small part of her was a demon.

Standing, I pushed the chair aside and began pacing the room, trying and failing to make sense of it all. 

On one hand, this explained so much. The wild energy inside her begging to be let out. Her entrancing beauty. Even the way she walked. So delicate, yet so powerful.

But on the other hand, it raised more questions.

None of my brothers had been mated to witches; in their wisdom, Diana and Damien had chosen this witch for me. Maybe I could find comfort in this.

I was the one meant to help her. To love her.

As I paced back and forth, I wondered what could've caused the Kemps to send her away. Rejecting your kin wasn't a common practice.

The only thing I could think of was that someone didn't want Claire to inherit this powerful magick.

A ghostly chill swept through the library, and the candles flickered in the scones, sending shadows around the room. I looked around, but no one was here. I was very much alone.

It was just a chill. The castle was drafty, that's all.

Running my hand through my hair, I went back to pacing. My thoughts bounced back and forth as quickly as I did. What-if scenarios taking shape and quickly being dismissed as improbable.

Until I put myself in the shoes of a dark witch who would go so far as to abandon my child.

What if Claire and her sister were seen as a threat. Kemp children who had been hidden away in a place no dark witch would ever think to look.

Perhaps they even went so far as to...bind her powers. It's the only thing that explained what happened after the in generationem spell.

I abruptly stopped walking, my jaw going slack.

No. That couldn't be. Could it?

The gods forbade binding magickal powers. To do so meant you were questioning the sacred power of the gods themselves. In all my years of studying magick, I'd never even seen a grimoire that described how to do such a thing.

There were whispers, of course, over the years of desiring to bind a particularly nasty spellcaster's power, but we knew of the consequences.

The Kemps were one of the most powerful covens of dark witches. This generational power was coveted. Revered.

I balled my fists.

Hera had been bold enough to believe it would pass to her, and she was willing to risk the destruction of her coven to possess it.

She was willing to kill a vampire prince and his sanguine partner.

But we won, and now Claire possessed the power reserved for the matriarch of the Kemp coven.

Suddenly, my thoughts turned from contemplating the why of it...to the practicality of this new gift.

The only way I could focus while in the Lawless Lands was if Claire could protect herself. I knew she wasn't able to use a blade, and she wasn't amenable to hand to hand combat training.

But...If Claire was a dark witch with enviable power, it didn't matter if she could wield a blade.

She could wield magick.

She could protect herself if only she had access to the magick thrumming in her veins. The power, that by all rights, belonged to her.

I could be completely wrong, and my theory could be far-fetched, but there was only one way to find out.

I needed to unbind her magick.

Only...I had no idea how to do that. And no book in my collection would offer me guidance. Nor could I ask Imogen for help.

Then an idea came to me. A wild idea. An idea that might just be crazy enough to work.

**IMPORTANT UPDATE**

Hi everyone!!! First of all, I want to thank all of you who have been reading this story for a while now. Your comments, votes, and steadfast support of me has meant the world.

And we just hit 50k reads! Like, what?!? 😭❤️🫶😊

I was in a pretty dark place when I started writing this story, and I was intent on quitting. But I trusted my love of vampire stories with witchy love interests, and clung to this story for dear life.

I'm happy to report that it worked. I'm still writing. And I love this story and these characters. And it's because of you.

And now, I'm happy to announce that Fated to the Vampire Prince has been picked up by Wattpad Originals! 🧡

But what does that mean for the story moving forward?

1. This will be the last new free chapter that I'll be posting.

2. On 9/8, all chapters will be put into draft mode, except the first chapter, in preparation for launch on September 23rd.

3. We will be launching with 30 chapters, and updating twice a week. The story will have over 100 chapters total, and will have a rolling paywall on the last ten chapters.

4. You do not need to go back and read paywalled chapters if you don't want to. The story has gone through an edit, and there will be two new chapters added, but the plot will remain the same.

Bottom line, Bastien and Claire aren't going anywhere, and you'll still be able to read for free if you don't mind waiting, or by watching ads for coins.

Thank you so much for sticking with me and Claire and Bastien. Here's to many more parts to their story.

❤️
Ainsley