Good. Now Watch What Happens to You.

Corinna's POV

The Vane family has carried the vampire's curse for generations. Of every pair of twin sisters born into our bloodline, one will not live to see twenty-five.

Everyone assumed it was my sister — the one always coughing up blood.

Nobody knew that for twenty years, every full moon, the one gritting her teeth through the pain, never making a sound, was me.

The Divine took pity on me and gave me three chances. Win the genuine love of my parents, my brother, or my husband — any one of them — and the curse would lift.

Three chances. Three failures.

The only hope I had left was the baby inside me, seven months along. Bring him into this world, and I'd live.

Then my husband kicked open my hospital room door. My own brother pulled on a surgical gown and picked up a knife. My parents signed the forms outside.

They were going to cut me open, take the last thing keeping me alive, and use it to save my "cursed" sister.

After my life slipped away entirely, the truth came out.

So why is it that the people who sent me to my death are the ones who lost their minds?

Rain batters the windows of the Healing Institute. Thunder shakes the walls. I struggle to breathe, both hands pressed hard over my swollen belly.

The door slams open and I jolt. A group of guards in ducal uniforms floods into the room, locking it down within seconds. Then my husband walks in behind them. Aldric. The youngest duke in the empire.

There's nothing on his face for me. No pity. Just a cold, urgent ruthlessness that makes my stomach sink.

"Aldric..." I barely get his name out. Something cold and nameless crawls up from deep in my gut.

"Hold her down," he says. "Prep the surgery. Now."

Two guards step up and pin my shoulders flat against the bed.

"No — Aldric, what are you doing?" I strain to sit up. I can't. "What the hell is this?"

He comes to stand over me. His eyes are empty. "Celia's curse is acting up. The only thing that can save her is the umbilical cord blood from your baby — and your heart's blood." Not even a flicker of hesitation. "Your sister is dying, Corinna. Stop being so selfish."

A sound tears out of my throat, something between a laugh and a cry. "Selfish? Aldric, I'm seven months pregnant. You know what kind of shape I'm in. If you cut me open right now, my baby doesn't make it. I don't make it. You know that. You're asking me to die."

"Enough with the act." He cuts me off, his face twisting with impatience, something close to disgust in his eyes. "The healer already checked you out. You're weak, but you're fine. Celia could drop dead any minute. She's your sister. Are you really going to just sit there and watch that happen?"

Something inside me shatters.

The vampire's curse. Those words have been a knife in my chest my whole life.

Everyone believed Celia was the one suffering. She was always so good at it — pale skin, trembling hands, a perfectly timed mouthful of blood whenever the right eyes were on her. But I'm the one who's actually been living with that pain, every single night.

The Divine gave me three chances.

The first: when a creature attacked my father, I threw myself in front of it and took the killing blow. I was out for an entire month. When I came to, the whole family was gathered around Celia — who'd only been frightened — and my mother blamed me for not keeping her safe.

The second: when a magic experiment backfired and nearly killed Kalen, I gave half my own blood to brew the antidote. The moment he recovered, Celia cried and said she was scared, and he threw me out of his tower.

The third: I married Aldric. I told myself he'd be different, that maybe he could pull me out of the dark. But all it ever took was one of Celia's tears and he'd leave me alone in a cold room and not come back until morning.

And now the only thing keeping me alive, my own flesh and blood — they're taking that too.

"Aldric, please." Everything I have left goes into those two words. Tears run down my face. I reach out a trembling hand toward him. "This is our baby. He's been kicking me. He's real. He's alive. You can't kill your own child for Celia."

Aldric steps back. His face stays cold.

"You've really let me down, you know that? You know what Celia said right before she passed out? She was defending you. She told me not to blame you." He shakes his head. "And all you can think about is yourself."

He turns toward the door and raises his voice. "Kalen. What are you waiting for? Get in here."

My brother — Kalen, the empire's head healer — walks in wearing a surgical gown.

"Kalen..." I look at him, grasping at anything. "You're here to kill me too?"

His face gives me nothing. "Stop being dramatic. Celia can't wait. You can carry another baby someday. But if we lose Celia, none of us will ever recover from it."

Never recover?

What about me? This curse has been eating my body alive piece by piece. My soul has been screaming for years. Why can none of you hear it?

I stare at these two men I used to love with everything I had, and watch them choose a lie over my life without blinking.

And in that moment, all I feel is tired.

Twenty-four years of fighting. Twenty-four years of shrinking myself, taking every hit without a word, desperately trying to earn even a scrap of love. All of it turns to ash right now.

I stop struggling. I let the guards strap my arms and legs to the table.

God, I give up. I'm done. I don't want their love. Not in this life. Not in the next. Not ever.

I turn my head and look at Aldric. His face is stone. I smile at him, hollow and gutted.

"Let's get a divorce."