The Blood Slave’s Poisoned Rebellion

Isadora's POV

The door burst open with a harsh slam, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

I'd just slipped under the covers, ready to end this exhausting day. Heavy, menacing footsteps thudded across the cold stone floor. My body went rigid, heart pounding.

"Get up."

Thaddeus's voice cut through the darkness, laced with unyielding command. I clutched the blanket tightly, but he was already at the bedside. His pale, slender fingers yanked the covers away without hesitation, exposing me to the icy air.

"Master, I..."

"Shut up."

He dragged me off the bed in one swift motion, my feet stumbling as they hit the ground. My nightgown twisted awkwardly in the process, slipping off one shoulder and exposing my collarbone. I instinctively tried to fix it, but his hand clamped down on my wrist like a vise.

"Ten years, and you're still this disobedient," he hissed, his voice right at my ear, hot breath grazing my neck. "Do I need to remind you of the rules?"

He shoved me against the wall, my back slamming into the frigid stone. Pain shot through me, forcing a sharp gasp from my lips.

"Please... be gentle..."

"Gentle?" He sneered, his fingers hooking under the strap of my nightgown and ripping it down. The fabric tore with a sharp rip that pierced the quiet room. "You think you're in a position to bargain with me?"

The nightgown slid to the floor, leaving my upper body completely bare. Shame flooded me like a tidal wave. I tried to cover myself with my hands, but he pinned me firmly against the wall.

"Look at you—what a perfect blood bag." His fingers traced lightly over my neck, searching for the ideal spot. "These veins pulse just for me."

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting to steady my breathing. Scenes like this had played out too many times; I knew resistance would only make it worse.

When his fangs sank into my neck, the sharp agony nearly made me black out. He drank greedily, siphoning my life force bit by bit. My legs trembled, barely able to hold me up.

"Scared?" He deliberately slowed his feeding, dragging out the pain. "Good. You should always remember your place."

I clenched my jaw, refusing to make a sound. Tears streamed down my face unchecked, but I stayed silent.

"Your blood... it's so sweet." He licked the wound with satisfaction, blood trickling down my neck. "Just like the first time I tasted it, ten years ago."

Ten years ago...

The memory flashed vividly in my mind. At the vampire market, I was displayed like merchandise in a cage, dressed in a tattered white dress, my body covered in bruises. Surrounding vampires appraised me like livestock.

"This human looks healthy."

"Her blood should be pure."

"She's not cheap, is she?"

I huddled in the corner of the cage, staring in despair as these monsters decided my fate. Then Thaddeus appeared.

He was dressed in an expensive black coat, his pale face twisted in a cruel smile. He circled my cage, inspecting me like a piece of art.

"This one," he said, his voice dripping with twisted satisfaction. "I want this human as my exclusive blood source."

After the deal was done, I was brought to this ancient castle. From that moment, I became his personal property.

"What are you thinking about?" Thaddeus's voice yanked me back to the present. He'd finished feeding, but his hand still pressed down on my shoulder. "Recalling our first meeting?"

I didn't dare answer, just stared at the floor.

"You should feel honored," he said, tilting my chin up with his finger, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Serving as a blood source for a vampire prince is such a noble purpose."

"Yes... Master." My voice was barely a whisper.

"Good." He released me and turned toward the door. "Remember, you're nothing but my exclusive blood bag. Nothing more."

After the door closed, I slid slowly to the floor. The physical pain was nothing compared to the humiliation gnawing at my soul. Shivering, I picked up the torn nightgown and pulled it on haphazardly.

In the mirror, my reflection stared back—pale-faced, with drying blood streaking my neck. I trudged to the sink and rinsed the wound with cold water. The sting as it flowed over my skin was familiar; I'd grown used to it.

Ten years.

A full decade of this existence. Every night, he'd come for my blood—sometimes once, sometimes twice. When he was in a foul mood, the process turned even more painful and degrading.

I opened the drawer and pulled out gauze and antiseptic. These were supplies I'd secretly gathered; vampires never cared if our wounds healed. To them, we were just walking meals.

After tending to the injury, I changed into a clean nightgown. The room fell silent again, broken only by my heavy breathing.

But tonight, I didn't head straight back to bed.

I crept to the door, pressing my ear against it to listen. Once sure Thaddeus was gone, I eased it open and peered into the corridor.

The castle nights were always deathly quiet. I padded barefoot across the cold stone floor, every step cautious.

The basement door was hidden behind the kitchen—easy to miss if you weren't looking. I fished out the key I'd secretly duplicated from my hiding spot.

The door creaked open, revealing the stairs descending into darkness. I lit the candle in my hand, its flame casting flickering shadows on the walls.

This had once been a storage room, but now it was my secret laboratory. Rough wooden tables held an array of equipment: a microscope, test tubes, beakers, and stacks of medical books.

I ignited the oil lamp on the desk, its warm glow illuminating the small space. My fingers brushed over the instruments—these were things I'd collected bit by bit over the years.

From a drawer beneath the table, I retrieved a small vial. It contained a deep crimson liquid that shimmered under the light. I placed it under the microscope and examined it closely.

The blood sample showed subtle changes. The special compounds I'd added were slowly taking effect. It would take time, but the results would be permanent.

My hand instinctively touched the ring on my chest. I closed my eyes, a warm smile appearing in my mind's eye.

"Soon, Marcus," I whispered, my voice echoing in the basement. "I promised you—I will make it happen."