Three Days to Forget a Vampire

A vampire can only share a blood pact with one mate. My husband, Duke Vincent, and I have been in love and bound by our pact for ten years. Back then, he swore his loyalty to me before the vampire gods.

But today, as his cursed first love lies dying, he hands me a vial of the oblivion draught and forcibly breaks our bond.

"Elara, Camilla is dying. Just give me three days. Let me fulfill her dream of a blood wedding."

"I don't want you to hurt. This draught just causes temporary amnesia. Once the wedding ends in three days, I'll go to the capital and get the antidote. You'll remember me, and we'll bind a much grander blood pact."

I stare at his uncompromising expression. Then I take the vial and swallow the potion without a second thought.

What Vincent doesn't know is that I brewed this oblivion draught myself.

There is absolutely no antidote.

In three days, I'll not only forget him completely, but I'll also head to the human capital to start my new job at the Royal Potion Workshop.

...

"Tick."

The pocket watch snaps shut in Vincent's long fingers.

In the center of the altar, the dark red blood pact totem that bound us for ten years crumbles into ash.

"Two more minutes and the potion of forgetting takes full effect." Vincent looks down at me where I kneel on the floor. His tone holds a patronizing kind of gentleness.

"For the next three days, you'll forget every memory of loving me."

He forces the parchment branded with the vampire crest, the very contract dissolving our bond, into my freezing hands.

"Once my wedding with Camilla is over in three days, and her final wish is fulfilled, I'll go to the human capital myself to find you the antidote." Vincent strokes my hair, like he is calming down a clueless pet.

"When you drink it, we'll have an even grander ceremony to remarry. You are my only eternal mate."

I keep my eyes lowered, staring at the ash staining my fingertips. A faint, mocking smile pulls at the corner of my mouth.

As the alchemist who brewed this potion, nobody in the world knows how it works better than I do. 

There is no antidote.

And the potion doesn't hit you all at once. It's like snow falling in slow motion, takes three days to slowly freeze and bury every feeling and memory you have of that person, bit by bit, until it's all just... white.

Nothing but white.

"Are you sure you won't regret this, Your Grace?"

I look up at him. My eyes, which used to burn with love for him, are now as dead and calm as stagnant water.

This unnatural calm seems to sting him. His handsome brow instantly furrows.

"Camilla waited for me for decades. Her only dying wish is to have a blood wedding with me before she is gone." His tone turns icy, leaving no room for argument.

"Elara, you have to believe me. I only love you. Camilla is just my responsibility, a regret I have to fix. She is dying!" Vincent grips my shoulders hard, clearly annoyed.

"You've always been reasonable. Why are you picking a fight over a dying woman?"

The sharp pain in my shoulders tears open dusty memories deep in my mind. 

During our most passionate years, I tested forbidden potions on my mortal body to save him when he was gravely injured. I coughed up blood and nearly died on the alchemy table.

For me, he slaughtered his way through the vampire council single-handedly. He was willing to be stripped of his title just to keep me safe in his arms. 

What kind of moonlit night was that?

I leaned against his chest and joked, What if one day, my human self grows old and forgets you, Your Grace?

Vincent's crimson eyes went red. He kissed me, almost losing control. "Elara, I swear on my vampire blood, if you ever forget me, I would rather fall into eternal night!"

The vow still echoes in my ears, yet the man who made it just handed me the poison to break our bond.

A piercing agony suddenly explodes from my nerve endings. The backlash of breaking the blood pact twists my insides like a blade. I let the pain take over, my body slumping forward uncontrollably.

"Elara!" Vincent quickly catches my waist, a flash of panic on his face.

I lean against his chest and feign a confused look at the parchment in my hand.

My voice comes out weak. "What is this? Who are you?"