A sharp knock at the door spelled the end of her world as she knew it. Kaliana scowled, pacing around in her room furiously. If there was one thing vaguely vampiric about her, it was that her hearing was as sharp as the rest of her kin, and the thin walls of their estate only helped her, unlike the many times they'd kept her awake. She could hear her father walking about in the entrance hall, his footfalls soft until he'd heard the crisp ding of their front door bell and the knocking which had swiftly followed. It was the sound of finality. She was leaving... whether she liked it or not. Her foot slammed down, bare, luckily for the floor.

Deep down, she'd always known there was a chance for her to become royalty, and at first she'd dreamed of it. It had been like a fantasy – one of those romantic stories she'd often liked to read about before she went off to bed. Fairy tales didn't exist in reality though. Reality was cold, cruel, and mocking. Yet now that very scenario was her new reality. She was about to be married off, just like her mother had been before her – when the Reynard Family still had its prestige.

Her father had often told her she was like her mother in more ways than one. She'd also been a Queen's Candidate since they'd tested her blood on her fifth birthday, the thin strand of glowing red light illuminating the coppery liquid having left everyone with no doubts. She had a variant of the bloodline needed to continue the royalty's own. Sure, due to her sheer abysmal failures over the years, she had been added to the very bottom of the list. She'd been a small name on a list of over fifty people. Not many people could put a face to her name and not many wanted to either, but that would soon change. She was, after all, going to be queen.

Her hands fisted in the dress she'd thrown on. It was a simple one, nothing fancy like those the ladies of the court always wore. She didn't need to impress anyone. She didn't want to. All she wanted to do was stomp around the room, and scream her frustration, so that was what she did.

"Good evening," her father's voice rang out, oddly hoarse, audible to her even over her yelling, his tone cautious as he no doubt eyed up the man set to become her future husband. "Your Highness..."

"We're here to collect Lady Kaliana," a smooth voice interjected, and briefly she wondered if that was her future fiancé, but as luck would have it, it wasn't. It was his knight.

Of course the princely bastard wouldn't bother to talk to someone so low in the rankings of nobility, Kaliana thought bitterly, kicking at her four-poster bed, ripping at the silky grey curtains. All the aristocrats outside the safety of the estate were all the same.

"She's upstairs," her father spoke hesitantly, "but she's not in the best of moods."

She stomped on the floor again, smiling viciously as the thud echoed through the floorboards. Too right she wasn't in the best of moods... and guess whose fault that was? That stupid bastard of a prince who'd come to drag her away from everything she knew and loved.

"Hmm. How so?" Another voice sounded, curiosity lacing the tone, as though he couldn't hear what was going on in her room.

Anybody whom the prince chose to accompany him had to be some elitist snob of some description.

"I'm afraid she didn't take the news of the engagement very well..."

"I see." The words sent shivers down her spine, the sheer force of the speaker behind those words making the predator inside her quiver. That was the prince who spoke. His voice was no doubt far more pleasant than the earful of screams her father had been on the receiving end for the past few hours. "Lead the way."

Kaliana sucked in a breath, ensuring her door was locked, kicking at her dresser as the sound of footsteps grew closer. She wasn't ready. How could she be? Her idiot father had only told her a few hours before, all so she couldn't run away. She ran over to her window, silently weighing up how far she'd be able to run in the next minute or so before they reached her door. Silvery-blue curtains were pulled back, her breath escaping in a rush as she spotted a figure perched on her windowsill, back turned towards her. Yelping, she stumbled back, heart thudding furiously even after she spotted the crest embroidered into the band he wore clasped around his arm.

The Royal Crest.

Meaning the Royal Guard... and one of their members was sitting on her windowsill, preventing her escape via that route. Groaning, she pulled the curtains too, ears burning at the faint chuckle she heard from outside. Mocking her. Her teeth ground together, fangs pressing at her gums in an attempt to descend. She hated it.

Her glass mug shattered on the ground, drywall cracking as she kicked at the fancy wallpaper. "Not in the best moods, huh?" That same curious voice sounded again, and Kaliana wanted to punch the speaker. Not that it'd do much damage. Her arms were practically limp noodles whenever it came to any form of exercise.

"Albion, for once in your life, behave," the knight hissed, elbowing the irritating one in the stomach if the sounds were any indication. "Stay alert. We might've surrounded the place, but we don't know if anyone else is trying to get to her."

"Kal..." Her father knocked on the ash-coloured door, the sound seemingly echoing through her room as she caught her breath. They were there. "Your fiancé has arrived."

Kaliana scowled, indignation written across her face. "I don't have a fiancé!"

"Someone's in denial... and here I thought she'd be jumping at the chance to roll around in the hay with our dear—ow!"

Silently, Kaliana thanked whoever the hell had shut up that curious voice. Albion, if her memory served correctly, had only succeeded in riling her up even more.

"This isn't the time or the place for such talk, Alby," a new voice sounded.

She stomped her foot. "Piss off!" she hissed, silently wishing they'd all up and vanish – leave her safe in her room.

"I'm not alone out here, Kaliana," her father spoke, not that she needed the reminder. She could hear them. Four of them, not including her father, all waiting outside her door.

"And?"

"So I take it the dear little princess doesn't want to come?" the latest speaker said, and she could feel his stare boring into her through the walls. "What a mess this is turning out to be..."

"Tch." Rather than the argument Kaliana was expecting to hear following the small sound of annoyance, she blinked, watching as her door clattered to the ground. A single booted foot was outstretched, telling her exactly what had happened to her precious means of privacy.

She blinked, her breathing ragged from all the kicking and screaming she'd been doing as she took in the sight of the man standing in her doorway like he owned the damn place. He was tall, like most vampires were, a pair of deep-set eyes of the brightest blue glaring at her. His black hair was slicked back, a wayward strand falling across his aquiline nose, with a pair of pale pink lips curled down in a frown as he took her in.

She knew what he was seeing, having stared in the mirror enough times to know. Her hair was the colour of ink – black with an odd blue tinge to it – angry grey eyes glaring back into his own with the same amount of venom. She refused to yield to him. Maybe some would class her as pretty, yes, but not beautiful. Not compared to everyone at the palace, where the damned prince in front of her was determined to drag her to. She might make a decent queen, perhaps, if he somehow managed to erase the petty, bratty side of her which had decided to throw things at him to keep him at bay – because clearly doors weren't enough.

A loud sigh escaped his lips, his stare turning even icier as he stared at the child who was supposed to become his wife, but Kaliana didn't relent in her throwing.

It was going to be a long day.