My Three Beautiful Vampire Wives can hear my Inner Thoughts-Chapter 89: Sacrificial Sevette

Sevette did not even realize what was happening at first.

One moment she was kneeling on the cold marble floor, her palms pressed flat against it in respect, her head bowed so low that her long silver hair pooled around her like spilled moonlight.

The next moment the ground beneath her turned warm, then hot, then unbearably scorching, as if molten blood had begun to flow beneath the stone.

A deep crimson glow seeped through the cracks between the tiles, crawling up like veins under skin, and heat licked at her knees until she gasped and instinctively pushed herself up.

The moment she stood, the crimson hot of the floor faded.

Suddenly, the room fell silent.

Dozens of eyes shifted toward her.

Vampires who had been whispering among themselves suddenly stared as if they had just remembered something important, something delicious.

Their expressions changed one after another, first confusion, then recognition, then a slow, spreading grin that made the air feel thick.

Cain lowered his hand casually, hiding the faint movement within the folds of his sleeve. He did not even look at Sevette directly. He simply watched the reaction ripple outward like a stone thrown into still water.

It only took one to say it.

"Sevette," a sharp voice called from the side, sweet but filled with mischief, "weren’t you... in love with Cain?"

The hall stirred.

Another voice chimed in, louder this time. "Yes, didn’t you want him earlier?"

"And didn’t you once say," someone added with exaggerated innocence, "that you would gladly marry him if Lady Cornelia ever let him go?"

The murmurs grew thicker, more pointed, less subtle.

Cornelia’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she controlled herself. She shifted her gaze, almost lazily, toward Cain. And there he was, standing with his hands behind his back, lips slightly curved, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

So this is what you were planning, she thought, her expression calm on the surface while her pulse quickened beneath it.

The Moonshade vampires did not let Sevette breathe.

"Answer us, Sevette," one demanded, stepping forward. "You admired him, did you not?"

"Dont deny it, we are present here when you said you like him."

"Yeah, you can not deny it," another said, laughing in her voice.

"And you blushed," someone else added mercilessly. "Oh, how you blushed."

The hall erupted into overlapping voices.

"Isn’t that right?"

"Didn’t you say his presence was dazzling?"

"You called him the pride of the Moonshade once."

"Tell us, Sevette, if Lady Cornelia divorces him, would you step forward?"

Sevette felt her throat tighten. Her ears burned. She could feel the weight of their gazes pressing into her skin like needles. She opened her mouth once, then closed it. Words did not come.

Yes, she admired him, he admitted earlier.

But that was earlier.

Before the bloodline test.

Before she didn’t know how lowly he was.

Now the truth hung in the air like a foul smell. His bloodline was lower than that of blood servants. Lower than blood slaves. It was not merely weak. It was humiliating.

She swallowed.

"I..." Her voice trembled. "That was earlier... but now... not anymore."

"Oh?" someone echoed mockingly.

"Before you discovered his bloodline was worthless?" another finished.

Laughter rippled through the chamber.

"Ah, so it was about his bloodline, that’s why you don’t want him now, I thought he’s just handsome."

"Not his face?"

"Oh, but look at him," a female vampire said, tilting her head as she examined Cain openly now, no shame in her stare. "Even if his bloodline is dirt, you cannot deny he is handsome."

"That is true," another agreed immediately. "If we are being honest, his features are almost unfair."

His jawline is sharp enough to cut glass.

His eyes carry that deep crimson that looks like aged wine.

His hair falls just right, not too long, not too short.

"And that build," someone added with a grin. "Lean but strong. He carries himself like nobility even now."

"But what a waste," a different voice sighed dramatically. "All that beauty paired with such a pathetic bloodline."

"A decoration," someone laughed. "A beautiful decoration with no power."

"Like a jeweled goblet filled with water."

"No, worse," another corrected. "A jeweled goblet cracked at the bottom."

They continued, their words weaving praise and insult together so tightly it was hard to separate them.

"Truly handsome."

"Truly useless."

"Such a face."

"Such a disgrace."

Cain stood there, listening.

Inside, he blinked slowly.

These bastards.

Are you complimenting me or insulting me?

His lips twitched once, almost forming a smile, but he forced it down. He kept his posture relaxed, almost bored, as if none of it touched him. But somewhere deep in his chest, something prickled. Pride did not disappear just because one chose to hide it.

Cornelia watched him from the corner of her eye.

She could hear the surface of his thoughts. She felt the irritation beneath his calm mask. And yet, beneath that irritation, there was amusement.

You’re enjoying this, she realized.

You’re turning the blade and watching us bleed. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Then she declares.

Watch what I’ll do next!

The vampires did not stop.

"Sevette," one pressed again, stepping closer to her. "Would you marry him if Lady Cornelia releases him?"

"Think carefully," another added, voice dripping with mock sweetness. "A handsome husband. Even if his bloodline is low, you would at least have a pleasing sight at home."

"Beauty to us vampires does not fade," someone scoffed. "

"But perhaps you can raise him?" another teased. "Teach him humility?"

"Oh, imagine it," one said dramatically, clasping her hands together. "Sevette the savior, that will be your title if you marry him."

They would all agree next.

Sevette’s nails dug into her palms.

She wanted him because she thought his bloodline was extraordinary.

But now?

And they were pushing her forward like a sacrificial pawn.

She glanced at Cain for the first time since standing up.

He looked back at her briefly, and in his eyes she saw something that made her heart skip.

Before she could speak again, a heavy, aged voice cut through the chaos.

"Ahem."

The sound was not loud, yet it carried.

The murmurs died down instantly.

One of the ancestors, leaned forward slightly. His hair was white as frost, his skin pale and thin like old parchment stretched over bone. His eyes, however, were sharp, carrying centuries of memory.

He looked at Sevette.

"Child," he began slowly, his voice deep and worn, "do you understand what it means to carry the Moonshade name?"

Sevette stiffened.

The hall quieted.

The old ancestor continued, his gaze drifting beyond her as if he were looking into the past itself.

"There was once a man named Alaric Moonshade," he said. "He lived during the era when our family was hunted like beasts. The great clans joined hands to crush us. Our bloodlines were dwindling. Our coffers were empty. We were on the brink of extinction."

His voice grew heavier.

"Alaric was young. Strong. Talented. He had every right to flee and save himself. Yet he did not."

The hall felt colder.

"He walked into the enemy’s territory alone. He offered himself as a hostage in exchange for the release of our captured kin. He endured humiliation. Torture. His blood was drained again and again. He was paraded as a trophy."

Sevette’s throat went dry.

"For three years he remained there. Three years of agony. And when he returned, he was no longer whole. His bloodline was damaged beyond repair. His cultivation shattered."

The ancestor’s eyes darkened.

"He died quietly. Forgotten by those outside our clan. But because of him, the Moonshade survived."

Silence pressed against everyone’s ears.

The old vampire did not stop.

"There was also Lady Mirela," he continued. "She was unmatched in beauty. Every clan sought her hand. Yet she married a man twice her age from a declining branch because that alliance brought us soldiers when we needed them most."

His fingers tightened on the armrest of his seat.

"She lived in a household where she was not loved. Where she bore children in silence. Where she swallowed her pride daily. But her sacrifice gave us strength. It gave us land. It gave us breathing space."

The air grew heavier.

"And then there was Dorian Moonshade."

The name carried weight.

"He was brilliant," the ancestor said. "Too brilliant. He could have ascended alone, joined a greater clan, carved his own path. Instead, he chose to remain. He poured his resources into reviving our blood arts. He trained night after night, burning his own lifespan to perfect techniques for future generations."

His voice cracked slightly.

"He died before reaching his prime. His body could not endure the strain. But the techniques he created still sustain us today."

The hall was completely silent now.

Even Cain’s expression shifted, if only slightly.

The ancestor looked back at Sevette.

"Child," he said softly, "do you think the Moonshade stands because of comfort? Because of romance? Because of personal desire?"

His gaze hardened.

"We stand because generation after generation chose the family over themselves."

Sevette felt as if the floor had dropped beneath her.

The old vampire leaned back slowly.

"Marrying for love is a luxury," he said. "Marrying for strength is survival."

His eyes flickered toward Cain, then back to Sevette.

"If it serves the future of the Moonshade, then even marrying a man with a broken bloodline can be a necessary sacrifice."

The words fell like a blade.

"It is the same thing," the ancestor concluded quietly. "Sometimes we must sacrifice for the future of the Moonshade family."