I thought he took the news pretty well. It's not every day that a wife confesses to being a blood-sucking fiend. In hindsight, maybe if I had told him sooner, he would have made a better choice. Then again...

Everything happens for a reason, right? Events played out the way they did so that I'd discover that the man I married had secrets of his own. And here I thought being a vampire was the worst kind of secret to reveal.

_ as it turned out, “monster” is a relative term. Having fangs and draining blood paled in comparison to narcissistic sadism. I don't know what was most surprising: discovering there was a market for vampire trafficking or finding out that the man I loved with everything I was had been capable of selling me to the highest bidder.

I'm not sure how long I've sat in this room. Time stopped the moment men wrestled me into submission, the moment I saw a case being handed to the love of my existence. He didn't even look at me. I wonder if I called out for him, though I like to think I didn't give him the satisfaction.

I thought I knew what cold was. Thought I knew what pain entailed.

I learned so much in such a short time.

"I tried to warn you, my sweet." The one who sired me stepped from the shadows as if made from them, walls nothing more than decoration to an entity such as him. Obsessed, the vampire had always lurked in the black. Stalking, watching. Waiting.

I laughed, crude and dark and humorless.

"Humans are...such fickle creatures," he continued his voice as smoke. Enchanting in a way I never gave it notice before.

I looked at him. How many years have I tried to run from him? Tried to deny what I was, convinced I could lead a somewhat normal life?

"Let me take you from this place,” he said, reaching out a graceful hand. "Come back home to me."