I barely even understood what he was saying at that time. I couldn’t understand his hatred toward vampires or why he was so adamant to keep his family away from those creatures. Whenever I thought of vampires, all I could think of was the power that came with them. I wanted that power.


I began asking Aiden about how to find vampires, how to track them down. During times when he obviously did not want to talk about vampires, I would turn on my charm and usually after a tumble in bed, he would oblige me and answer my questions.


I may not have realized it at first but I saw the vampires as my escape from the hopelessness brought about by my own daughter’s birth. I was tired of feeling so powerless against all the despair and all the fears, and the fascination I felt for those dark, mysterious creatures began to consume me.


When I felt ready to actually hunt for a vampire, I asked Aiden if I could start working as an archaeologist once again. Of course, he didn’t deny this request from me. He even encouraged it.


“I was wondering when you would once again give in to that adventurous streak I know you have,” he said as he kissed me on the forehead. “Maybe now that you’re on these expeditions of yours, you’ll think less about vampires and more about archaeology.” He seemed so pleased as he held me in his arms and kissed me.


I was so in love with him and I realized then that my love for him was the reason I was so weak. Two weeks after that, I was off to my first adventure in years. My first destination, of course, was Egypt.


I was determined not to leave Egypt until I found out who Borys Maslen was and whether or not he was what I suspected—a vampire. It took a couple of weeks of digging and prodding, following the tips and tricks I’d learned about to track down vampires, before the man I was looking for came to me.


It was the middle of the night and I had just crawled into my bed, when a hand clamped over my mouth and the weight of a man fell atop me. At first, I thought I was about to be assaulted, but when I saw the fangs, my emotions quickly shifted from terror to complete fascination.


“I know that you’ve been looking for me, woman,” he hissed into my ear. “Why is that? Choose your answer well for it may be your last. And don’t you dare scream or I will make sure your death will be a slow and painful one.”


He took his hand away from my mouth. I looked right into his face, unflinching and told him my request. “I want to become a vampire.”


At that, he scoffed. “You? A vampire?”


“Yes.”


“Why on earth would I give you that honor?”


“I’ll give you anything, do anything…”


His face broke into a manic smile, his dark eyes glimmering against the lamp’s dim light. “Anything? Prove your loyalty to me by giving me the person most precious to you.”


“If I do that, what are you going to do to that person?”


“Whatever I please.”


The most precious person in my life was and would always be Aiden. For a moment, I considered giving him to this stranger, this vampire, but I couldn’t. My love for him overpowered my desire to become like the powerful creature that found me that night. However, there was one person precious in my life whom I could offer to him. “I have a daughter. She’s nine years old. I’m willing to offer her up to you to prove my loyalty.”


The recollection of the delighted smile on his face still sent chills up my spine many years later. “Perfect,” he said, before biting into my neck, injecting the serum that would forever destroy Camilla Claremont and bring Ingrid Maslen into being.


I tried to convince myself that I never felt regret after that night. As Ingrid Maslen, I was immortal, I was powerful and I had a family of vampires who would never leave me. I would never again be abandoned. I did a good job pretending that I was alright, but many years later, I realized that I wasn’t.


I was in inner turmoil as I listened to my daughter hissing at Borys, “I’m not your betrothed.” She spat the words out, as if it was the most sickening notion she’d ever been forced to contemplate.


I knew then that that was my cue. I braced myself to once again face Sofia. This was after I had offered her up as prey for a vampire to feast on. “Actually, Sofia,” I spoke up, desperate to keep my voice steady and confident, as I stepped out of the curtains and took my place beside Borys’ throne, “you really are his betrothed.”


No words could explain the way I felt upon seeing the shocked and grief-stricken reaction on her face when she laid eyes on me. I wanted to wipe her tears away. I wanted to pull her into my arms and embrace her.


Seeing what a beauty my daughter had become—lovelier than I ever was at eighteen years old, it hit me full force what I had given up when I became Ingrid Maslen. I gave my daughter up. I gave my husband up. I gave my entire life up.


“She looks so happy to see you, Ingrid.” Borys tilted his head to the side, a manic smile on his face.


Sofia’s eyes were fixed on me. She couldn’t have possibly known the effect it had on me when she uttered, “Mom?”


I hated that I felt affection toward Sofia since I was loyal to Borys, but it was the truth nonetheless: I detested the idea of him touching my daughter. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I knew the things that he would put her through. I saw him do it to countless young women, and I didn’t want that for her, but I belonged to Borys and I knew it. Thus, being my daughter, Sofia belonged to him too. Not knowing how to handle the adverse reaction I felt, I did the only thing I could do: I inched closer to the dark side and turned my emotions off. I didn’t want to care about Sofia. I didn’t want to deal with any emotions I couldn’t understand, much less control.


Thus, I was able to smile at her—completely indifferent to her plight—and tell her, “Yes, Sofia. It’s me. Your mother. I betrothed you to Borys a long time ago. You are rightfully his.”


I stood by Sofia’s bed, my eyes fixed on the blood trickling down her milky white thighs. Her legs were quivering from the pain. She was obviously trying to fight back the tears. She gave me a quick look—accusing, hurt and full of contempt. I couldn’t blame her. I would’ve hated myself too had I been in her place.


I just stood by and watched her scream as Borys kissed her the same time he sank his claws into her thighs, drawing blood. I did nothing. As I watched him do as he pleased with her, all I could think about was what she had just revealed to us—that she was already married to Derek Novak.


I realized that a part of me was still hoping that I would see her in an exquisite, white gown—a bride walking down the aisle to her groom. I missed it. I missed my own daughter’s wedding.


When Borys threatened to make a widow out of her and kill Derek, so that he could take his rightful place as Sofia’s husband, I was overwhelmed with relief. I could still be there at her wedding!


My stomach clenched at my own sick thinking, but before guilt could creep in, I snapped into attention when Borys pushed Sofia to the ground and looked my way to instruct me to “heal my daughter.” I was transfixed by the sight of Sofia whimpering on the ground. I had no idea what to do. I wanted to help her out and ease her pain. Yet another part of me just wanted to get as far away from her as possible.


I ordered two guards to help me take her to her bedroom.


“Be gentle with her,” I snapped at them. “She is, after all, to become your queen.”


They gave me strange glances, but I ignored them and walked ahead to the bedroom. Later, I had vampire blood brought to her in order for the wounds on her legs to heal.


“You’ve drunk vampire blood before,” I told her, noticing how the idea of drinking the blood didn’t seem to faze her at all.


She just glared at me. That’s when I realized that she wasn’t like me at all. I thought that she was weak—and from her appearance alone, it seemed that way—but I could see underneath her shaking exterior. I couldn’t help but shudder, because at that point, I could only sense one thing from Sofia: power.


Intimidated by her, I tried to break her down the next time I had an encounter with her. Borys sent me to her so that I could bring her to his chambers. I wondered if he was being cruel or if he was testing me to see if my loyalty would belong to him or to Sofia. I found the idea ridiculous. Hadn’t I already proven how loyal I was to him?


I went to Sofia’s bedroom and found her speaking to her best friend, Ben—Amelia’s son. I found myself missing my best friend—one who’d been there for me during some of the toughest days of my life, while I was Camilla Claremont. I hated looking at Ben because of how much he reminded me of Amelia, and I couldn’t stand being around him.


“I want time alone with my daughter,” I told the guards. “Have the young man brought to the little blonde vampire from The Shade. She’s been harping on about him since she got here.”


I could feel the atmosphere tense as I watched the look of horror on Sofia’s face. For some reason, I found delight in evoking terror in her.


“No…” Sofia begged. “Please…no… Not her… Not Claudia… Mother, please.”


Mother. The word was like a splash of cold water calling out to the remaining fibers of maternal instinct left in me—a final plea for me to show the motherly affection my daughter was clearly starving for. I raised a hand toward the guards who were already approaching to take Ben. “Wait. What did you just call me?” I asked, hungry to hear the word again.


“Mother…” Sofia’s lips trembled as she spoke. She grabbed Ben’s hand, seeming to both give and draw strength from him. “Isn’t that what you are? My mother?”


“Yes. That’s right, Sofia.” I smiled, confused by the emotions whirling inside me. “I’m your mother.” Despite the delight I felt over this truth, the powerful Ingrid would always win over weak and pathetic Camilla. “That means you do what I say, right?”


She nodded. “Of course.”


“So you’re not going to cause any trouble tomorrow?”