The forest whispered ancient secrets as Kael pushed past thick underbrush, his coat snagging on thorny vines, face streaked with sweat and desperation. A darkening sky pressed down, but it was the pressure within—his racing heart, the tremble of magic in his belly—that spurred him onward.
He staggered into a moss-covered clearing at the edge of the Wyrdwood, where the veil between realms was thinnest. His hands glowed faintly. His bloodline—fickle and long-denied—was awakening.
Before he could collapse, a figure stepped from the shadows. Long gray hair twisted in vines, eyes milky with ancient knowing. "You carry a child that hums with two worlds."
Kael fell to his knees. "Please... I need sanctuary. They're hunting us."
The crone lifted his chin, her fingers cool as moonlight. "The witches of Ashshade owe your blood a debt. Come."
---
Inside the coven's sanctuary—a manor stitched into nature itself—Kael lay bare on an altar of black crystal and white heather. The witches circled him in silence, their chants seeping into the floor, calling ancestral energy from the roots below.
Kael's shirt had been torn open, revealing the sigil-burn Elias left behind. It pulsed red with each heartbeat. Heat flickered across his skin like embers.
A witch—young, with copper hair and curiosity sharp in her gaze—pressed her palm to his abdomen.
Kael gasped as magic surged. His hips arched involuntarily. "What are you—?"
"Shh," she whispered, eyes glowing. "The child… it's not only fae. There's vampire magic too. Ancient. Wild. Lustful."
Kael shivered as the energy rippled through him, fiery and sensual. Every nerve felt ignited. The witches' magic slipped under his skin like fingers, brushing intimate places, teasing. Heat coiled between his thighs.
Another witch leaned in, lips grazing his ear. "The bond between you and the vampire… it wasn't just lust. It was a pact."
Kael whimpered as a vision struck him—a flash of Elias over him, dominant and divine, his fangs at Kael's throat, his hips driving deep with raw need.
The witches' chant quickened, mixing power with pleasure. Kael's body responded as if remembering Elias's every touch. He moaned, muscles clenching, back arching.
The copper-haired witch's hand lingered low, reading energy... but her touch was maddeningly sensual. Kael bucked, his breath ragged, caught between magic and want.
Then silence. The witches stepped back, letting him drop gently onto the warm stone.
"The child's energy is attracting hunters from both realms," the crone said gravely. "You need more than sanctuary. You need protection. And your vampire… he must come to you. Or you'll both burn."
Kael opened his eyes, dazed and flushed. "He doesn't even know…"
"Oh, he knows," the copper-haired witch said softly. "The mark is awake. He'll come. And when he does… the forest will tremble."
Kael's hand fell to his belly, the pulse beneath stronger than ever. Elias would come.
He had to.
---