The first light of dawn cast golden streaks across Ravenshade Manor, but inside the Duke's chambers, the air was thick—heavy with unspoken words and the scent of longing.
Seraphine stood by the window, draped in a deep burgundy cloak, her fingers gripping the satchel containing the scent-masking potion she had brewed. The journey ahead to Santossa was not just dangerous—it was a plunge into the unknown. Her parents, whom she barely remembered, lived in a land ruled by ancient customs and the house of Lycans.
Carlos waited by the car outside, giving her one last moment alone.
With Alaric.
He approached her in silence, his boots soft against the marbled floor. The weight of the upcoming separation pressed against his chest like iron.
"You'll have Caveen to welcome you in Santossa. I've sent word," he said, voice low but steady. "He'll guide you through the Lycan territory and bring you to your parents, they are waiting."
Seraphine turned, her golden eyes shimmering with something deeper than fear. "Yes"
Her throat tightened. "And Celestine?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "She will remain here. As a shadow. Nothing more."
A flicker of fire danced in her gaze. "Don't let her close, Alaric."
"I won't," he promised. "There is only one woman whose touch I crave."
Her breath hitched.
"I'm not letting you go into Santossa without something to carry me with you," he added softly, stepping closer. "Let me strengthen you, one last time."
Seraphine's lips parted. "You want me to feed?"
His hand gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Take it. Take what you need."
She didn't hesitate.
Drawing close, her arms wrapped around his waist as her lips brushed the curve of his neck. With a breathless murmur, her fangs slid in, and Alaric let out a low, guttural sound—half pain, half surrender.
His fingers clutched the back of her cloak as their bond surged to life—an unbreakable tether drawn in crimson threads.
Her feeding was gentle but intense, and when she finally pulled back, her lips glistened and her cheeks were flushed.
"I'll carry you in my veins," she whispered.
"And I'll carry you in my war," he replied, eyes glowing with a crimson sheen.
Their foreheads touched for a moment—an unspoken prayer.
Then, they leave towards the main door.
The car wheels creaked. Carlos opened the door and gave them both a nod.
It was time.
Alaric held Seraphine's hand a heartbeat longer. "Be swift. Be safe. Bring them to our side. We need every ally we can get."
She squeezed his hand back. "Don't let the Council see what we are."
"I never will."
As she climbed into the car, she didn't look back. But the tears she refused to let fall gleamed in her eyes like glass.
Carlos gave Alaric a silent nod before joining her.
The gates of Ravenshade closed behind them, but the bond they left behind still throbbed—alive, dangerous, and hidden from the world.
The air of Santossa carried the scent of sea salt and secrets. Veiled beneath a potion of scent concealment, Seraphine stepped down from the car, her cloak drawn close to hide the faint gleam of her vampire aura. Carlos followed beside her, eyes scanning the streets of the coastal capital—an ancient city where Lycans scent where everywhere, where the past was stitched into every cobblestone and whispering alley.
"I never imagined I'd be back here," Seraphine murmured, her voice just above a breath. "And not like this."
Carlos offered her a reassuring smile. "Whatever happens, you're not alone."
Ahead, the gates of House Landon loomed—ornate, silver-veined with vines enchanted to react only to those with royal blood. As they neared, the vines shimmered and unfurled like welcoming arms, sensing Seraphine's presence.
The gates creaked open.
Caveen and Lysandra welcome them and ushered the two toward the sanctuary and to wait for their parent.
Carl stepped forward first, a surge of restless energy in his chest. His boots crunched the moss-lined path, each step toward the truth heavier than the last. Beside him, Maika walked silently, her aura simmering — equal parts rage, longing, and hope.
They emerged into the clearing, and there she was.
Seraphine stood in the center, her long midnight dark hair loose over her shoulders, a soft glow clinging to her form like moonlight woven into flesh. She turned slowly, sensing the approaching auras.
Her eyes met Maika's first — and time stopped.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. The wind itself seemed to hold its breath.
"…Mother?" Seraphine whispered.
Maika's face crumbled. She stepped forward, arms trembling. "Elira…"
And Seraphine ran.
She collided into her mother's arms, sobbing like the child she never got to be, like the daughter who had longed for a mother's lullaby in the cold nights of the Delacroix halls. Maika held her tight, burying her face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her blood, her magic, her soul.
"My baby… my daughter…" Maika wept. "They took you from me. I felt your cry the moment you were born—and then… silence."
Carl stood frozen, his golden eyes wide. His lips parted, but no sound came. Then Seraphine turned to him, her face streaked with tears.
"Father…?"
His voice broke. "Elira. You have your mother's light… but your eyes are mine."
She ran into his arms next, and for the first time in two decades, Carl—the fierce Lycan Alpha—fell to his knees and held his daughter with trembling arms. His tears soaked into her hair as he whispered her name over and over.
"I searched for you," he choked. "I hunted every lead, tore through every lie. They said you died—burned in the cradle. But I knew. I knew they were lying."
"I didn't remember," Seraphine said, clutching him. "Dreams are coming. Your voices. Your warmth. The lullaby…"
Maika stepped closer, her hands glowing faintly with lavender light. "Let me show you," she said gently. "The truth of your birth—the joy before the sorrow."
She placed her fingertips to Seraphine's forehead. A soft pulse of magic surged, and memories bloomed into light.
---
The sanctuary shimmered, transforming before their eyes into a glowing vision of the past. A younger Maika stood radiant, her belly round with life, her hands clasped with Carl's.
"She will be strong," Carl said, kneeling before her stomach. "I'll teach her to track before she walks."
"And I'll teach her to read the stars," Maika laughed. "She'll be both fire and moonlight."
A cradle stood ready in the corner, etched with witch runes and Lycan symbols—two worlds merged in harmony.
But then the light shifted.
Shadowed figures emerged. The Council, robed and cold-eyed, arrived like a storm. The air turned bitter, the cradle cracked in half, and Maika's screams echoed as they tore her newborn from her arms. They declared the child a threat, her bloodline too volatile, her existence forbidden.
"I begged them," the past Maika sobbed, "Let me hold her one last time. They… they sealed her memory, and vanished."
The vision shattered.
---
Back in the sanctuary, Seraphine collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. "They stole everything… My name. My family. My soul."
Carl lifted her up, gripping her shoulders gently. "But they couldn't kill the truth. And now it's here—you're here. And we won't let them take you again."
Maika brushed her hair back. "We grieved you for years, Elira. But we never stopped believing. And now—our hope has returned."
---
Carlos approached slowly from the tree line, silent as shadow.His gaze flicked between Maika and Carl.
"You are Alarics brother? Victor our Ancestor" he said, voice soft. and bows to him.
Maika turned, her eyes still misty. "You protected her… all this time. Thank you."
"She was once my light in my dark life" Carlos said."but she is always owned by Alaric".
Seraphine stepped beside him," We are here to talk to both of you"
Maika studied her, the strength in her daughter's eyes. "Forming an alliance that Caveen mentioned?"
"Yes Mother" Seraphine replied.
Carl crossed his arms, his gaze sharp but accepting. "Then we stand with you.You have are outmost support in this war."
"We stand," Caveen said. "Not as fractured clans. But as one blood. One family."
---