Chapter Two: The Bloodline
Long before Isabelle was born, her mother's family was living a very interesting lives.
They were women of fire and wind, of earth and bone.
"Witches," one part stated.
"Healers," others claimed. But no one ever denied their power.
Their bloodline stretched back through centuries, through worn pages and some old graves.
The women of their line had eyes that glowed too bright and hearts that beat in rhythm with the unknown.
They could speak to the dead, bend shadows, call things that had no name.
But magic, like stories, fades when no one believes in it.
Over time, their power thinned, and each generation held a little less.
By the time Isabelle's mother was born, the fire had turned to ash.
The gifts were called nonsense, superstition. Her mother had wanted nothing to do with it.
She married James Munro for money, and nothing else…
Isabelle had grown up with the stories…Half-believed, half-mocked.
Her mother would tell them sometimes when the lights were low, when Isabelle was sick or scared.
She had never seen magic. Never felt anything strange. Well, not until tonight…
She sat like she was paralysed on the edge of the couch, the letter she was holding still clutched in her hand, and still unopened.
Her eyes weren't on the envelope. They were completely on the twins.
They were seated on the floor, side by side, cradling mugs of warm milk she had handed them minutes ago.
Their cheeks were still blotchy from crying, but they had settled. Their small voices filled the weirdly huge room but not in the way they should have.
Not once their mouths moved, but they were talking somehow.
Isabelle could clearly hear them laugh and whisper, even.
But their lips stayed still…
No sound came from them, at least not aloud.
Yet the words were there, floating clearly in Isabelle's mind, as if someone had whispered them directly into her ear.
'Are we going to stay here forever?'
'She smells like strawberries.'
'I miss Mama.'
Isabelle blinked hard once, then more times…
She pressed her palm to her temple and leaned forward.
"This isn't real," she told herself. "This is stress. This is grief."
But the voices continued.
'She can hear us.'
'She's looking at us weird.'
Isabelle stood up too quickly. Her vision was still blurred. She reached for the armrest to steady herself.
"Okay," she said aloud in a slightly shaken voice. "Okay. Let's all… calm down."
The twins looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. Their mouths parted in confusion, as if they hadn't spoken a word.
But they had. Isabelle had heard them and felt them...
She didn't understand…
Was this the shock? The pressure? A break in her mind? Or something else? Something she wasn't ready to name.
The old stories quickly traveled to her thoughts.
Isabelle stared at the twins again. Same golden hair as Charlotte and same blue eyes.
But there was something… else. Something behind their gaze. Like they knew things no children should know.
Isabelle looked down at the envelope in her hand.
Smooth, cream-colored paper. Her name was written in Charlotte's handwriting, looping and familiar.
Her fingers trembled and lip couldn't stop shaking as she tore it open.
"Wh-what?" She read…And read again.
Her mouth went dry faster than one could expect.
Inside the letter was a short note, with just a few lines.
You must marry Reign Kraus. It's already been arranged. You need to understand who killed me, and If you're reading this, I'm gone…Protect the twins. Do not trust anyone from the company. You'll understand everything soon.
—Charlotte
Isabelle lowered the letter to her lap.
The room felt colder suddenly. As if someone had opened a window that wasn't there.
She stared at the words, reading them again in her mind.
"You must marry Reign Kraus…"
Reign. The man her family had hated for years. Ruthless and dangerous. A name talked behind closed doors in meetings filled with stress. He had been after their company once, that much she remembered. Her father called him a thief. Her mother called him a mistake. Charlotte had dated him once…briefly. Then never spoke about him again.
'Why would she ask this?'
Why would Charlotte after all these years tell her to marry him?
And more importantly… Why had she never told Isabelle anything before?
The questions came fast, one after another, crashing into the next.
Her hands clenched the letter, her eyes stinging again with tears.
She didn't have room in her chest for grief and fear at the same time. And yet, they both live there now…'what on earth?'
A small voice broke the silence.
'Do you think she can understand us, Aurora?'
'I'm hungry, Aron.'
'Will we see mommy again?'
'She said we need to stay with Belle for some time…'
Isabelle still couldn't understand why she was hearing the babies speak…"maybe I hit my head somewhere…hahahaha! Yeah! This is all a dream, and I'm imagining things…haha-hah-hah…"
'Do you think daddy is with mommy?' Aurora asked Aron, and that made Isabelle pause her own hysteria.
They were right…"where's your father?" She muttered to herself.
A baby couldn't just be made by a woman alone, there should've been a man involved…unless he was a deadbeat and good for nothing like her uncle Jason…
'Yes…daddy was helping mommy, remember?'
"Helping mommy?" Isabelle repeated those words, this couldn't be…"what if he died with Charlotte…"
*dum!* *dum!* *dum!*
Someone slammed the door outside, forcing all three to shift their attention.
'Daddy?'