**"Mark of Blood" – Chapter 2: The Hollow Star**
The crimson light tore through Keth's vision like a scream.
When it faded, they were no longer in the marble hall. Stone walls pressed close around them, rough-hewn and damp with mildew. The air smelled of wet earth and old blood. A dungeon—or a tomb.
Across the small cell, the vampire lord stood with his back to them, shoulders tense beneath his dark coat.
"You're awake," he said, without turning.
Keth's fingers found the dagger still clutched in their hand. Their body moved before thought could catch up—
The vampire sighed. A flick of his wrist, and an invisible force slammed Keth back against the wall. The dagger clattered to the stones.
"I'd prefer not to break you again so soon," he said, finally turning. His silver eyes glowed faintly in the dark. "But I will."
Keth spat blood. "Where am I?"
"A place even gods forget." The vampire lord stepped closer. "You bear the Crimson Mark. Do you know what that means?"
Keth remembered the sigil burning into their chest. They said nothing.
The vampire's smile was knife-sharp. "It means you're either a weapon... or a sacrifice."
---
**The torchlight guttered as the vampire lord spoke.**
His name was Valtheris. Thirdborn son of a dead kingdom. Keth listened with their back against the cold stone, fingers testing the limits of the invisible bonds holding them.
"The Mark appears once every century," Valtheris said, pacing the cell. "It chooses someone from the Otherworld—your world—and binds them to this one."
"Why?" Keth growled.
Valtheris stopped. "To open the Crimson Gate."
A shiver crawled down Keth's spine. The way he said it—like the words themselves were cursed.
"And what's behind the Gate?"
Valtheris's fangs glinted. "Power enough to remake the world. Or unmake it."
Keth laughed, sharp and broken. "So I'm some kind of key?"
"You're a flaw." Valtheris was suddenly inches away, his breath cold against Keth's throat. "The Mark should have gone to one of the blood-born. Not a nameless stray from the Otherworld."
Keth bared their teeth. "Lucky me."
---
**The pain came without warning.**
One moment Keth was straining against their bonds—the next, fire erupted in their veins. They arched off the wall with a strangled cry as the Mark on their chest burned white-hot.
Valtheris watched, unblinking, as Keth thrashed.
"It's waking," he murmured. "Faster than I expected."
Keth's vision blurred. Shadows writhed at the edges of their sight, twisting into shapes—a throne of bones, a gate wreathed in flame, a woman with eyes like dying stars—
Then, silence.
Keth slumped forward, the bonds gone as suddenly as they'd appeared. They caught themself on hands and knees, gasping.
Valtheris crouched before them. "What did you see?"
Keth lifted their head. "Go to hell."
A beat. Then Valtheris laughed, low and dangerous. "I think I'll keep you after all."
He stood, tossing a small object at Keth's feet. A blackened key.
"There are three ways out of this cell," Valtheris said, moving toward the door. "The key. The window. Or death." His smile was a promise. "Choose wisely."
The door slammed shut behind him.
Keth stared at the key. Then at the small, barred window high on the wall. Moonlight streamed through, painting the stones silver.
And beyond it—the distant howl of wolves.