The boy's body swung from the Great Oak. Rope bit into his ankle. Head dangling like rotten fruit. Blood dripped onto roots that drank it *greedily*.
I watched from the palace balcony. Cold stone under my palms. Night air sharp with salt and… *fear*. Good. Fear kept cattle docile.
Below, the clans scattered. Werewolves melted into shadows. Fairies zipped away like startled fireflies. Humans scuttled—rats to sewers. Only my vampires lingered. Pale faces tilted up. Eyes wide. *Hungry*.
*"Bring the fairies,"* I said.
My captain, Silas—fangs still red from the boy—bowed. *"Sire? The fields?"*
*"The fields."*
They came chained. Wings clipped. Magic cuffed. Fairies wept silver tears. One spat at my boot. *"You rot the earth, blood-drinker!"*
I backhanded her. Bone crunched. She crumpled.
*"Silence."* I gripped her hair, hauled her up. *"Your magic feeds my crops. Or would you rather bleed?"*
Her eyes darted to the Oak. To the boy. She shuddered.
I shoved her toward the fields. *"Make the grain grow. Make it *thrive*."*
She raised cuffed hands. Glow seeped from her palms. Sickly green. Forced magic. The wheat shoots writhed, shot up tall as spears. Plump. Golden.
But the air curdled. Garlic—thick from the fields—turned *rancid*. Vampires gagged. Silas retched.
*"Sire, the curse…"* Silas choked. *"The old tales… drinking human blood poisons the land. Sunlight will burn us—"*
*"Tales told by weaklings."* I sliced my palm. Dripped blood onto the fairy's wing. She screamed as it sizzled. *"This is power."*
---
**Three Moons Later**
The Blood Moon rose. Fat. Red. Like a gouged eye.
I stood at the pit's edge. Dug deep into the village square. Below, five werewolves snarled. Chained to stone pillars. Ulric's kin. His pack.
*"Alpha blood,"* I told the crowd. Clans pressed together. Shaking. *"Sacrificed tonight. So our land *lives*."*
Lies. The land was dying. Crops withered. Garlic bloomed black. Sunlight now *blistered* vampire skin. But fear? Fear grew fat.
*"Begin!"*
Vampires shoved the first wolf forward. Grey-furred. Young. He fought. Teeth snapping.
Silas raised the obsidian dagger. Plunged.
Blood hit the pit's dirt. *Hissed*. Steam rose. Red mist.
The wolf howled—not pain, but *rage*. Then silence.
One by one. Throat slit. Heart torn out. Blood poured into grooves carved like spiderwebs. Filling the sacred runes.
The moon pulsed. *Drank* the blood-light.
A woman screamed. Human. Clutching a child. *"Stop! They protected us from the forest beasts!"*
I nodded. Guards dragged her forward. Kicked her to her knees at the pit's edge.
*"Watch,"* I said. *"Or join them."*
She sobbed. The child wailed.
The last wolf—Ulric's mate—lifted her head. Amber eyes locked on mine.
*"Ralph,"* she growled. Blood frothed on her muzzle. *"The mirror sees you. It *hungers*."*
I froze. *Mirror?*
Too late. Silas cut her throat. Blood fountained. Hit the runes.
The earth *shuddered*.
Beneath the palace—deep in the black vaults—something *scraped*. Glass on stone.
---
**Dawn**
Sunlight stabbed the horizon. I hissed. Skin smoking. *Burning*.
Fairies huddled in the blighted fields. Wings dull. Magic draining.
*"Please, Majesty,"* one whispered. *"The garlic… it chokes us. Let us rest—"*
I grabbed her throat. Squeezed. *"Bloom it."*
She wept. Glowed. Garlic shoots burst from soil—black, reeking, poison.
Humans scurried past. Hoods up. Faces hidden. Daytime was *theirs* now. Night? Mine.
Silas approached. Pale. Blisters on his cheeks. *"Sire… the mirror vault. The guards… they hear whispers."*
*"Whispers?"*
*"A voice. Calling your name."*
I smiled. Let it call. All things that hungered… I understood.
---
**Midnight**
I descended. Down, down, down. Steps carved into bedrock. Air thick with tomb-rot.
The vault. Walls slick with mold. And there—on a pedestal of bone—it sat.
The mirror ball. Clouded. Dark. But… *wait*.
I stepped closer. My reflection swam in the glass. Not me. *Older*. Eyes black pits. Mouth a slash of teeth.
*"Ralph…"* it breathed. Not sound. *Vibration* in my skull.
I touched the glass. Ice-cold.
*"Hungry…"* it sighed. *"So hungry…"*
Behind me, Silas whimpered. *"Sire, don't—"*
*"Bring a human,"* I said. *"A bleeder."*
The sacrifice screamed as I slit his wrists. Held him against the mirror. Blood smeared the glass.
The mirror *drank*. Cloudiness cleared. For a heartbeat, I saw—
—A palace crumbling. Lightning. *My* face screaming. Trapped.
Then darkness.
The mirror ball glowed. Dull red. Satisfied.
*"Soon,"* it whispered.
Above, in the village, a wolf howled. Not mourning.
*Warning.*