Midnight was still at school, and it was almost time to go home when an unfamiliar heat spread through her body. It wasn't the warmth of exhaustion or fever—it felt deeper, as though something inside her was stirring, pressing against her skin, searching for a way out.
She didn't understand it.
Before she could make sense of the sensation, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Iris and Eris found her moments later—and immediately noticed something was wrong.
"Why are you blushing?" Eris asked, concern creeping into his voice. "Do you feel unwell?"
Iris reached out instinctively and touched Midnight's arm.
"Ouch!" she yelped, pulling her hand back. "Eris, she's burning—her body is so hot!"
The twins exchanged a glance.
"We need to get her home right away," Eris said firmly. "Midnight, can you walk?"
Midnight didn't respond. Her legs refused to move, as if the heat had rooted her in place. Without hesitation, Eris lifted her into his arms. Unlike Iris, Eris felt no pain—his ice-bound power shielding him from the unnatural warmth radiating from Midnight's body.
They were hurrying toward the exit when a familiar voice stopped them.
"Eris, what happened to Midnight?" Mrs. Rocha asked, alarmed by the sight.
"She has a fever," Eris replied calmly. "We're taking her home now."
On the way, Iris quickly called Davon.
"Davon, you need to come home right away," she said anxiously. "Midnight's whole body is hot—her temperature is scalding."
"I'm heading home now," Davon replied without hesitation. "I'll see you there."
When they arrived, Davon was already waiting. Eris carefully lifted Midnight out of the car, and as Davon moved to take her, Iris stopped him.
"Let Eris carry her," she said, then showed him her hand—the skin still red from the burn.
Davon's eyes widened.
Eris brought Midnight straight to her room, with Davon and Iris following closely. She laid Midnight gently on the bed.
After a moment, Midnight spoke, her voice quiet but firm. "Leave me alone for a while. I just want to rest."
Reluctantly, they left the room and went downstairs.
Once she was alone, Midnight pushed herself up and walked to the bathroom. The heat still clung to her skin, relentless and suffocating. She filled the bathtub with water and slowly stepped in.
"This should cool my body," she murmured.
As she sank beneath the surface, her breath caught.
The water grew cool almost instantly.
The burning sensation faded, retreating as though it were responding to her will. Midnight opened her eyes, staring at the rippling surface in disbelief. It was as if the water itself was obeying her.
She closed her eyes again, trying to steady her breathing.
From downstairs, Davon's voice drifted up to her.
"What happened to her? Why did her whole body suddenly heat up? It's impossible for Midnight to get sick."
"Maybe she's just—" Iris began.
"Don't," Eris interrupted. "Let's not talk about it here. She might be able to hear us—even from this far away."
Midnight's heart skipped.
So, they know, she realized. And now they're being careful.
A quiet resolve settled inside her.
Then I'll hide this from them too… until I learn the truth.
She stepped out of the bath and changed into her pajamas. She didn't go downstairs. She wasn't hungry. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, the aftermath of the heat leaving her weak and shaken.
All she wanted now was to rest.
But even as she lay down, Midnight knew—
whatever had awakened inside her would not be so easily ignored.
While Midnight rested upstairs, Davon sat in Iris's house, quietly discussing what had happened to her.
A sense of unease lingered in the room. Midnight's eighteenth birthday was drawing closer, and with it came worries none of them dared to speak too loudly.
"When will Uncle Kael be coming home?" Davon asked, breaking the silence.
"He'll be back before Midnight's birthday," Lyra replied.
That day mattered more than anyone outside the family could understand. Midnight would be eighteen—and on that same night, a blood moon eclipse would stain the sky. Preparations were already underway, careful and deliberate, as though they were bracing for something unseen.
When the conversation ended, Davon excused himself. Midnight might wake up soon.
Back at their house, Davon went straight to the minibar. He took a bottle of red wine and poured himself a glass. As the liquid settled, dark and reflective, his thoughts drifted—pulled backward by memory.
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Davon was still studying medicine then, buried in his coursework, yet unable to forget what had happened in England. The loss of the royal family—and his grandfather—remained vivid, an open wound that refused to heal.
Morvane.
The name alone filled him with anger. He wanted revenge, yet he knew the truth—he was only human. What chance did he have against a being like that?
And worse… what would happen if Morvane succeeded in conquering the world?
How would he protect Midnight?
To Davon, Midnight was not just someone he cared for—she was his true sister, and he loved her more than his own life.
The moment his class ended that day, he went straight home. Without hesitation, he made his way to Kael's office and knocked before stepping inside.
"Uncle Kael," Davon said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "I have a favor to ask."
Kael looked up from the documents spread across his desk. "What is it, Davon?"
"Make me a vampire."
Kael's eyes widened.
After a long moment, he laughed softly. "Are you serious? You may not survive the process. Becoming a vampire isn't something everyone can endure."
"I'm serious," Davon said firmly. "I don't want to grow old and die without ever being able to protect you—or Midnight. I don't want to end up like Grandpa… dying without a fight."
Kael stood, his expression hardening. "Be certain you won't regret this decision."
He approached slowly. In an instant, his fangs emerged, his eyes shifting as he leaned forward and bit into Davon's neck.
Pain tore through him.
When Kael finally pulled away, Davon collapsed to the floor, his body convulsing as venom spread through his veins.
"You must endure it," Kael said quietly. "If you fail… you will die."
Hours passed.
When the writhing finally stopped, Kael approached him, fear tightening his chest. "Davon… Davon."
Davon's eyes opened—no longer the same color they had been before.
Relief flooded Kael as he helped him stand and pulled him into an embrace. "You frightened me," Kael said softly. "I thought I had lost you."
"Thank you, Uncle Kael," Davon replied.
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Davon lifted his glass and took a slow drink of the red wine.
"I will protect you, Midnight," he murmured into the quiet room. "Even if it costs me my life."
In America
The girl who had once collided with Midnight suddenly sat up in bed.
"No!" she cried, her breath sharp as tears welled in her eyes.
The dream clung to her.
She had been running through a forest, her heart pounding as footsteps followed close behind. Without warning, thick roots burst from the ground, wrapping tightly around her wrists and ankles, trapping her in place.
Then a man stepped out from the shadows.
"Do you think you can escape?" he said calmly. "I knew she would try to save you. So I'll use you as bait… to kill her."
Terror seized her.
Just then, a girl appeared—rushing toward her, desperate to help. But before she could reach her, the man lunged forward and grabbed her by the neck.
"I knew you were her weakness," he sneered.
In a single, horrifying moment, the girl's heart was torn from her chest.
The scream ripped free as she woke.
She sobbed into her pillow, her body trembling as the remnants of the nightmare refused to fade. It had felt too real—too vivid. She couldn't understand why such a dream had come to her, or why it had hurt so deeply.
Her thoughts drifted to the girl in the dream.
Was she the same girl she had dreamed of back when she was still in Thailand?
The girl's face remained blurred, unreachable. But the man's face—that she remembered clearly. And that frightened her more than anything.
Eventually, she glanced at the time and forced herself to move. School. She needed to get ready.
After showering and getting dressed, she packed her things and went downstairs.
Her Aunt Eli was already in the kitchen.
"Good morning, Aunt Eli," she greeted softly, offering a small smile.
"I thought you were still sleeping," her aunt replied warmly. "I was about to wake you."
Aunt Eli had taken care of her and Mable after their mother passed away. She had been their mother's closest friend—family in every way that mattered. Their father had left when they were young, choosing another life, another family.
When their mother died, Aunt Eli brought them to America. Mable eventually returned to Thailand to stay close to their mother's grave, but she had chosen to remain—for now. She wanted to study here, to become a professional chef, and one day return to Thailand to work in the finest hotels and restaurants.
Since Aunt Eli owned a restaurant, she helped whenever she could. Cooking grounded her. It gave her something steady to hold on to.
They ate breakfast together, and soon after, she left for school. She preferred commuting on her own—it felt like freedom, even in small ways.
As the bus moved through the city, a memory surfaced.
Her first day in America.
She had stood alone on the terrace of Aunt Eli's house when a breeze brushed past her ears—almost like a whisper.
I'll wait for you. And when we meet again, I'll make sure I recognize you.
At the time, she had wondered if the wind had been playing tricks on her.
Now, she wasn't so sure.
The bus stopped. She stepped down and walked toward her school. She was still new there, yet people were already drawn to her—her kindness, her quiet warmth.
Inside the classroom, she took her seat beside Jamie, who had become her friend almost immediately.
As they waited for their teacher, Jamie leaned closer. "Ford's looking at you again," she whispered. "And… I think he's coming over."
Ford approached, holding a single red rose. "Hi," he said nervously. "This is for you. Can I court you?"
She hesitated—then answered honestly, without knowing why.
"I'm sorry. I can't. Someone is waiting for me… in Thailand."
The words surprised even her.
But she smiled politely, and Ford stepped back, accepting her answer as the teacher entered the room.
Still, she couldn't focus. Her thoughts lingered on what she had said.
Someone is waiting for me.
As sunlight filtered through the classroom window, she lowered her gaze and whispered silently—
If the wind didn't lie to me before, then I hope it can carry this too.
I'll return to Thailand. I promise your waiting won't be in vain. I want to meet you as well—so please… don't grow impatient.
Somewhere far away, destiny listened.