The days bled into weeks, each one bringing us closer to the Blood Moon.
Cassandra worked tirelessly in the Archive, her amber eyes growing distant as she accessed memories millennia old. She emerged only for brief meals and even briefer conversations, her mind elsewhere, her body present but her spirit lost in the past.
"I'm finding things," she told us one evening, her voice barely above a whisper. "Terrible things. The Blood Moon isn't just a prophecy—it's a cycle. It's happened before. Many times."
"What happened?" Mira asked gently.
"Death. Destruction. The veil between worlds thinning enough for things to cross over." Cassandra's eyes focused on us, and I saw fear in their depths. "The last time was ten thousand years ago. It nearly destroyed everything—vampires, humans, hybrids. Only a coalition of the strongest beings in existence managed to stop it."
"Who?" I asked.
"The Ancients." Cassandra's voice was flat. "Before they became what they are. Before the corruption, the manipulation, the fear. They were heroes once. They saved the world."
The room fell silent. The idea that our greatest enemies had once been our greatest allies was almost too much to process.
"What changed?" Edward asked.
"The same thing that always changes beings who live too long." Cassandra's eyes were sad. "They forgot what they were fighting for. The fear of what might come again consumed them. They decided that the only way to prevent another Blood Moon was to control everything—every hybrid, every vampire, every potential threat. They became the very thing they'd once fought against."
"So they're not our enemies now?" Mira's voice was skeptical.
"No. They're still our enemies. But understanding them—understanding where they came from—might help us defeat what's coming." Cassandra leaned forward, her intensity palpable. "The ritual the hunters described—the mass sacrifice—it's designed to open the veil completely. Not just thin it, but tear it open. If they succeed, there's no closing it. Ever."
"Then we stop them." I stood, my decision made. "Whatever it takes."
The next two months were the most intense of our lives.
Every hybrid capable of fighting trained relentlessly. Guardians shared ancient combat techniques. Vampire allies arrived from across Europe, drawn by Darius's calls and the growing threat. Even the Volturi sent representatives—Jane and Alec, their deadly gifts a valuable addition to our forces.
Mira coordinated the defenses, her strategic mind finding patterns and possibilities the rest of us missed. She positioned lookouts on every peak, established supply lines through hidden passes, created fallback positions in case our main defense failed.
"She's brilliant," Edward observed one afternoon, watching her work. "A natural leader."
"She's been waiting centuries for something to fight for." I smiled, pride swelling in my chest. "Now she has it."
Cassandra continued her work in the Archive, emerging with fragments of information that slowly built into a picture of what we faced. The Blood Moon, she learned, was tied to an ancient entity—something older than vampires, older than humans, older than the Earth itself.
"They call it the Devourer," she said, her voice shaking. "It exists between worlds, always hungry, always waiting. When the veil thins, it reaches through—feeds on whatever it can find. The last time, it took thousands before it was stopped."
"How was it stopped?"
"A sacrifice." Cassandra's eyes met mine. "A being powerful enough to seal the rift gave themselves—their essence, their soul, everything they were—to close it. The Ancients who led the fight... they were never the same after. The sacrifice broke something in them. Made them what they became."
The implication hung in the air like a death sentence. To stop the Devourer, someone would have to die.
That night, I found Edward on the ramparts, staring at the moon.
It was waxing, growing fuller each night—not yet red, but close. Soon. Too soon.
"You're thinking about the sacrifice," he said without turning.
"I'm thinking about a lot of things." I settled beside him, my hand finding his. "But yeah. That's part of it."
"There has to be another way."
"Cassandra's been through every memory in the Archive. There isn't."
"Then we make one." He turned to face me, his golden eyes blazing. "I'm not letting you die, Ellie. I'm not letting anyone die. We'll find another way."
"Edward—"
"No." His voice was fierce. "I've spent a hundred years alone. A hundred years believing I'd never feel anything again. And then I found you. You're my life, Ellie. My reason for existing. I won't let you throw that away."
I pulled him into my arms, holding him tight against my chest. "I'm not throwing anything away. I'm protecting the people I love. That's what you taught me—that love is worth fighting for. Worth dying for."
"Don't." His voice broke. "Please don't."
I held him until the stars began to fade, and the moon sank below the horizon. I held him and said nothing, because there was nothing left to say.
Three days before the Blood Moon, the first attack came.
They emerged from the forest at dusk—hundreds of them, vampires and hybrids twisted by the Devourer's influence, their eyes black as void, their movements jerky and wrong. They threw themselves at our defenses with suicidal ferocity, caring nothing for their own lives, only for reaching us.
We fought for hours.
Jasper led the defense, his gift allowing him to sense the attackers' emotions—or lack thereof. "They're empty," he reported during a brief lull. "No fear, no pain, no self-preservation. Just hunger. Just the Devourer's will."
"How do we stop something like that?" Emmett asked, his massive frame streaked with black blood.
"You don't." Selene's voice came from behind us—Selene, who we'd thought dead. She emerged from the shadows, her amber eyes blazing with an ancient fire. "You endure. You survive. And when the moment comes, you strike at the heart."
"Selene!" I ran to her, throwing my arms around her. "You're alive—how—"
"No time." She pulled back, her face grim. "I've been tracking the Devourer's movements, learning its patterns. The Blood Moon is almost here—tomorrow night, at its peak. That's when they'll make their move."
"Where?"
"The valley where we fought the Ancients. The veil is thinnest there—something about the battle, the deaths, the power that was released. They'll gather the hybrids they've taken and perform the ritual at moonrise."
"Then that's where we'll be." I turned to my family, my soldiers, my friends. "We move at dawn."
The valley looked different in daylight.
The bodies were gone—we'd buried them months ago—but the scars remained. Burned earth, shattered trees, the memory of violence etched into every surface.
"They're here," Jasper murmured, his eyes scanning the tree line. "Hundreds of them. Waiting."
"Then let's not keep them waiting." I raised my hand, signaling our forces forward.
We moved into the valley in formation—hybrids and guardians in the center, vampires on the flanks, our most powerful fighters at the front. The Devourer's servants emerged to meet us, their black eyes empty, their movements synchronized.
The battle began.
It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.
The servants felt no pain, no fear, no hesitation. They fought until they couldn't move, then kept fighting. They dragged our people down with their bodies, used their last breaths to wound and kill. They were relentless, terrifying, seemingly unstoppable.
But so were we.
Mira fought like a woman possessed, her centuries of isolation channeled into devastating precision. Cassandra moved beside her, using her gift to anticipate attacks before they came. The Cullens fought as a unit, their centuries of practice making them deadly efficient.
And Edward—Edward never left my side.
We fought together, our bond allowing us to move as one. He'd warn me of attacks I couldn't see; I'd cover his blind spots. We were a single entity with two bodies, and the Devourer's servants fell before us like wheat before a scythe.
But there were always more.
We reached the ritual site as the moon began to rise.
It hung on the horizon, swollen and red—the Blood Moon. Below it, on a raised platform of black stone, stood a figure I recognized.
The Priestess.
She was different now—her eyes black as void, her skin pale as death, her movements jerky and wrong. The Devourer had taken her completely, consumed what was left of the woman who'd once been Darius's sister.
"Eleanor." Her voice was wrong—layered, echoing, as if something spoke through her. "You've come. Good. The ritual requires your blood."
"You're not having it." I stepped forward, Edward close behind me. "Whatever you are, whatever you want—you're not getting it."
"Foolish child." The Priestess—the Devourer—laughed. "I've been planning this for millennia. You think you can stop me with courage and love?"
"I think I can stop you with this." I raised my hand, and fire blossomed from my palm—the ancient fire Cassandra had discovered, the one that burned souls as well as bodies.
The Devourer screamed.
The sound was terrible—layered, echoing, full of pain and rage. The fire spread, consuming the Priestess's body, but the Devourer wasn't finished. It reached out, tendrils of darkness shooting toward me—
Edward stepped in front of me.
The darkness hit him full force, lifting him off his feet, throwing him against the black stone. I screamed, running to him, but it was too late. His golden eyes were closing, his body going still.
"Edward!"
He didn't respond.
Something broke inside me.
I felt it—a snap, a release, a flood of power I'd never accessed before. The bond blazed to life, connecting me to Mira, to Cassandra, to every hybrid in the valley. Their strength flowed into me, and mine into them. We became one—one mind, one heart, one purpose.
The Devourer saw it, felt it, and for the first time, it knew fear.
"Impossible—"
"You wanted a sacrifice." I stood, my eyes blazing with power. "You're about to get one."
I threw myself at it.
The battle that followed existed outside time.
I fought the Devourer with everything I had—fire and fury, love and loss, the combined strength of every hybrid who'd ever lived. It fought back with millennia of hatred, with the darkness of a thousand worlds, with the hunger that had consumed galaxies.
But it had never faced anything like me.
The bond sang in my veins, connecting me to everyone I loved. Edward's still form, Mira's fierce determination, Cassandra's ancient wisdom, my mother's unwavering love. They were with me, in me, part of me. I was not alone.
The Devourer screamed as I tore through its defenses, as I reached for its heart—the core of darkness that sustained it across eternity. I wrapped my hands around it and squeezed.
"No—you can't—I am eternal—"
"You were." I pulled, and the darkness shattered.
The valley fell silent.
The Devourer's servants crumbled to dust. The Priestess's body lay still on the black stone, finally at peace. And Edward—
I ran to him, my heart pounding. He was still, so still, his golden eyes closed. I pressed my ear to his chest, listening for any sound, any sign—
A heartbeat.
Slow, faint, but there. A heartbeat.
"Edward?" I whispered.
His eyes fluttered open. "Ellie." His voice was weak but real. "Did we win?"
"We won." Tears streamed down my face. "We won."
He smiled—that rare, beautiful expression—and pulled me close.
"Told you," he murmured. "Together."
"Together," I agreed.
The moon set over the valley, painting the sky in shades of gold and rose. A new day was dawning.
We had lost so much—too much. But we had also gained something precious: each other, our family, our future.
The Blood Moon had risen. And we had survived.
End of Chapter Eight