The room was dim, but warm. Outside, dusk had draped itself over the forest like a veil. Inside, the only sound was the soft crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of wind against the stained-glass windows of Soraya's house.
Kyra sat cross-legged on the old velvet settee, still reeling from the truth she had learned. Her gaze flickered between the crescent moon pendant now resting on her chest and Soraya, who stood by the window with her arms folded.
"You said they cast her out," Kyra murmured. "But what really happened when they found out?"
Soraya turned, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she walked over and sat across from Kyra, her hands clasped tightly together.
"It wasn't just shame," she said softly. "It was betrayal—of law, of magic, of blood."
Kyra leaned forward, heart pounding.
"They didn't just exile her. When the truth came out… it nearly broke the Covenant itself. Witches and vampires had kept a fragile peace for centuries. And Elira's love for Lucien—unsanctioned, unprotected by the rites—was seen as a dangerous spark in a forest of old grudges."
She looked directly at Kyra.
"They dragged them to the Grand Circle. The Elders of both lineages. A judgment not seen in over two hundred years."
Kyra's breath caught.
And then the world around her faded again, the fire dimmed, and her mother's memories pulled her into the past.
---
FLASHBACK
The air in the coven crackled with magic and fear. Lanterns swung violently on their hooks as the wind howled through the village. A gathering had been called—sudden, urgent. Witches in deep emerald robes lined the narrow paths, whispering frantically.
At the center of the square, the Councilor—Lady Idrina—stood tall and severe, her eyes narrowed, her silver braid coiled like a serpent around her shoulder.
"Elira of the High Blood," she said aloud, her voice echoing through the air, "step forward."
Elira did not move.
She was frozen, heart hammering in her chest. Beside her, Lucien stood silently, defiant, his eyes scanning the crowd as if daring anyone to lay a hand on her.
From the shadows emerged three young witches—sentinels of the coven—dragging behind them a small woven basket.
In it lay a crimson-stained cloth… and a sealed bottle of blood. Elira recognized it instantly.
The blood from her secret ritual. The bottle she'd hidden after her last meeting with Lucien.
Lady Idrina lifted the bottle with two fingers as if it disgusted her.
"This," she said coldly, "was found in the Hollow Glen. Near the vampire border."
Gasps rippled through the coven.
Elira stepped forward at last. "You had no right—"
"You had no right!" Idrina thundered. "You, who have not been sired! You, who dared to lie with the vampire prince and carry his child!"
At that, the crowd broke into shouts and murmurs. Some clutched their chests. Others turned their heads in shame.
Elira's aunt wept silently at the edge of the crowd.
"You were not of age," Idrina continued. "You had not been sired. The rite was sacred. Only at twenty-five may a witch be sired—blessed by the blood of her lineage—and become capable of bearing a vampire's child without risking the blood curse."
Elira's knees nearly buckled, but Lucien's hand on her back steadied her.
"I love her," he said boldly, stepping forward. "And I will not deny our bond."
"Silence, vampire," Idrina snapped, her face pale with rage. "You were forbidden from entering our realm without a treaty. Yet you've seduced one of our own and created something… aberrant."
Lucien bared his fangs, but Elira stepped in front of him.
"I chose him," she said. "And I chose the child that grows in me. I would rather burn than deny them."
Suddenly, a new wave of energy surged through the square. The earth itself seemed to tremble.
Then, from the northern path, dark-cloaked figures began to appear—tall, regal, and deathly silent. The vampires had arrived.
The Council of Elders. Seven in total. Their presence turned the wind cold.
From among them stepped an older vampire in a grey coat—eyes the color of steel.
"Lucien," he said gravely, "you've forced our hand."
Lucien stared at him. "Father."
Elira gasped.
The entire square fell to a hush.
"You knew?" Idrina's voice was sharp with horror. "The prince? You dared lie with him?"
"She didn't know at first," Lucien said quickly. "And by the time she did, it was too late to stop loving me."
Elder Varos—Lucien's father—turned to Idrina. "This is no longer a matter for her coven alone. This is a breach between both bloodlines. And it must be judged as such."
"Agreed," Idrina said. "Take them."
"No!" Elira cried out as guards—witch and vampire alike—rushed toward them. Magic sizzled through the air, but Lucien did not fight back. Instead, he took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and whispered, "Don't be afraid."
Chains laced with spellwork wrapped around Elira's wrists. A silver brand glowed on Lucien's neck, suppressing his strength.
The crowd watched in silence now, some weeping, others glaring with disgust.
Together, they were dragged toward the towering portal stone that shimmered beyond the hill. Beyond it lay the hidden Chamber of Judgement—a place untouched by time, reserved only for matters that threatened the ancient laws.
A judgment was coming.
And with it, the fate of two hearts—and one unborn child—would tip the balance of an ancient world.
---
Back to Present
Kyra's mouth was dry. She clutched the edge of the seat, her body stiff as the vision faded.
"They took them," she whispered.
Soraya nodded slowly. "To be judged. By those who claimed to protect the balance, but feared the birth of something they could not control."
"And what happened to them?" Kyra asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Soraya looked at her with quiet sorrow.
"That, child, is a truth even I do not fully know. Because what happened next… was erased from every book, sealed from every memory."
Kyra felt a coldness slide down her spine.
But deep inside, something else stirred—something fierce, and ancient, and awakened.
Whatever judgment was passed that day… its consequences were still echoing. Through her.