I recite the prophecy that was the entire reason my family was killed:

“Born of two worlds, blood and magic entwined,

This child of darkness shall see the throne declined.

For when day bleeds into endless night,

Her power shall end the tyrant’s might.”

My words echo, defiant and bold, reverberating against stone walls adorned with ancient tapestries. Power surges through my veins as though it is liquid fire. I pull at the magic within me, feeling it respond like a loyal beast awakening from slumber.

Shock ripple through the assembly like a wave.

The words tumble from my lips, ancient and commanding, as I continue the chant that will activate the spell I secretly embedded throughout this cursed hall. Snow bursts through the arched windows in swirling gusts, carried on an unnatural wind that howls like a wolf baying at the moon. Symbols etched into the floor and walls begin to glow an eerie emerald, casting the room in an otherworldly light.

My words begin to drown out the king and crown prince’s own chanting as my power overwhelms theirs.

The magic ignites within me, coursing through my veins, and I raise several feet in the air as power radiates from my body in shimmering waves. My hair whips about me as if alive, tendrils of inky black with strands of silver sparking like lightning. Below, vampires stalk toward me, their eyes feral. One leaps upward, claws extended, only to be blasted back by a bolt of energy from my fingertips.

Luna is below me in an instant, her fangs bared, swiping at any who dare approach. A fierce snarl rips from her throat.Touch my Thorn, and you shall not live to regret it!

On the floor below, Draven roars, felling vampires left and right in a desperate bid to protect me. Our bond hums between us, his determination fueling my own. I’ve never been stronger. None of us have.

The chant pours from my lips, guttural words in a language not heard for a millennium. The markings flare brighter, the windows rattling in their frames. This is the moment I prepared for. The king thought he defeated me, but he only unleashed my true power. Now, we will see how prophecy spoke truth.

As the final syllable leaves my lips, the very stones of the throne room shudder. The prince and king stare at me, their smirks fading into terror as they sense the shifting tides of power.

27

Draven

The air in the grand ballroom is electric, buzzing with an energy that prickles at my skin and sets my senses on edge beyond anything I have ever experienced before. I can hear the softest whisper of fabric against the marble floor, the quietest intake of breath from the assembled crowd, and above all, the rhythmic cadence of Thorn’s chant as she floats ethereally on the balcony. In the chaos around me, I shouldn’t be able to pinpoint each sound, but somehow, I can. My eyes remain locked on Thorn, her silhouette backlit by the moonlight that spills through the grand arched windows.

The marks, those intricate symbols glowing from the stone walls, begin to pulse with an otherworldly glow. It is like watching the heartbeat of the castleitself, each throb of light sending a wave of power that reverberates through the room. The colors shift, dancing between shades of silver and a luminescent blue that mirror the night sky just beyond our reach.

“Show off,” I whisper under my breath, reluctantly admiring Thorn’s display of raw magic.

The marks grow brighter still, their luminance painting the faces of the onlookers with awe and not a small amount of fear. The symbols seem to twist and turn, alive with the force of Thorn’s incantations.

As the chanting reaches a crescendo, the entire room is bathed in the radiant glow of the marks, casting long, wavering shadows behind the columns of nobles and courtiers clutching their finery. You can almost taste the magic in the air, thick and heady like the scent of a storm on the wind.

Thorn commands the mystical energies swirling around us. The light from the marks etch every line of concentration on her face, every determined crease, illuminating her as the true focal point of this supernatural maelstrom we find ourselves caught in.

A vampire lunges with fangs bared, a blur of dark fabric and pale skin. I pivot on my heel, my nails elongating into claws. They meet flesh in a whisperingsigh as the vampire staggers back, its hiss fading into a gurgle. I grunt, eyes flicking back up to where Thorn is suspended in midair, her silhouette framed against the luminous glyphs that dance like fireflies on a summer’s eve.

“Stay close,” I murmur, more to myself than to Luna, who has already materialized at my side, her fur glowing ethereal in the ballroom’s enchanted light. She doesn’t need the reminder. She is as intent on protecting Thorn as I am. Her sharp teeth gleam, a silent promise to any who dare threaten her charge.

Right behind you,comes Luna’s telepathic response, cutting through the chaos like a knife through butter.

I am shocked. The occasional awkward silence while they watched each other made me assume Luna and Thorn communicate telepathically, but never before has Luna spoken to me. Can I now because of the fated mate connection, or did Luna just never deem me worthy? Either way, clever girl. Never one to miss a beat.

My gaze never wavers from Thorn, even as I parry another attack. The connection between us is a pulsating chord of energy, taut with the strain of battleyet unbreakable in its resolve. She is the reason my heart beat, the drum to which I march, and if anything happens to her…

“Over my dead body,” I growl, spinning to catch another bloodsucker off guard.

Luna is a white streak of fury, darting between legs and snapping at any who ventures too close to our corner of the room.

I taunt another assailant, knocking him off balance with a well-placed kick. My father’s loyal vampires are relentless, but so are we. Every time one gets too close, Luna will harry it, giving me the opening I need to strike. We are poetry in motion, a symphony of snarls and slashes set against the backdrop of Thorn’s incantations.