The forest whispered her name.
Every crunch of Maika's boots against the scattered leaves echoed like memories clawing their way back. She led the path in silence, her guide trailing behind like a shadow too respectful to speak. They had crossed three guarded territories, ducked beneath enchanted glyph wards, and descended a slope wrapped in sunken roots just to find this sacred place—a grove hushed by weeping trees, where silence clung to the air like dust on old bones.
And there it stood.
A modest stone cottage, hunched beneath the arch of an ancient elm. Moss clung to its slanted roof like a second skin, and amber light glowed from behind its windows—warm, alive, familiar. Maika's breath caught.
Something about this place pulled at her soul. A whisper in her blood. A lullaby long buried beneath years of darkness and rebirth.
She raised her hand to knock.
But the door creaked open before her knuckles met the wood.
A woman stood there.
Not just any woman—her. The woman from the dreams. Her golden eyes burned like molten fire, and Maika swore she saw her own reflection in their depths—her old self, human and fragile.
Maika froze.
"Genie?" Her voice cracked like dry glass.
"…Lady Maika?" Genie's voice trembled, like it belonged to a ghost seeing another ghost.
The world held its breath.
In an instant, Genie stepped forward, reaching out with shaking hands to cup Maika's face. Her fingers trembled as they traced the curve of her cheek, as if needing proof she was real.
"My lady…" Her breath shuddered. "You—you died. I saw you fall. How can this be?"
Tears welled in Maika's eyes, burning with memories she couldn't place. "I didn't die, Genie. I… I was reborn."
But the joy that bloomed in Genie's face only lasted a moment.
Her body stiffened.
Her golden eyes darkened with fear.
Maika felt it too—the shift in the air, sharp and cold.
"You…" Genie whispered, voice shrinking. "You reek of blood. Of… darkness."
Maika flinched. "Please. Don't be afraid. I didn't choose this—"
"You're a vampire." Genie's voice was barely a breath, filled with both horror and heartbreak.
"Yes," Maika said, pain twisting her words. "I was born one… then reborn human. And now I've returned… to this."
Genie's fingers gripped the doorframe like she might collapse.
Maika pressed forward, voice shaking. "You were there, weren't you? When I gave birth? When I—when I died in that werewolf's hands? I saw your face in my dreams. You were the one I entrusted my child to. That was you."
Genie's eyes spilled over with tears. "You… remember that?"
"Fragments," Maika whispered. "Not enough. But it led me here. And I need the rest—I need to know what happened."
Genie stepped back slowly, torn between the past and present, between her loyalty and her fear. Her eyes darted to the trees—where Maika's guide stood, silently watching.
"My lady," Genie murmured. "This isn't a safe place to speak. Especially… not about the child."
Maika turned to her guide. "Leave me. Return tomorrow."
The figure hesitated, but with a bow, vanished into the trees.
Only then did Genie exhale. "Then come inside. There's so much we must uncover. Before they come looking."
Maika entered the cottage, and warmth wrapped around her like a forgotten embrace.
The hearth crackled gently. Dried herbs hung from wooden beams. Crystal charms swayed softly, singing forgotten lullabies. And in the corner, polished and worn by time, stood a cradle.
A carved wolf.
A crescent moon.
Maika's knees nearly buckled.
"I remember this," she whispered. "The night. The pain. The joy."
Genie brought her tea, her own hands shaking. "He cried the moment your heart stopped. He felt it, my lady. Your death. But your protection spell… it hid us. Long enough to escape."
Maika blinked back tears. "How… how did I know how to cast a spell?"
"You were raised by Lady Vienna," Genie said quietly. "A witch. She taught you more than just spells—she taught you how to protect what you loved."
Maika's eyes widened. "Lady Vienna…? But what about the child? What happened to him?"
Genie hesitated, looking torn—like chains bound her words.
"I'll tell you what I can," she said finally. "But some truths… even I am forbidden to speak."
Maika reached out and took her hand. "Please. I need to know. I'm ready."
Genie pulled her close, pressing their foreheads together, like old friends once separated by death.
"The truth," she whispered, "is far more dangerous than you remember."
---
The Lycan's Burden
The night wind howled outside the Lycan stronghold, carrying the scent of snow and something else—change.
Carl stood alone in his stone chamber, shadows dancing across his face. The fire burned low, but it was not the cold that chilled him.
It was her.
Maika.
She was out there—walking toward the very truth he had long tried to protect her from.Her pain.
His hand clenched around the untouched glass of mead, the golden liquid shaking as thoughts warred inside him. The blood moon ceremony… their bond… her death… their child.
He exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the fire.
"How do I tell her?" he muttered, voice hoarse. "How do I say it without breaking her?"
Five years.
It had been five long years since the night she chose him. The night their souls were tethered under that cursed blood moon. She had been human then. Fierce. Radiant. His.
But fate was cruel.
Until she returned.
Reborn. Changed. Haunted.
Carl stepped to the window, staring over the cliffs into the starless valley below. The mountains had always protected their kind—but not from the past.
He had watched her walk into the forest today, knowing what she would find.
Knowing who she would meet.
And knowing that soon… she would remember.
The child they created.
The love they shared.
And the war that tore it all apart.
Carl pressed his forehead to the cold glass.
"I'm sorry, Maika," he whispered. "But once you know everything… nothing will ever be the same again."