Maika slammed the heavy oak door behind her. The sound echoed like a scream swallowed by the cold stone of the manor. Her boots clicked sharply on marble as she stormed down the corridor, ignoring the way ancient portraits of vampire royalty glared down at her with eyes full of disdain and judgment.
She didn't stop. Not until she reached her chamber.
The moment the door locked, Maika collapsed against it, sliding to the floor. Her chest heaved with shallow gasps she didn't even need to take. The room was freezing, but her skin burned—rage simmering under her flesh like wildfire.
Her trembling hands reached for the silver anklet around her leg.
That cursed thing.
Elegant, enchanted, and cruel. Forged by the Elders. A shackle disguised as jewelry. A "precaution" they said, after she was turned. A precaution that left her powerless. A ghost in her own body.
Her claws snapped out with a hiss, but the anklet pulsed with cold blue light, repelling her magic. A painful reminder of her captivity.
She remembered now.
The moment they clasped it on her. She'd been confused. Weak. Still tasting blood for the first time. They said it was for her safety. But all it did was cage her.
And now Genie was gone. Taken right in front of her eyes.
"If I'd had my powers…" Maika whispered, voice cracked with grief. "If I had even a sliver of my strength…"
She might've saved her. Fought them off. Protected the only person who truly believed in her.
Instead, she'd stood there. Helpless. Broken.
But not anymore.
With trembling fingers, she wiped away the tears threatening to fall.
This wasn't going to be her story. Not the story of a vampire girl kept on a leash.
This was the start of something else.
Something furious.
Something unstoppable.
---
The forest groaned beneath the weight of night. Wind howled through the twisted trees like whispers of the dead. Maika moved like a phantom, her hood drawn low, her glowing eyes the only hint of the storm building inside her.
Each step sunk into moss and old leaves as she approached the edge of forbidden land—the Witches' Den.
No vampire dared cross this boundary.
But Maika wasn't just a vampire anymore.
She belonged to something else now. Something ancient. Something still waking.
"I need her," she murmured to the trees. "The one they call… Salem."
The wind shifted.
Mist curled at her feet. A light flared in the distance—a lantern, bobbing slowly through the fog like a ghost's eye.
She followed it.
The trail led to a crooked stone cottage hidden in a clearing. Vines clung to the walls like veins. Black birds perched motionless on the eaves, their eyes fixed on her.
The door creaked open before she could knock.
"Come in, Maika, twin of Valus," a voice rasped, older than bone and heavier than fate.
Maika stepped inside.
The cottage breathed with power. Candles flickered on every surface, casting shadows that danced across rune-covered walls. At the center sat the witch.
Salem.
Her silver hair was braided with beads and bones. Her eyes, a cloudy white, pierced through Maika like she was glass.
"You knew I'd come," Maika said.
"I smelled your need hours ago," Salem replied. "Vampire. Magic. Rage. A woman with a ghost in her bones."
Maika stepped forward and lifted her gown, revealing the anklet. "I want it off."
Salem leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Many have asked. Few survived."
"I'm not afraid," Maika said. Her voice was cold. Final. "I lost someone… because of this. If I'd had my strength, I could've saved her."
Salem tilted her head. "Regret is a sharp blade. But beware—sometimes the chains we wear bind more than just power."
She crouched and examined the anklet, fingertips glowing as she traced the silver etchings.
"This is old. Vampire blood forged with something older still. Royal runes… and a curse."
Maika's breath caught. "Can you break it?"
Salem didn't answer right away. Her eyes lifted, studying Maika fully now. Slowly, her lips parted.
"You look like someone I once knew," she said. "A girl named Aster. The adopted daughter of Lady Vienna."
Maika froze.
Aster.
The name rang in her head like a bell long buried.
"She was human," Salem continued. "Bright. Brave. Vanished fifteen years ago. Some say the Council killed her. Others… that she fled and was hunted by wolves."
Maika's pulse thundered. "Are you saying… I'm her?"
"I'm saying your face is a mirror," Salem whispered. "And souls like hers… they don't disappear. Not truly. Not when magic has a reason to keep them."
Maika staggered back. Her heart pounded in her ears.
Is that why I feel so broken? So haunted?
Why her memories came in flashes—like shards of a mirror she couldn't quite piece together?
"Please," she whispered. "Remove it. I need to know who I really am."
Salem nodded slowly.
She placed her hand over the anklet and began to chant—soft, ancient words that clawed through the air like claws through silk. The anklet flared with blue light. Brighter. Brighter still.
Then—CRACK.
The silver split.
It fell to the floor with a hiss.
Maika gasped as a surge of energy slammed into her chest. Her fangs ached. Her claws pulsed. Her vision exploded into color. The world roared awake around her—the scent of herbs and ash, the heartbeat of the witch, the breath of the trees outside.
She was whole.
Unbound.
Awakened.
And then—a flash.
A newborn's cry. Blood on her hands. A forest. Screams. Hounds in the distance.
And a voice—
"My lady, RUN!"
Maika clutched her head, eyes wide. Her knees buckled.
"You remember something," Salem said softly.
Maika nodded, voice choked. "I remember… I wasn't supposed to survive."
Salem moved to her shelves, grabbing vials and scrolls.
"These will help recover more. But be warned—the deeper you dig, the more enemies you'll awaken. The Council fears what you might become."
Maika took the vials and tucked them away.
Her eyes burned with fire. "Let them fear me."
Salem placed a hand over her chest. "Then go, Vampire. Find your truth. Reclaim your power."
Maika turned away.
She didn't look back as she stepped into the mist.
But behind her, the shattered anklet smoked where it lay.
And the old magic whispered—She has returned.