The sun had barely risen when Seraphina stepped out of the house, but the chill in the air did nothing to calm the storm in her chest. The whispers from her dream echoed in her head like a haunting melody she couldn't shake. "When the blood of two enemies births the child of dusk, the world will kneel… or burn." What did it mean? And why did her mark pulse every time she remembered those words?
She was dressed simply: a black hooded tunic that clung to her form, worn boots, and a satchel slung across her shoulder. She didn't care about fashion—she never had. Not when the pack made her feel like a ghost walking among them. Her hair, wild and untamed like her thoughts, fell across her shoulders as she moved quickly through the quiet woods.
She needed answers.
And she needed to see him again.
Vael.
The name alone made her heart do a strange thing—something between a flinch and a flutter. Who was he? And how did he know about her?
The forest seemed darker today. The shadows lingered longer. The birds were quieter.
She didn't know where she was going exactly—only that her feet kept returning to the clearing where she had first seen him. The tree. The one with twisted roots and blood-red leaves that never seemed to fall.
But the place was empty.
No boy.
No answers.
Only silence.
She sighed and sat down beneath the tree, her fingers tracing the bark as if it held a secret message. "More." The word he had spoken still rang in her ears. "You are more."
More than what?
A breeze swept through the clearing. And with it… a scent.
She froze.
Blood and ash.
She turned quickly, her eyes scanning the trees. Nothing. But the air felt watched.
"Looking for me?"
His voice didn't come from behind her, or in front of her. It came from everywhere. And then suddenly… there he was. Standing just feet away. Leaning casually against the tree as if he'd always been there.
Vael.
He was dressed differently this time. Dark cloak. Gloves. His eyes still held that unreadable look—like he knew a thousand things she didn't.
"You shouldn't be here," she said. It came out breathless, defensive. But she didn't move.
He smiled faintly. "Neither should you."
Her pulse quickened.
"You said I'm more," she whispered. "More than what?"
He studied her. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then he stepped forward, slowly.
"You're a fracture in the old world. A crack in the prophecy they tried to bury."
She swallowed hard. "What prophecy?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lifted his hand—and in it was a torn page. Ancient. Faded ink. He handed it to her gently, like it was something sacred.
She took it, her hands trembling.
A crest.
Two wolves, two fangs. One moon.
And the words:
"Born of blood and moonlight, Marked by seal and crest, The child of dusk shall rise, To silence war or summon death."
Her mouth went dry.
"It's you," Vael said quietly.
"But why me?" she choked. "Why do I have this mark? Why was I hidden? Why does everyone hate me?"
"Because," he said, "they're afraid. You weren't supposed to exist. You're the result of a love that defied both clans' sacred laws. You're the daughter of the two most feared legacies. They hate you… because they fear what you could become."
She sank to the ground, the paper still clutched in her hand. Her head felt like it might explode. She wanted to scream. To run. To disappear.
But she didn't.
She looked up at him.
"And what do you want from me?"
He crouched in front of her, his gaze locking onto hers. There was no mockery there. No pity. Just something deep. Heavy. Real.
"Nothing," he said. "Except for you to stop running from who you are."
Seraphina's lips parted, but no words came. There was too much in her.
Pain.
Anger.
Hope.
And fear.
"I'm scared," she admitted. It was the first time she'd said it out loud.
Vael nodded. "Good. Fear means you care. But let your faith be stronger."
She blinked. "Faith?"
"In yourself," he replied. "In your blood. Your moon. Your fire."
He stood, offering a hand.
She hesitated.
Then took it.
And as he pulled her to her feet, the air shifted around them. The wind howled through the trees like a warning—or a promise.
From this moment on, nothing would be the same.
Author Message: Seraphina's journey is no longer just a whisper—it's a storm waiting to break. Are you ready for what comes next? 🖤 Comment below what you think of Vael—and whether Seraphina should trust him… or not. New chapter coming soon!