24. Torin
24
TORIN
The black magick fades from the clearing, but the geometric patterns etched into our skin remain. I trace the lines on my forearm, feeling how they pulse in time with my born vampiric nature. Twenty-one years of straddling two worlds - never fully fitting into the ancient vampire courts, never quite understanding their obsession with the old ways.
Bram stands transformed, power rolling off him in waves that make my heightened senses buzz. Tate’s fated mark glows through his tee like a beacon. And me? I was drawn to Ivy, despite everything I’d been taught about keeping to our own kind.
“You okay?” Tate asks, his voice rough from the ritual.
I flex my fingers, feeling my innate vampiric power, but also something else now. Something new. “I understand now,” I say slowly. “Why it had to be me. Why I was born in this time, for this moment.”
The others wait as I find the words. The crystal roots might have retreated into the ground, but I can still feel their energy humming through me, connecting dots I never saw before.
“The old vampires, they’re all about tradition. Rules. The way things have always been. But I was born into a changing world. Born vampire, but never truly part of their ancient hierarchy. I never fit in because I wasn’t meant to.”
“The perfect bridge,” Bram murmurs.
“Exactly. I was born with one foot in the modern world and one in the supernatural. The old covens always saw that as a weakness. But that’s exactly why Ivy needs me.”
The geometric patterns flare as I speak, confirming the truth I now know. “That’s why I was drawn to her from the start, because I represent what she’s trying to do, to bridge the gap between old and new. Challenge what everyone thinks has to be.”
Tate nods slowly. “You’ve never been bound by their ancient politics or their fear of change.”
“More than that,” I say, feeling the rightness of each word. “Being born a vampire in this era means I understand both worlds naturally. The old courts see modern times as a threat to their power, but I see how the supernatural world needs to evolve. Has to evolve.”
I think of all the times I frustrated my elders, questioning traditions that made no sense in today’s world. How they dismissed me as too young to understand, when really, I understood something they couldn’t—that change is inevitable.
“The courts and covens keep trying to hold on to their old ways, keep everything separate and controlled,” I continue, the revelation flowing now. “But look at the world. Technology, social media, global connection - the barriers between supernatural and human are already breaking down. Ivy isn’t just changing what Death is. She’s acknowledging what’s already happening and steering it toward something new.”
The patterns on my skin settle into a steady glow, accepting their new purpose. My unique perspective - being born into both modern times and an ancient vampire society - isn’t a weakness or a quirk. It’s exactly what’s needed. The old courts would never accept guidance from Death, especially not a new, changed Death. They’re too set in their hierarchies, too convinced of their own superiority. That they are beyond death, as ironic as that is. But they might listen to one of their own. Someone who understands their nature but isn’t trapped by their past.
The dying ritual flares up again. I wonder if it gave me time to come to this realisation, or if the realisation restarted the ritual. I wasn’t sure of my place before. It probably put a massive dent in the intent of this magick.
She’s going to reshape everything, and when she does, the supernatural world needs to adapt, not fight it. I can help them see that. Help them understand that evolution doesn’t mean losing what they are - it means becoming something more.
The air snaps with possibility and, if I didn’t know better, approval for my epiphany. I’m a catalyst for necessary change, just like Ivy. Just like we’re all becoming.
The magick surges through the clearing again, stronger this time, as if rewarding my understanding. The geometric patterns carved into my skin shift and change, no longer just glowing but sinking deeper, becoming part of me in a way I can’t quite explain.
Bram grunts, his features catching starlight that isn’t there. The darkness around him seems to deepen, not like shadows but like depth, endless and infinite. His transformation is completing itself, becoming permanent in a way that makes my vampiric senses sing with recognition of something ancient and new all at once.
Tate’s mark blazes brighter, and I can see other marks beginning to appear on his skin, as if his first fate mark was just the beginning of something much more complex. They spread like a language being written in real time, each symbol holding meaning I can almost grasp.
The crystal roots burst from the ground again, but this time, they don’t just ensnare us - they seem to be growing from us, through us, connecting us in ways that transcend physical space. All of it weaving together with my own changing self.
The ritual isn’t just transforming us individually anymore - it’s transforming the spaces between us, the fabric of reality around us. We’re becoming anchors for whatever Ivy is doing in the void, foundation stones for her new reality.
The pain hits then, not like before but deeper, fundamental, like being unmade and then remade. I hear myself grunt, hear similar sounds from the others, but they seem distant, unimportant compared to the rushing in my blood, the burning in my bones, the sense of something vast and inevitable taking hold.
This is what birth feels like, I think distantly. Not my first birth as a vampire, but this second one, this becoming of something else. Something necessary. Something new.
The world fractures around us, and the real transformation begins.