28. 26
26
Thorn
I stir slowly, nestled in silken sheets that still hold traces of Draven’s spicy masculine scent. Blinking awake, I find myself curled against his side, his arms wrapped securely around me. Memories from last night wash over me—the romantic dinner we shared, slowly opening our hearts to one another, eventually finding our way here, to his chambers, to share this bed.
Heat blooms in my cheeks even as a smile tugs at my lips. My lonely existence already feels a lifetime away. Being here, held in Draven’s tender embrace, feels profoundly right in a way I’ve never known before.
I trail light fingertips across Draven’s bare chest, tracing the contours of muscle and pale skin. He doesn’t stir, dead to the world in slumber, dark hair charmingly mussed. Contentment glows softly within me. Fate may have drawn us together, but this intimacy exists through choice alone.
After a few more stolen moments admiring my new mate, I slip carefully from beneath the covers. Draven mumbles in protest, reaching for me even in dreams, but I gently disentangle myself. I should dress and ready myself before the day’s demands intrude on this treasured interlude.
I press a feather-soft kiss to Draven’s brow, retrieve a robe, and silently make my way back to my own chamber across the hall. Inside, I find Luna already awake, tail swishing in greeting.
You’re glowing this morning, she remarks knowingly.
I quickly turn away to splash water on my flushed face, hiding my smile. Trust Luna to notice everything, no matter how subtle. A gentle knock on the door has me pulling the robe tighter around me. I open it a crack to find Draven on the other side.
“My bed got cold without you in it.”
My cheeks warmed. Am I blushing? Do I blush? Apparently I now do .
“Get dressed. I have a surprise,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.
“A surprise like last night?”
“Maybe not that good of a surprise. More like a family tradition. You are family now after all.”
“All right,” I acquiesce with a yawn, opening the door wider. “Give me a few minutes to dress, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Draven beams, darting forward to plant a swift kiss on my cheek. “Perfect! Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
With that, he practically bounces off down the corridor, leaving me staring after him in bewilderment. What has gotten into that vampire this morning?
Shaking my head, I shut the door and begin preparing for this early adventure.
As I wash my face and neatly braid my hair, I feel a smile creeping over my lips. Truthfully, Draven’s excitement is endearing. This surprise of Draven’s will provide a nice change of pace. It’s been so long since I’ve had a family. This could be good, a chance to enjoy lighter moments together beyond the weight of the past or our tangled destinies. Something fun before whatever happens tonight. The prospect warms me as I dress in a simple forest green gown.
I turn to Luna with a smile, taking in her sleek coat and bright eyes. “Well, you’re looking much better today.”
She stretches leisurely, tail swishing. I feel as good as new thanks to your healing powers, Luna replies, hopping gracefully down from the cushions.
My heart is glad to see her fully recovered.
As I finish braiding my hair, Luna comes over to nuzzle my hand affectionately. I’m happy to see you so at peace for once. This prince seems to have been good for you.
I give a slow nod, thinking it over. “Yeah, Draven’s got me rethinking how wary I’ve been about accepting anything from fate lately, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still worried about whatever this winter solstice ritual is going to bring tonight.” I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of all the unknowns pressing down. “We’ve got no idea what we’re walking into with these solstice celebrations. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
Luna tilts her head thoughtfully. I can keep watch around the castle as events unfold. My senses are keen, and I can blend into the shadows easily. Her golden eyes gleam knowingly. And a familiar has more abilities than most realize when needs arise.
I chew my lip, still worried but also relieved to have Luna healed and able to assist. “Please be careful. It would break me if something happened to you.”
Luna snorts delicately. Please, I’m no helpless kit. I’ve more than a few tricks hidden beneath this fur. She gives me a vulpine grin. Besides, now that you have accepted our bond, my own powers have grown. I’ll be keeping a close eye on things. Don’t you worry.
I have to chuckle a little at Luna acting all smug. Having a sly fox on watch does make me feel better about facing the unknown tonight. For now, though, I’m just gonna try and go with the flow and see where this wild ride with Draven takes us next. Things are always more interesting with him around, that’s for sure.
With a final scratch behind Luna’s ears, I head downstairs to find Draven. He waits for me at the base of the grand staircase, silver eyes lighting up as I approach.
“Ah, there you are,” he greets me warmly, drawing me close to place a swift kiss on my lips. “Ready for our adventure? ”
“As ready as I’ll ever be for one of your escapades,” I reply with a wry smile.
After taking my hand, Draven leads me through the bustling main halls then down a deserted servants’ passage. Our footsteps echo off the cold stones.
“Where exactly are we going?” I ask, glancing around the unfamiliar gloomy corridor. This isn’t an area I’ve ever explored, even in my past life here.
“Somewhere I spent much time as a boy, back when I sought to escape my rigid lessons,” Draven says over his shoulder.
I raise my brows curiously. “Should I be concerned you’re leading me to some secret dungeon?”
Draven chuckles, the rich sound bouncing around us. “Would you like that? Are you hoping for a dungeon? No, nothing so nefarious. Just a quiet place for us to gather today.”
As we meander through the dim corridors, we eventually reach a small wooden door hidden away in the shadows. Draven’s hand pushes it open, revealing a cozy kitchen that has been untouched and left to gather dust. The buckets of dirty water tell me that it has been cleaned only today for this particular purpose. The large stone hearth and neatly arranged shelves of cookware give the room a sense of warmth and comfort.
Draven gestures me inside. “Welcome to the old servant’s kitchens. As children, my siblings and I would sneak down here to pilfer treats.”
As he speaks, I notice figures already waiting for us by the long prep table. Queen Vespera looks up from rolling out dough, her face lighting in a smile. Princess Audrey and Lord Anthony are bickering playfully over a bowl of sugar as they measure ingredients. Kira’s bouncing on the balls of her feet sneaking sugar.
“You’re just in time. We’re about to mix up some cookie dough,” Audrey declares cheerily.
I glance between them, touched they’ve welcomed me into this private family tradition. “Cookie baking was your mysterious surprise activity?”
“Well, you are one of us now, are you not?” Vespera replies gently. “We thought you should help prepare the solstice treats, as is custom.”
Warmth blooms in my chest at her words. After lifetimes alone, to be so readily accepted means everything.
Draven grins and presses a quick kiss to my hair before putting on an apron .
Soon, we’re all busy creaming butter, whisking eggs, and mixing batter the color of sunsets. Laughter and banter fills the cozy kitchen as we work side by side.
Draven keeps sneaking nibbles of cookie dough when he thinks I’m not looking. I retaliate by flicking flour across his nose, making him sputter in surprise. Even Vespera hides her smile behind one elegant hand at our antics.
Princess Kira giggles as she watches us, her doe eyes lighting up with delight. Though the youngest, she joins in preparing the dough with enthusiasm, scattering flour across the tabletop.
As we bake, the looming solstice rituals fade from thought. Here there are no divisions between natural born vampires and those turned. No expectations weigh upon me as Prince Draven’s fated mate. We are simply family, finding joy in shared laughter and sweets.
While we wait for the first batch to bake, I study those gathered around me. Vespera moves with refined grace even while scooping dough onto trays, every motion elegant. Audrey’s eyes keep straying to Anthony, who steals glances of his own when her head is turned. An unspoken affection glows between them, binding two souls despite their differences.
My own gaze finds Draven. He’s leaning casually near the ovens. Our eyes meet across the room, and an invisible thread seems to connect us. Though I’m unsure where fate will lead us, I’m deeply grateful for the joy this bond has brought me.
The warm scents of baking cookies fill the kitchen. We sample the results eagerly, mouths full of molten chocolate and bursts of cinnamon. Kira laughs in delight with each new treat, leaving a smudge of icing on her nose that makes Draven chuckle and wipe it away fondly.
As we finish our baking, talk turns to reminiscing about past Winter Festivals. I listen with joy as Draven recounts lively tales of him and his siblings sneaking down here for midnight feasts or stealing whole trays of tarts upstairs. His eyes dance with nostalgia and mischief.
“One year, young Draven somehow rigged a trap above the kitchen door to shower me in flour when I walked through,” Vespera adds wryly. “I was finding the stuff in my hair for days. ”
We all laugh at the image while Draven ducks his head with an impish grin. “You must admit I was quite inventive,” he says cheekily.
The queen just shakes her head in amusement.
I find myself blending into the reminiscing, sharing my own stories of Winter Fests long ago, back when my world was whole. The bittersweet memories bring smiles tinged with sorrow but also hope that I may find similar joy again now.
Too soon, the grandfather clock signals mid-morning. We begin tidying up, the lightness of our shared moments drifting away like flour dusted across the worn wood floors. The memories glow within me, kindling hope. For a few precious hours, I felt part of something beyond myself, beyond my solitude. Whatever comes tonight, I will hold onto that.
Vespera sighs as she unties her apron. “I’m afraid duty calls, but thank you all for this lovely interlude.” She touches my shoulder lightly. “I hope you know you are welcome here, Thorn.”
“Thank you,” I reply thickly. I curtsy respectfully as she takes her leave, queen once more despite her casual garb .
Audrey glances at the clock and gasps. “Oh, my, is it really almost noon already? I must start preparing for the ball!” She gathers an armload of freshly baked cookies and sweets. “The handmaidens will need at least four hours just to style my hair, and don’t get me started on picking the perfect gown!”
I smile in amusement at her dramatic flair as she sweeps toward the door in a flutter of skirts.
Anthony sketches us an elaborate bow. “Well, I suppose I should go make myself presentable as well. Can’t have the princess showing me up in front of all the nobility.” He winks.
Audrey tosses her head imperiously, though her eyes sparkle with laughter. “As if you could ever match my sense of style, Anthony.”
“You wound me, my lady!” Anthony presses a hand to his heart in mock affront.
Audrey’s laughter echoes down the passage as she departs, Anthony following with a grin and a wave.
Draven draws me close, his arms encircling my waist. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Very much so. I almost wish this day would never end.” I nestle into his embrace, wanting to cling to these beautiful moments a little longer before the coming night.
Draven’s expression grows serious. “Whatever this ritual holds, remember you are not alone to face it.” He tips my chin up, gazing intently into my eyes until I nod.
Together, we gather up the rest of the cookie trays. As we make our way back upstairs, I feel hopeful. With Draven beside me and a newfound family at my back, I am ready for what is to come.
***
The grand doors of the ballroom feel like a portal to another world, a world where I’m not just Thorn with dirt under my fingernails and a knack for talking to plants. Here, in this sea of twirling silk and whispered secrets, I’m a lady—or, at least, pretending to be one.
“Deep breaths,” I mutter to myself, stepping over the threshold.
The green and black velvet of my dress hugs every curve, making me acutely aware of how out of place I am. Draven’s necklace presses cool and reassuringly against my collarbone, its emerald heart pulsing with a warmth that must be magic. Or maybe it’s just my pounding heart reflecting back at me.
I can do this. I’m just in a room full of vampires who, the last time I saw them, wanted to kill me. What’s the worst that could happen?
Don’t answer that, brain.
The ballroom is a stunning display of opulence and wealth, decorated in deep crimson and gold for the winter solstice festival. Candles flicker on every surface, casting a warm glow over the room. The vampire nobles are dressed in extravagant gowns and suits, their pale skin contrasting with the rich colors of the room. The king and queen sit on their thrones, regal and imposing, while Kira sits with her friends at a table adorned with silver and crystal. Audrey is already on the dance floor with a noble I don’t recognize while Anthony watches with a scowl from the side of the ballroom. How those two haven’t been discovered as a couple by the rest of the court, I will never know.
I breathe deep in an attempt to calm my nerves. The air is heavy with the scent of burning candles, fragrant pine from the decorations, and the subtle hint of blood that lingers on the vampires. The rich aroma of spices and roasted meats wafts from the buffet table, making mouths water in anticipation.
As I scan the crowd, little flickers of memory dance at the edges of my consciousness. Me, standing in front of an angry mob, their accusations stinging like hornet bites. Traitor, they hissed, and the word clung to my skin, a label I couldn’t shake off.
My feet freeze on the polished floor, and I can almost feel the bite of cold iron manacles on my wrists again.
“Get a grip, Thorn,” I tell myself through gritted teeth, forcing my legs to move.
The past is a ghost that loves to haunt at the most inconvenient times, but I won’t let it ruin tonight. Tonight, I’m with Draven, and we’re going to dance until these memories are nothing but dust. Well, at least until the ritual is started. I wish I had more time to figure out what exactly that ritual looks like. I feel so unprepared.
“Remember who you are,” I whisper, my own reflection in the mirror-like sheen of the ballroom floor giving me a determined nod.
That’s right, Thorn. You’re a survivor, a fighter, and you clean up pretty nice in velvet too .
“Easy for you to say,” I mutter under my breath, casting a glare at the chandelier above as if it’s personally responsible for my racing pulse.
The crystal lights flicker and dance mockingly, refracting light as if they’re in on a secret joke.
“Focus,” I command myself, clenching my hands into fists then releasing them, trying to let go of the tension knotted within. Draven gave me this necklace, this dress, a symbol of his trust and belief in me. I can’t dishonor that with my own doubts.
I take a step forward, another, feeling the swish of velvet against my legs. I’m doing this. I’m moving through a ballroom full of potential enemies with my head held high because that’s what Thorn does. She doesn’t cower. She struts, even if it’s just a well-rehearsed act.
Tonight is about new memories. My resolve hardens like the crust of a well-baked loaf. Memories of betrayal and fear might bubble up like an overzealous potion, but I’ll keep them at bay with a spoonful of defiance and a dash of sheer stubbornness.
“Plus, I’ve got killer dance moves,” I add with a smirk, even though no one’s close enough to hear. “ Let’s see you try to frown when I’m twirling across the dance floor.”
The past can lurk in the shadows all it wants, but I won’t let it take the lead tonight. Not when I have a chance to waltz with destiny—and with Draven.
“Thorn, love, are you all right?” Draven’s voice cuts through the whirl of the ballroom like a knife, smooth but impossible to ignore.
Turning on my heels, I flash him my best “everything is peachy” grin. “Me? Pfft, I’m fine. Just taking in the… splendor of it all.” My hands do a little twirl to encompass the grandeur of the room, hoping it distracts from the panic I can feel nipping at my insides like an annoying fairy with a point to prove.
He steps closer, his gaze searching mine. It’s unsettling how he can read me so well. The whole fated mate thing really cranks up the dial on the intuition radio.
“You don’t have to pretend, not with me,” he says softly, his hand reaching out to trace the line of the necklace, the one that seems to pulse with reassurance against my skin.
“Draven, honestly, I’m—“ I start, but the words fade as his fingers brush mine. He’s trying to be my rock, my anchor in this sea of high society sharks, and damned if I don’t want to cling to him like the last life vest on a sinking ship.
“Come on,” he says, offering his arm with that lopsided smile that spells trouble and thrills in equal measure. “Let’s dance.”
The music swells around us—a cue straight out of a play—as we step onto the dance floor. His hand finds my waist, and I rest mine on his shoulder, our other hands clasping together. As we begin to move, something just clicks. Our bodies seem to sync up effortlessly, like two parts of the same spell coming together to create magic.
“Look at us,” I whisper, a laugh bubbling up. “Who knew becoming official would suddenly make us fantastic dancers?”
“To be fair, it’s always been one of my skills, but it’s never been like this. It’s much more natural dancing with you.”
The world narrows down to just him and me, spinning through space as if the ground beneath us has transformed into clouds, but even with the intoxicating rush of dancing with Draven, I can’t fully let go .
My eyes dart past the twirling gowns and sharp suits, over to where the king and crowned prince hold court. They’re the picture of royal poise, but something about the set of the king’s jaw and the way his eyes track the room sends a shiver down my spine.
“Notice anything off with Tall, Dark, and Regal over there?” I murmur, tilting my head ever so slightly toward the throne.
Draven’s gaze follows mine as we continue our dance, moving with a grace that belies our vigilance. “They’re on edge. More than usual,” he says, his voice a low growl only I can hear. “Something’s brewing.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter. “Just tells me that we are right. It’s happening tonight.”
We share a look, one that says we’re in this together, come hell or high water. As much as I would rather face a mountain troll bare-handed than deal with royal vampire intrigue, I know there’s no one else I would rather have by my side than Draven.
Because when push comes to shove, if there’s a battle to be fought or a mystery to unravel, there’s no denying it. We make one hell of a team.
The rhythm of the music still pulses through me, a siren’s call to lose myself in the endless sea of twirls and dips, but as Draven’s strong hands steady me from yet another spin, a whisper in my mind halts any thought of further revelry.
Thorn. Luna’s voice echoes within the confines of my skull, her mental touch as light as a moth’s wing against a lantern. The crowned prince is making a rather sneaky exit stage left.
I blink, subtly craning my neck to see past a flock of feathered headpieces crowning the heads of nobility. Sure enough, there is a ripple in the crowd, vampires parting ways for royalty on the move.
Interesting, I muse silently back to Luna, feeling the corners of my mouth twitch with curiosity. Time to play shadow.
Be careful, she warns, a mother hen even in telepathic form. I chuckle at calling my fox familiar a hen.
Always am, I shoot back, though we both know that is a stretch of the truth.
“Where are you going?” Draven’s voice pulls me back, a thread of concern lacing his words.
“Need some air,” I lie smoothly, detaching myself from his embrace with practiced ease.
While I know we are in this together, I don’t want to require him to face down his own family. It would break me for him to have to fight or possibly kill his own father and brother, but they have to be stopped.
With a phantom kiss pressed to his cheek, I slip away, melting into the throng of bodies. My feet carry me with silent purpose, skirting the edge of the ballroom.
But as fate would have it—or just my rotten luck—a hand clamps down on my shoulder, spinning me with an unexpected force. The world comes to a screeching halt as I find myself staring into a pair of eyes that recognize me not as Thorn but as someone I once was.
“Vivian?” the voice drips with incredulous surprise, the name hitting me like a bucket of ice water.
“Ah,” I stammer, my heart pulling a drum solo against my ribs. “You must be mistaken.”
“Your resemblance is uncanny,” they insist, peering at me with an intensity that feels like tweezers trying to pluck out my secrets.
“Coincidence, I assure you,” I reply, the words tumbling out in a tumbleweed of nerves.
But inside, panic claws at my chest. Vivian is a ghost meant to stay buried, and if this specter of the past doesn’t take the hint, things will go sour fast .
“Sorry, but I really must catch my breath,” I say, offering a smile that I hope looks more genuine than it feels. “Excuse me.”
“Could it be that you’re related? You just look so much like her,” the inquisitor presses, leaning in too close for comfort. Their eyes are eager, almost hungry, and a shiver runs down my spine that had nothing to do with the ballroom’s chill.
I laugh, but it sounds like a crow cawing—an omen of bad luck. “In another life, perhaps,” I quip, sidestepping their probing gaze.
My mind is already sprinting through lies as slippery as eels. If they dig deeper, I’ll have to spin a tapestry of half-truths tight enough to snare them in confusion.
“Your features, though…” they murmur, relentless as a hound on a scent.
“Common stock. You’ll find them in any village,” I reply with a shrug that I hope conveys nonchalance rather than the screaming alarm bells inside me.
“Perhaps,” they concede, but their suspicion hangs between us, a noose waiting to tighten.
It is then that chaos erupts like a potion gone wrong. The king’s voice booms across the grandeur of the ballroom, each syllable a thunderclap of doom. “Bring her here!”
I look around the room to see who the king could be demanding and find to my horror that his finger is pointing directly at me.
I don’t even have time to curse before vampires encircle me, their eyes glinting with malice—and is that excitement? In another life, I might have found it flattering to command such attention. Now, it is about as welcome as a swarm of bees at a picnic.
“Great,” I mutter under my breath, taking a discreet step back as my fingers twitch toward the hidden dagger strapped to my thigh. “Party’s over, Thorn.”
The vampires close in, their gazes cold and calculating. I tense, ready to fight, but a firm hand grips my elbow.
“No need for trouble, my dear,” the vampire from earlier says. “His Majesty simply requests an audience.”
I doubt that highly but allow him to steer me through the parted crowd toward the throne. All around, whisperings break out like hissing fires.
“Vivian,” the king purrs as we approach, his tone deceptively warm. “What a delightful surprise. ”
His calculating eyes say otherwise. They rake over me, searching for cracks in my disguise.
“The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty,” I reply, dipping into a curtsy, “although I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else. My name is—“
“Do not play coy with me, witch,” he snap, cold fury blazing through the glamour. “I know precisely who you are. I was suspicious when my son brought you back. How you dug your claws into him, I will never know, but it’s so good to see you alive.”
Before I can react, he makes a sharp motion with his fingers. My illusion peels away in wisps of glowing magic, leaving me exposed. Gasps echo around us. The king’s smile holds all the warmth of a dagger’s edge.
“Vivian,” he purrs again, savoring my true name. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize a traitor in my own court?”
My heart stutter. I glance desperately for Draven but find only enemies. Their hungry eyes tell me my fate has already been decided.
I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Your Majesty is mistaken. My name is Thorn, not Vivian. ”
The king’s eyes narrows. “Do not play games with me, witch. I know exactly who you are and why you have returned.” His voice drips with contempt.
“I speak the truth,” I insist. “Vivian was a name I once went by, before I was forced to flee this court under false accusations.”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd.
The king raises a hand to silence them. “False accusations, you say? You were caught red-handed stealing forbidden texts from the royal library, texts containing powerful blood magic, which you intended to use against me.”
“That’s not true!” I cry. “I discovered a plot—your plot—to slaughter innocents in a bid to expand your power. I had to run for my life when you marked me as a traitor for uncovering your deceit.”
Gasps echo around the hall.
The king’s face contorts in rage. “Lies! I would never harm my people. Do not listen to this witch’s poisonous words. She is clearly mad and deludes herself with fantasies.”
I shake my head sadly. “I speak only the truth. The people deserve to know how you’ve betrayed them.”
The king rises from his throne, magic crackling around him. “Enough! I will hear no more of these outrageous fabrications. Guards, seize her!”
As vampires close in, I prepare to make my stand, praying Draven will fight by my side. The battle for the truth has only just begun.
“Touch her and you die!” comes Draven’s sharp command from somewhere behind me.
His presence is a torch in the dark, the silent promise that I’m not alone in this twisted dance, but I can’t focus on that. Not now.
“Sorry, boys,” I say with a grin that feels more like a snarl, “but I don’t do well with cages.”
The first vampire lunges, more shadow than substance, but I’m ready. Instinct and adrenaline are a potent brew, fueling my defiance. I pivot, ducking low as the room becomes a blur of motion.
“Guess it’s time to fight fire with fire,” I whisper to myself, summoning the magic that simmers in my veins, feeling it coil like a spring—or a serpent—waiting to strike.
I feel their hesitation, the vampires recoiling as if Draven’s words are tangible things, strikes against their undead flesh, but I know it wouldn’t be enough, not with the king’s command ringing in their ears like a twisted benediction.
Psst, Luna, you there? I call out silently, casting my thoughts toward my familiar, hidden somewhere among the shadows. Kinda could use an escape plan right about now.
Her reply is instant, a cool thread weaving through the hot tangle of my thoughts. East balcony. Hidden passage behind the tapestry. Move quickly, Thorn. The crowned prince is up to something and is on his way back. You can have a better vantage point from there.
East balcony, I repeat mentally, plotting my next move as I feign a stumble, using the momentary distraction to slip through the ring of encircling vampires.
Right. Because nothing says “cozy” like darting through cobwebbed secret corridors during a royal smackdown.
“Stay back!” Draven warns again, his tone dripping with the kind of menace that would make lesser creatures flee. There is a reason he is feared, respected—a predator cloaked in prince’s finery. And he is all mine. Talk about relationship goals .
Thorn, now! Luna’s urgent whisper echoes in my mind.
Not one to ignore sound advice—or the chance to avoid being vampire chow—I make a break for it, skirts whipping around my legs as I dart toward the balcony. The ballroom blurs past in a swirl of color and sound, my pulse pounding a staccato beat in my ears.
“Sorry, gotta dash. Wouldn’t want to ruin your fun,” I toss over my shoulder with a smirk, though it is mostly for show.
My skin prickles with awareness, the sensation of being hunted prickling along my spine. I’ve been playing this game long before tonight, and I’m not about to get caught now.
“Over my dead body,” Draven growls from behind me, a vow wrapped in shadow and steel.
Let’s not add that to the evening’s entertainment, okay? I try to think at him, hoping he catches the edge of desperation in my silent plea.
Focus, Thorn , I chide myself. You have a date with a dusty old tapestry to regroup and fight back.
With that, I leap onto the balcony, my fingers finding the edges of woven history and pushing them aside to reveal salvation—a narrow passage just waiting for a damsel in distress to make her less-than-graceful exit.
A group of vampires rushes me, attempting to climb up onto the balcony after me.
“Big mistake,” I mutter under my breath, feeling the energy pulse and swell within me.
With a defiant cry, I unleash it, sending a wave of force that knocks the vampires back. They stumble, surprise etched on their pale faces, and I don’t waste a second. I dart forward, slipping through their loosened grasp like water through fingers.
“Nice try, boys,” I taunt, my sarcasm a thin veil over the fear that claws at my insides.
“Thorn!” Draven call out, his gaze tracking my every move with fierce intensity.
“Keep your crown on. I’m not leaving you,” I shoot back even as my heart hammers against my ribs.
Just then, the grand doors swings open with a resounding thud, and in strides the crowned prince, his presence commanding the room’s attention. His hands are adorned with a pair of crowns that glint ominously under the chandelier’s light. He joins the king at the dais, and together, they begin to chant words that make my blood run cold .
“Son of a vamp,” I whisper, the realization hitting me like a thunderbolt.
The ritual. They are going to do it now while everyone is focused on me. This is part of the plan. No one will see what they are doing before it is too late. The king always knew who I was. Or did he?
As the chanting fills the air, an echo of ancient magic, memories surge within me, pieces of arcane knowledge slotting into place.
“Looks like story time is over,” I say to myself, steeling my nerve. This is bigger than any secret or fear I harbored. I must stop whatever madness is about to unfold.
“Thorn, what are you—“ Draven starts, but I wave him off.
“Trust me. I’ve got a history with dusty old books, and they’re about to pay off,” I reply, my focus narrowing on the prince and king.
The chants grow louder, the vibrations of power threading through the air, wrapping around us in an unseen snare, but I’m not about to let the past repeat itself—not here, not now. With everything at stake, I square my shoulders and prepare to rewrite our fates .
“I’m done letting someone else write my story,” I declare, my voice cutting through the cacophony of chants and murmurs that fill the opulent throne room.
The truth is a burning starburst within me, demanding release. It is time for Thorn, the unassuming half witch, half vampire with more secrets than a grave keeper, to step into the light. Time to take revenge for everyone and everything I’ve lost to this corrupted royal line.
“Who are you?” someone hisses from the crowd, their suspicion a tangible thing wrapping around my throat.
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.