Page 3

"Mortals' bullshit doesn't interest me," I say, staring hard at the moon that's casting light on his broad shoulders. "Their lives are too damn short and insignificant."

Erik lets out a harsh laugh. "Bullshit? You deny even romance's allure?" His smile turns roguish. "The local mortals seem to have caught Lucian's eye at least."

I keep my focus on the dark woods, ignoring his jab. "Lucian can screw around all he wants. That kind of hunger does not drive me."

"Come now, this place is hidden deep in the wilderness. You cannot say it doesn't call to you." He speaks like he's trying to coax a damn dog down from a tree.

I don't give him anything. He finally sighs. "Alright, keep moping around then. You're missing out, though. There's more to life than… whatever this is."

“Enough," I snap, my patience about to run dry. "I'm on my path, and your head-in-the-clouds crap isn't going to knock me off it."

Erik backs off, nodding once like he actually respects my choice. As he walks away, he throws over his shoulder, "Even the coldest heart can be warmed, brother. Do not forget."

I push his worthless sentiments out of my mind as easily as I shrug off the biting wind. I ripped out my weaknesses a long time ago and came out stronger and more focused. Without those pesky feelings, my mind's clear to focus on the real mess — this damn prophecy.

The thing reads like a bad joke — our fate's supposed to rest in the hands of some clueless mortal born under who the hell knows what star. But as laughable as it sounds, there's no mistaking the doom spelled out between the lines. Our race is on the line here, and I'm supposed to put my trust in a mortal? Bullshit. But I can't ignore it.

Doubt's a heavy beast, but I'm not about to let it slow me down. This isn't the time for soft crap. I've got to sift through this old text and yank out the truth, whatever it takes.

The council thinks they've got the wisdom to deal with this shit. Until they sort their own crap out and shed some light on this mess, I've got no choice but to chase down whatever fate's scribbled out for us. Our time's running out, but hell if destiny's waiting on my ass.

As the clouds swallow up the moon, the ivy and runes around me start to feel like a trap rather than protection. This place we've built—hidden deep in the Oregon woods—feels like a damn prison, but there's no walking away. The prophecy's got me on a leash, whether I like it or not.

Rolling my eyes, I head towards the council's icy room. The idea this will help feels like a joke, but shit, I've got to play along. I’ll deal with whatever nonsense they throw my way. There's nothing else to do.

Rhyland

4

Shoving open the heavy doors, I stride into the vampire council's meeting chamber, the click of my Oxford shoes echoing off the marble floors. Blood-red curtains drape the tall arched windows, and tapestries depicting our history adorn the walls. An imposing round dark oak table stands in the center, surrounded by ornately carved chairs. At its head sits a majestic chair of silver and onyx reserved for me.

Shadows dance at the chamber's edges despite the flickering red crystal chandeliers overhead, creating an ominous mood. I take my seat, glancing around at the council members dressed formally, their faces etched with concern. These elders wield immense power, each a vital piece in our survival.

With a flick of my wrist, the doors slam shut, telekinesis being but one of my preternatural gifts. Useful tricks like that make me feel goddamn invincible. Got a problem? I'll move it the hell out of my way.

The heavy silence weighs down like a crushing vice. We all know why we're here. The demon Moretemis and his Shadow realm bullshit.

Killian turns to me, eyes blazing. "Moretemis grows stronger daily. Our protections are weakening; he will break through soon."

I think of the prophecy calling Moretemis an unstoppable evil. But I'll be damned if I let some puffed-up shadow demon bring us down. "Then we find a way to stop him," I snap. "Use the prophecy, seek outside help if needed. I don't care how… get it done."

Killian nods solemnly. His mood-sensing power connects him to each being here, their fear palpable.

This prophecy is ridiculous, but it's all we've got. "It says we need some human's 'hidden strength.' sounds ridiculous, but we're chasing every lead right now."

Muttering breaks out around the table. Viktor slams his fist down. "You expect a mere mortal to save us? The prophecy is nonsense!" His voice drips contempt as the room crackles with menacing energy.

I fix Viktor with a fiery stare. "The prophecies are our law. Question them again at your peril."

He glares back but stays silent. The others shrink away warily.

Eva speaks up, commanding attention. "How do we identify this mortal, Rhyland?" Her truth compelling power gives her words weight.

"I...don't know yet," I admit reluctantly. More uneasy whispers. My mind races, hating the prophecy's vagueness.

Cole runs a hand through his hair. "What if Moretemis finds them first?" His blood control power makes him uniquely dangerous. "We must protect them."

"I'm handling it," I snap. "Lucian may know more. I'll go to Seattle and get answers." The thought of that chaotic city already exhausts me.