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Through the glass, they watched as various machines were attached to Luca. Each one seemed to react strangely to his presence—readings fluctuating wildly, screens flickering with interference. His skin pulsed like captured moonlight, making the medical equipment cast dancing shadows on the walls.

“His core temperature is impossible,” Dr. Xu muttered, frowning at a display. “Even for a vampire…” She turned to her team. “Where is Dr. Stevens?”

The vampire specialist arrived moments later, his ancient features grave as he examined Luca. More tests followed—blood work, energy readings, magical assessments. Each result seemed to confuse the doctors more, their professional masks slipping as hours passed without answers.

“Look at his skin,” Sylvie whispered, pressing closer to the glass. “It’s like he swallowed starlight.”

Hunter pulled up something on his phone. “I can’t find anything in the supernatural medical databases about symptoms like this. Not even in the restricted archives.”

The pack bond thrummed with shared anxiety. Ryker’s lightning had graduated from occasional sparks to a constant crackle along the walls. Archer paced like his wolf, leaving impressions in the floor where he stepped. Zane stood immobile at the window, his frost no longer just creeping but spreading across the glass despite the room’s warming charms.

After what felt like endless hours of tests and rising tension, Dr. Xu approached them. Her usual confident demeanor had been replaced by something more hesitant. Behind her, Dr.Stevens studied a tablet showing Luca’s readings, his features creased with confusion.

“We’ve managed to stabilize his temperature somewhat,” Dr. Xu began, choosing her words carefully. “But…” She glanced at Great Uncle Johnathan, as if seeking guidance. “This isn’t like anything we’ve seen before. It’s not pathological, not an infection. His body isn’t fighting anything—it’s more like…”

“Like what?” Archer demanded, halting his restless pacing.

Dr. Stevens looked up from his tablet. “Like he’s transforming. But into what, we don’t know. All our usual treatments are just…” He gestured helplessly at the machines, half of which had stopped working entirely. “Sliding off him. Like his body knows what it needs, and it’s not this.”

Through the observation window, Luca’s skin blazed brighter than ever, like he’d swallowed pure starlight. One by one, the monitors went dark as his power overwhelmed them, until only a single screen remained functioning—stubbornly displaying his climbing temperature. All three brothers pressed closer to the glass, their wolves surging forward with protective urgency. Zane’s frost had covered half the observation room, Ryker’s lightning now arced continuously between walls, and Archer’s hands left deep dents in the window frame.

Aunt Senna pressed closer to Great Uncle Johnathan, her usual warm presence tight with fear. “There must be something?—”

“The Blackthorns,” Great Uncle Johnathan interrupted, his eyes fixed on Luca. Everyone turned to him. “They’re the oldest vampire clan in New Vale. If anyone would recognize this…”

“Sebastian,” Zane breathed, already pulling out his phone. His wolf surged forward at the prospect of help, of answers, of anything that might save their little bat.

The head of the Blackthorn Clan answered on the first ring, despite it being a Sunday. “Zane? This is unexpected.”

“Sebastian.” Zane’s voice was tight with barely controlled fear. Through their pack bond, his brothers felt the effort it took for him to maintain his alpha composure. “I need a favor. It’s Luca.”

“What’s happened?”

“He’s…” Zane watched through the glass as another wave of light pulsed beneath Luca’s skin. “Something’s wrong. Fever, unconscious, his skin is glowing. None of our doctors know what it is.”

“I’ll bring our clan’s medical archives and grimoires,” Sebastian said. “And I’ll notify Lord Richard and Lady Helena. They’ve spent centuries studying ancient bloodlines.” He paused. “Twenty minutes.”

“Your clan’s archivists?” Zane caught the significance. The Blackthorn Clan’s private researchers rarely emerged from their libraries of ancient tomes.

“If this is what the elders hinted at…” Sebastian’s voice held a mix of concern and scholarly interest. “My uncle and aunt have been theorizing about such manifestations for centuries. They’ll want to see this firsthand.”

Great Uncle Johnathan was already nodding. “I’ve alerted Lady Wei Cheng—she mentioned something about similar signs in the dragon clan’s ancient texts. The other elders are standing by.”

The pack bond thrummed with renewed anxiety. The involvement of the Blackthorn archivists and Council Elders meant this was beyond even their worst fears. These were beings who had spent millennia studying supernatural bloodlines and ancient prophecies.

“Bring whatever you think might help,” Zane said, watching another wave of light pulse beneath Luca’s skin. “And Sebastian? Hurry.”

Through the observation window, Luca’s fever seemed to climb even higher, his skin now glowing like captured moonlight. The remaining functional monitors beeped with increasing urgency while the brothers waited, their wolves growing more agitated with each passing minute.

Hunter looked up from his tablet where he’d been researching supernatural medical conditions. “The Blackthorn archivists?” he whispered to Sylvie. “They never leave their libraries.”

“That’s not helping, Hunter,” Sylvie muttered, though she squeezed her twin’s hand tighter.

Aunt Senna moved closer to Great Uncle Johnathan. “Should we call Lady Victoria too? The Lionheart records might?—”

“Already done,” he assured her. “The elders are gathering. Whatever this is…” He trailed off, watching another wave of light shimmer beneath Luca’s skin. “They’ll want to witness it themselves.”

Hold on, little bat,Zane thought, his frost spreading despite the room’s warming charms.The oldest and wisest are coming. Just hold on.