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Within thirty-six hours, the burnt skin had completely come away, and there was no scar tissue or anything to indicate that I had ever been wounded. My pride was salvaged as I could still show off my physique without worrying that I might frighten everyone.Believe me, I was that vain.

Over the next few weeks, we had a steady stream of people arriving to stay with us permanently. Many were our families,but we were surprised when others, who had no blood ties to us, arrived. More than we expected had enough of the prejudices running riot around Kaltos. We were also touched when they said that they trusted us more than their own race, and by that, I mean Kaltons.

The majority of the population was shocked by the turn of events. Many sent gifts and other items to try and make amends. Despite the officials’ efforts, the mob remained elusive, despite many being identified. One questioned how hard the authorities searched. Feelings were high at the moment on Kaltos, and the refugees believed it was safer for them to distant themselves from any threat.

Especially as they felt we would rush to their defence and risk harming ourselves should they be attacked. True, at least the first part.

Soon, we had over three hundred people living in Mora, and we were occupied with building housing for them to live in.

Nights were spent clearing the forest away, so more villas could be built. Tobais was kept busy as orders for wooden furniture came in. More than he could hope to deal with. Luckily, there were several other wood smiths among the people who emigrated to Mora, so he had help. We maintained the system of bartering and trading for things.

Kait (the other wood smith) would take the orders and support Tobais, but he seemed happier trying to settle individuals. Most of them arrived with very little. We felt we could not trade with them until they were on their feet. Out of kindness and respect, we gave furniture and necessities as gifts, waving away thanks and promises of repayment.

Vam’pirs had plenty, and it felt good to help folks and be accepted. None of the old prejudices transferred across, and we embraced what we were. The refugees offered to keep donatingtheir blood, which we told them to forget. Let the Kaltons do it, we said.

Kaltons had shunned us and not tried to make peace and accept us, so let them make amends that way. If their perspective was different, it didn’t matter to us.

And life went on.

Our whereabouts were kept hidden; only those living at Mora knew where we were. And for their own protection, they were not exactly sure where we were on the continent.

The sole Kalton in the know was Marel, and we trusted his silence that he’d sworn to us ages ago.

Years passed, and I watched with pride as the Morans, as they identified themselves, grew. The Phase remained the same, but multiple births were more common.

Then, all of a sudden, I was celebrating Mihal’s fifteenth birthday. It had been fourteen years sincethe disaster, as we now referred to it. The time had flown by, and we didn’t know where it’d gone.

Mora had become the embodiment of what Kaltos aspired to be.

No racism, no hatred.

Morans, who had fled Kaltos, left the prejudice behind and came with open hearts and minds. Mora had grown into a close-knit community that heavily depended on each other. The villas were in close proximity, and I could say that this was the first proper town that we’d encountered since we had turned.

It was heavenly… for a while.

Chapter Nine.

As I said, Mihal celebrated his fifteenth birthday. Inka and I had given him a beautiful gold bracelet that I had designed and made. It was a name bracelet decorated with tiny diamonds set into the engraving. Today, it would be worth a small fortune. Stefan had celebrated his nineteenth a few weeks beforehand, and Maryn was a stunning lady of twenty-five.

Maryn was eagerly awaiting the birth of her first baby, which turned out to be twins. She hadn’t been involved with anyone when her Phase had begun.

Determined to birth a child, Maryn had approached a friend of Taran’s, and he had agreed to donate sperm. I think Nes’c hoped that more would come of it, but Maryn was like a shy, distrustful doe. Maryn hadn’t been able to completely forget what had happened, and that was why she had gone to Nes’c.

Nes’c was a charming man of one hundred years. He was gentle and kind and wasn’t pushy in any way. Just the perfect lover for her. Nes’c had, on Diana’s advice, gone very easy with Maryn, as it was her first time with a man.

The Vam’pirs guessed that Nes’c wanted a more permanent relationship. Diana simply reminded Nes’c of all the years theyhad left in front of them. Nes’c had nodded his agreement, and with hope blazing in his eyes, began courting her.

Maryn, in turn, asked my father for advice and was told to follow her heart.

Maryn bravely did and accepted Nes’c’s gestures uncertainly at first but with more confidence as the pregnancy progressed.

Everyone hoped for a happy ending.

Cleo had turned into the image of her mother, but she had her father’s temperament, and she led Mihal a merry dance. It was clear from the outset that Cleo was Mihal’s and vice versa, but they teased each other so mercilessly that we wondered if they would ever grow up.

Cleo was a charming young lady, and I thought a great deal of her. Even though Mihal had come to me in tears numerous times when she flirted first with this boy and then the next. I was often approached by irate fathers whose sons had received a black eye from Mihal in an argument over her.

I agreed with their ranting and told Mihal to calm down and then explained the wiles of women, as I understood them. Mihal then showed an indifference towards Cleo, which led to him flirting with the opposite sex.