Page 6 of Blood Sings (Beyond the Gloom #1)

“I’m in the middle of my lesson!” Aunt Sonya’s voice rang out from beyond the maze of bookshelves.

I grimaced. The youngest of the three sisters, Sonya had a voice like a foghorn and a flair for the dramatic—exactly what I didn’t need right now.

Three weeks had passed since that dreadful mission with the Sparrows. We’d completed three more sorties since then, but none dragged like today’s patrol. Hunger gnawed at me, my head throbbed, and exhaustion clung like morning dew. I longed to be anywhere but here. To listen to anyone but her.

But did we always get what we wanted? No. We did not. And every day I was reminded that others had it worse than me.

“Why are you here? Answer me,” she persisted. Then, lowering her tone to a gentle tambourine, added, “Back straight, Azalea. Don’t hunch, or you’ll develop a hump. Tiberius, stop gawking. It’s rude.”

A chuckle escaped me despite my irritation. Three hundred years old, and she hadn’t changed a bit since I sat where my twin cousins now stood.

“Mother sent word to meet her here after your class,” I replied, tracing the initials I’d carved into the wood ages ago. I stepped out into the study area, eyeing the towering bookshelves and the dust-covered antique globe on the corner of her desk. “Work kept me longer than I thought. Mind if I stay?”

Sonya glanced at her children, then fixed her crimson gaze on me. “Only if you don’t interrupt.”

“You won’t even know I’m here,” I promised, zipping my lips.

She clicked her tongue. “I’ve heard that before.”

Ignoring her remark, I slipped into the empty seat beside Tiberius and nudged his bony shoulder. “Hey, Ty. What’s today’s lesson?”

His grin revealed sharp milk fangs that hadn’t fallen out yet. “We’re diving into the war.”

“The war,” I echoed, leaning in conspiratorially. “I slept through that one.”

He stifled a giggle under Sonya’s sharp glare.

“And you got in trouble for it,” she interjected and turned to her daughter. “Azalea, in which year did our northern neighbor, the Tsardom of Russkaya, declare war and send the first wave of hybrids?”

I leaned back, glancing at Azalea over Tiberius’ sable curls. Though born minutes apart, her shoulder-length hair was the only thing setting them apart. Both had the typical look of kids in puberty: pale, nearly translucent skin, vivid red eyes, and slender frames.

Azalea straightened up. “The Nightwatch first spotted the Stalkers ninety-four years ago, in nineteen thirty-five of the Republic Calendar and thirty-seventeen in Solanthia.”

That’s right. I’d been six years old when the deafening alarms blared across the Republic.

“Well done,” Sonya commended. “What actions did the government take after Russkaya breached our walls, Tiberius?”

He shot me a wary look. Was he afraid his response might upset me? That’s why he’s my favorite cousin. “They evacuated all pureblood citizens beyond the Seventh Ward and enacted the Total Rendition law.”

Sonya nodded, prompting further. “And what did this law entail?”

“It took away the halfbloods’ civil rights and labeled them as Russkaya’s supporters,” he said, forehead wrinkling. “By then, our soldiers had pushed the hybrids up north, but we lost the last three wards. The government decided to put the criminals in detention camps between the ruins and reinstated mandatory conscription.”

The way his voice dropped each time he spoke those words told me he didn’t agree with the historians’ chosen labels. Hope bloomed inside my chest as I shifted to the edge of the chair, the leather suit creaking like an old saddle.

Change in the younger generation’s view about the injustice of the Total Rendition could start here, right now, with my two young cousins. What my father had taught me could be passed down.

Sonya exhaled in frustration. “Do you have something to add, Aurora? Your fidgeting is distracting.”

“If you don’t mind,” I said, rising to crouch between the twins. “Lea, Ty, do you like playing goblin-gobble-bean-bag-toss with your friends?”

They nodded eagerly, welcoming the break from their lesson.

“It’s a great game, isn’t it? Sonya, remember Mother’s freak-out during the Fateless Festival in nineteen forty-one?”

Her face softened, but her terse reply urged me to get to the point. “She searched everywhere for you. You’re lucky she didn’t send the entire Nightwatch on your trail.”

I smiled and turned back to the twins. “That night, I discovered the magic of goblin-gobble-bean-bag-toss. Do you know what made me fall so in love with it that I forgot about my curfew?”

“Was it the losers’ chant at the end?” Azalea chirped.

My grin widened. “That too, but mostly it was the company. I met kids who made me feel accepted, regardless of our differences. Do you feel the same about your friends? I’ve noticed half your group are the servants’ children.”

“With some of them, yes,” Tiberius replied.

“Now, what if at your next playdate, your pureblood friends introduce a new rule? One that bans original players because they say the Creators’ blood makes them more powerful?”

“That’s not true!” Azalea protested, her voice rising to a shrill. “Purebloods and originals have the same blood magic.”

“Yeah, and they’re just as strong,” Ty chimed in. “The only difference is our Darklings, but they don’t help us in the game anyway.”

I nodded. “I agree with you, but they don’t see it that way. They think you’re cheating. You argue, and they find new excuses to exclude you. This time”—I traced a finger up Azalea’s slender neck—“it’s the shape of your ears. They say they’re not pointed enough to match theirs.”

“But that’s not fair!” they exclaimed in unison.

Pride swelled within me. “No, it’s not,” I agreed.

I met Sonya’s gaze, a silent plea for her approval to continue. Teaching was her domain, and I didn’t want to overstep. My lengthy experience with outliers made me biased, and I preferred letting the twins form their own conclusions.

Her response was a slow, deliberate blink. Alright then .

“Think about what happened to the mixed-breed citizens,” I began. “Even now, we lack evidence to prove they collaborated with Russkaya. You’re too young to know this, and the books documenting how the Republic once welcomed other races have been banned. But before the war, mixed-breeds and purebloods were inseparable.” I hooked my index fingers together to illustrate.

Tiberius’s eyes widened. “They were?”

“Oh, yes. Good friends,” I said. “After the Stalkers breached the walls, the government created this rule to banish them based on nothing concrete—”

“The Total Rendition,” he murmured, deep in thought.

I nodded, my heart swelling. He’d drawn the conclusion himself. I’d known his intonation on those words had been more than a dislike for the subject matter.

“We hate the mixed-breeds and call them names because they look different from us. Do you think it’s fair to judge people on their physical and social differences?”

They both shook their heads, but only Azalea spoke up. “No, it’s not,” she muttered. “But how can we be sure they didn’t betray us?”

Sonya closed the history book and pushed it away. “We can’t,” she said. “Not until a thorough investigation proves their innocence, which is impossible while the war rages. Perhaps after Dracula awakens and ends it, we’ll be able to shed some light on this puzzle.”

Guilt and confusion battled across my cousin’s face.

“Lea,” I said softly, “it’s okay to have doubts, as long as you remember that just because something could have happened, it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

She nodded, a thoughtful hum escaping her throat.

Ty’s gaze darted between me and his mother, building courage. Finally, he asked, “Do you think they’ll come back if the government revokes the Total Rendition?”

“With how things are now, I don’t believe they would,” I replied honestly.

No matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise, I couldn’t envision Stoneheart and the Sparrows living peacefully in the Republic after all they’d endured. Gripping the high backrest of Tiberius’ seat, I rose to my feet, searching for the right words to explain without sounding prejudiced.

“Hate can only sow more hate,” I said at last. “The mixed-breeds don’t like us very much”— understatement of the year —“for forcing them into conscription. They and their loved ones suffered too much to trust that we’d welcome them back after what we did. For many, that trust is lost forever.”

Ty’s expression fell, and my heart ached for him.

I met his dull, wet gaze. “It’s our job to rebuild that trust, so if they choose to return, they find a home where they feel safe and wanted. We can start by seeing them as our equals,” I said, smiling as color returned to his cheeks. “They might not have any blood magic or Darklings, but their control over the elements is incredible. You’ll like them.” I stroked Azalea’s head, and she looked up at me with large, hopeful eyes. “Both of you.”

The air rustled with the whoosh of shadows, and the cloying scent of stale caramel and toffee hit my nostrils. Victoria. Everyone’s smell was unique, but when their magic emerged, it became a hundred times more potent. Even if two people shared an element—like vanilla or roses—the balance differed from person to person. A person’s magic was a glimpse into their soul, and my older cousin’s was rotten to the core.

“Your compassion for those low-lives sickens me,” she snarled, her caustic tone striking my back like a whip.

Hot fury boiled inside me as I turned, flicking her off with a saccharine smile. “Like you’re one to talk. What use do you have besides casting a shadow?”

Victoria hissed like a viper, her Darklings flaring with her rising temper.

Sonya’s scent spiked. “Enough! Both of you!” She slammed her hand on the table and stood. “Twice my lesson was interrupted today. What business do you have here?” Lavender and moonflowers wafted after her as she rounded the corner, her light purple gown billowing in the thick shadows pooling at her feet.

I glanced at the twins. Their lips twitched as they watched the spectacle.

They enjoy this, the little rascals.

“I’m meeting Aunt Elena for her big announcement,” Victoria said, her nasally voice grating. “Didn’t she say anything to you?”

I snapped my head toward her. This was news to me, and from Sonya’s dumbfounded look, she didn’t know either.

“No, she did not,” Sonya muttered.

Victoria shrugged, her hideous frilly gown riding up around her ankles. “I suppose there was no need since you were already here.” She focused on me, a cruel smirk curling her thin lips. “Cousin, erase that pathetic look on your face. If Derzelas thought you worthy, he would have gifted the shadows to you a long time ago. It’s not like they’ll come if you stare hard enough.”

“Azalea, Tiberius, lesson’s over. Gather your things and go to your rooms,” Sonya ordered, her tone turning icy.

Though the twins were old enough to understand right from wrong, I agreed with her decision to keep them out of family politics. They had an eternity ahead to witness our squabbles.

I was so used to Victoria’s barbs that her comment bounced right off me. But I couldn’t deny the burning desire to best her and strip her of her Darklings.

The shadows set us apart from the purebloods, alongside our eye color and ear shape. A gift from our Dark Father, they helped originals—even young ones like my twin cousins—escape sunlight and preserve our bloodline. But with technological advances making them obsolete, they’d been repurposed for transportation, moving us a thousand times faster than our natural ability.

I let out an ironic laugh. My ancestors were the first originals on this continent, yet I couldn’t even ride my own ‘shadowmobile.’ Royal status or not, I was the only original in history who couldn’t summon the Darklings at my age.

It was a shame—a weakness in the Tepes coven. A… lack of discipline, as my mother might say.

Rejecting her presence from my eyeline, I stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows, waiting for the twins to leave. Adrenaline surged in my veins and urged me to strike back.

“Oh, cousin, ” I spat the toxic word as if it pained me to speak it, “you should really work on your motivational speeches—they’re almost as uplifting as your bland personality.”

Her frustrated groan filled me with petty pride. Victoria had a knack for bringing out the worst in me, and while I usually resisted, today, I welcomed it.

“Keep talking like that,” she retorted, absorbing the shadows back into herself, “and someone will backhand the wits out of you.”

I placed my palm on my heart. “Your concern is touching. Are you offering, or is this just more worthless yapping?”

An explosion of amber and spices filled the air. “AURORA!” Mother thundered, her steely voice settling like lead in my bones.

Her Darklings had moved silently, depositing her near the crackling hearth.

Forcing a smile, I made to greet her, but she silenced me with a scathing glare.

“Since when do you speak like that, arguing like a lowly commoner?” she seethed, dispersing the shadows with an elegant flick of her wrist. “It’s unacceptable. This is not how a queen behaves.”

The train of her dress swished softly as she glided over to Sonya’s chair. I lowered my head, focusing on the rubies embroidered into the corset of her midnight gown.

With her, it was better to yield than to butt heads. “I apologize, Mother. It won’t happen again.”

Victoria snickered, drawing Elena’s ire upon herself.

“You petulant child,” Mother snapped. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know you’re the one who foments trouble.”

My cousin choked, and I swallowed a snort.

Sonya discharged her Darklings, her gilded bracelets chiming. “Alright, sister. We’re all here. What’s so important that you need to tell us?” she asked.

“The guest list for next week has had last-minute changes,” Mother announced, casting another withering glare at Victoria. “The Wurdulaks will join us for Aurora’s birthday dinner.”

My stomach plummeted.

Without sparing me a glance, even though it was my anniversary she was talking about, she continued. “I expect both of you to make the necessary arrangements to welcome the prince and his family into our house. Derzelas knows I can’t rely on anyone else to do things right.”

The ringing in my ears drowned out their replies. “Why are they coming?” I croaked.

Finally, she deigned to look at me, and I found the answer in her eyes. “Why, for your hundredth birthday, of course. Lev is coming to make an official claim on you now that you’re eligible to inherit Dracula’s magic.”

The world tilted, acid rising in my throat.

Underworld’s tits.

My mind raced, searching for an escape, a loophole, anything. But Mother’s resolve was clear in the set of her jaw, the steel in her eyes. This wasn’t a request or a suggestion—it was a decree.

“You can’t be serious,” I drawled, fear twisting in my gut. “You’ll hand me over to the people who trampled Father’s name and usurped my throne? I won’t accept him!”

I had assumed her encouragement of Lev was just another one of her games, a way to exact her revenge, but now I wasn’t so sure.

“Don’t be immature! This is politics. You’ll leave the army and secure this alliance I’ve worked so hard to maintain. This is your purpose. This is who you were always meant to be, not running off playing war games.”

A growl left my lips, a bastard child between a roar and a whine.

The idea of marrying Lev without love felt like a plastic bag over my head—I could endure it for a while, but I still needed a breath of fresh air when there was none left.

“If Father were alive, he would never have agreed to this,” I muttered and immediately regretted it.

Mother had many faults, but no one could deny her love for him. Her gaze softened, and hope flickered in my heart.

Then she spoke.

“Until you come into your power, focus on making the prince fall in love with you,” she hissed.

Like that’s what Lev wants. Love.

Dracula’s magic wasn’t just the most powerful—it controlled both immortal and mortal blood. Lucian’s power to conjure blood and shape it into physical objects, or Marcus’ ability to reanimate mortal bodies, paled in comparison to their oldest brother’s ability to compel them to do his bidding.

The Wurdulaks coveted the Blood Aura. Mother either couldn’t see it, or didn’t care, as long as the Tepes name stood at the head of the monarchy again. I leaned toward the latter.

She spun on her heels, shadows leaking from her palms.

“Duty and honor come first. I won’t leave my post,” I yelled, fighting back tears. “We’re still at war. People rely on me. Russkaya took Father away from us! Or have you conveniently forgotten that, too?”

Her body stiffened. “Your duty is to our coven alone. Honor your birthright, then you’re free to do as you please. This discussion is over,” she retorted before vanishing in black smoke.

“No one ever wins with her,” Sonya added oh-so-helpfully and disappeared with her Darklings.

I stared into the flickering fire, nails biting into my palms. This can’t be happening. The pressure behind my eyes reached unbearable heights, and the need to cry, to release this pent-up energy, made me sick to my stomach.

A shadow stirred in the moonlight filtering through the windows, and I jerked my head to find Victoria sneering at me.

“Don’t let us all down, cousin,” she snarled.

That was all it took.

I snapped.

My body lunged at her, but her Darklings whisked her away before I had a chance to grab her hair. Peals of laughter trailed after her, echoing down the corridor like foxes in heat.

“I hope the Stalkers tear you apart, bitch!” I screamed at the slamming doors and collapsed in tears as our family motto sealed together.

Semper Fidelis: Always faithful.

How did my life end up like this?