The wind screamed louder than Evelyn's thoughts.
She ran, Lucien pulling her through the trees like a shadow come alive. Branches clawed at her arms, the sky above roaring with lightning. Behind them, something followed. She could feel it—not a sound, not a step—but a coldness wrapping around her spine, whispering her name.
"Evelyn..."
They burst out of the woods near the edge of town, just as the streetlamps flickered on—then off.
Lucien skidded to a stop. His golden eyes scanned the street. "They're here."
Evelyn gasped for breath. "Who's here?!"
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a dagger—not metal, but something black and gleaming like obsidian. It pulsed with a low red light.
A vampire weapon.
She swallowed hard. "Lucien, talk to me. Now."
He glanced at her. "They're called Night Watchers. Seraphine's personal hunters."
As if on cue, three figures stepped into the light. They weren't like the rogue from school—these moved with deadly grace, dressed in midnight cloaks that shimmered like oil. Their faces were masked, but their eyes glowed silver.
Lucien pushed Evelyn behind him. "Don't speak. Don't run. Whatever you do, don't scream."
One of the Watchers raised its hand.
In an instant, Lucien vanished from her side, appearing mid-air, slamming his dagger down.
CLANG!
The blade met the Watcher's hand—and bounced off.
Evelyn's heart stuttered.
They were fast. Too fast.
The second Watcher appeared behind her.
Lucien shouted, "EVELYN—MOVE!"
She ducked just as claws sliced the air where her head had been. Instinct took over—she grabbed a broken metal pipe from the ground and swung with all her strength. It hit the Watcher's arm—and did nothing.
The creature grabbed her throat.
Her vision blurred.
Then—BOOM—a burst of red light exploded between them.
The Watcher flew back, screeching.
Lucien stood, eyes blazing, blood trickling down his cheek. "Don't touch her."
Another flash, and he was gone again—fighting, dodging, slashing. But they were outnumbered, and Evelyn could see it: he was slowing down.
Her hands trembled as she looked at the mark on her wrist. The crescent moon scar glowed faintly. A warmth spread through her palm, then up her arm.
What's happening to me?
Another Watcher lunged—but stopped mid-air.
Frozen.
Evelyn had raised her hand without thinking—and the creature dropped like stone, unmoving.
Lucien paused, eyes wide. "You activated it..."
"Activated what?" she gasped.
"Your bloodline's gift," he whispered. "You're awakening."
Before she could ask what he meant, the last Watcher let out a shriek that echoed through the air—then vanished into black smoke.
The others followed.
The street fell silent again.
Lucien dropped to one knee, exhausted. "That was a warning."
Evelyn helped him up, her fingers still glowing faintly. "You said they wouldn't come yet."
"I was wrong," he said bitterly. "You've awakened too early."
Her breath caught. "What do you mean?"
Lucien looked at her like someone seeing fire for the first time—beautiful and dangerous. "Most blood-heirs awaken at eighteen. You're barely seventeen. Something accelerated it."
A silence stretched between them.
Then Evelyn whispered, "I had a dream last night."
He stared at her. "Of what?"
"A woman. Pale skin. White eyes. She said, 'Your blood will free me.'"
Lucien's face turned white. "Seraphine."
"She's in my dreams now?"
"No," he said, his voice like steel. "She's in your mind."
Suddenly, Evelyn doubled over in pain. Her head felt like it was splitting open. She saw flashes:
A burning house.
A woman holding a baby, sobbing.
A red-eyed figure watching from the woods.
Then her own reflection—her eyes glowing white.
Lucien caught her. "Stay with me!"
"I saw her," she gasped. "She was there. Watching me. Like she knew I'd remember."
Lucien looked grim. "Then she knows everything now. Your name. Your face. Your power."
Evelyn shivered. "What does she want?"
He looked away. "To use you as a key."
"A key?"
"She wants to break the seal."
"What seal?"
Lucien hesitated, then said, "There's an ancient prison buried beneath this town. It holds something worse than Seraphine. Something even we fear."
Evelyn whispered, "What is it?"
He met her eyes. "A god."
She staggered back. "A what?!"
Lucien nodded. "A god of blood. Older than vampires. Older than time."
Evelyn couldn't breathe. Her world—already cracked—shattered completely.
"I'm just a girl," she whispered.
"Not anymore," Lucien said. "You are the last bloodline. The only one who can stop her—or unleash him."
A long silence passed.
Then Evelyn whispered, "Why me?"
Lucien stepped closer, his voice low. "Because you were chosen. And because your parents believed you'd be strong enough to fight. Even if it killed them."
Tears slipped down her cheeks. "I'm scared."
He touched her cheek gently. "Good. So am I."
She looked up. "What do we do now?"
Lucien's eyes turned serious. "We go underground."
"Where?"
"To the tombs beneath the church. Where your ancestors were buried. There's something there your mother left behind."
Evelyn blinked. "What?"
"A weapon. One made just for you."