The cries of the twin babies echoed softly in the chamber, one howl, one hiss, weaving together like two threads of fate that had never meant to meet.
Eva lay weak but breathing, her chest rising slowly beneath a blanket. Max sat beside her, cradling the wolf-born child in his arms while Tiana held the quieter one, the baby whose eyes flickered with something ancient and unreadable.
The room was quiet, tense, until the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. Dany stepped in first, sword drawn, eyes still wary after the siege. But it was the figure behind him that drew all attention.
The seer.
Her robes were torn and soaked from travel, her face pale and drawn, but her eyes… her eyes widened the moment they landed on the twins.
“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no…”
Max stood quickly, alarmed. “What’s wrong? What do you see?”
The seer walked closer, her gaze bouncing between the two children. She dropped to her knees before them, her hands trembling as she reached out, not to touch—but to feel.
“You misunderstood…” Her voice cracked, her entire body shaking as the truth spilled from her lips. “The prophecy wasn’t about which child would destroy the bloodlines. It was about which child would save it.”
Silence fell like a heavy blanket.
Tiana blinked. “What are you saying?”
The seer slowly looked up. “The vision was always misread. The language in the old texts… it never said one would doom us all. It said one would end the war, yes—but through union or through ruin. One child holds the key to peace between wolves and vampires. The other…” Her voice trembled. “The other will bring a fire so great, it will devour both sides.”
Eva stirred slightly on the bed, her eyelids fluttering. Max reached for her, brushing his hand over her face.
“She needs rest,” he murmured, eyes never leaving hers. “She gave everything to bring them here.”
Dany folded his arms. “And now we don’t know which baby is which?”
The seer shook her head. “No. Not yet. It is too soon. Their paths aren’t fully written.”
Tiana swallowed hard and looked down at the child in her arms. “But one of them… one of them could destroy everything.”
“Or save it all,” the seer added quickly. “Don’t forget that.”
Max paced the room, tension written in every movement. “So what do we do? Wait until one of them shows us? What if we guess wrong?”
The air grew colder in that moment.
A sharp tapping came from the window. Then again.
Everyone turned toward the sound.
Outside, framed in the moonlight, was a shadowy figure. Her cloak flared in the wind like wings. Her hair blew wildly around her face. And in her hand—gleaming and sharp—was a sword black as night.
Georgina.
Alive. Still turned. But something in her eyes was different now. Less feral. More focused.
Eva’s breath hitched, and her eyes finally opened.
“Mother…”
Max stepped protectively in front of her, but Georgina didn’t enter. She remained outside, staring at the newborns with a strange, unreadable expression.
She raised the sword slowly, tilting it toward the window so the dark metal caught the moonlight. Her voice, clear and cold, cut through the stillness.
“Then let’s find out which one’s which.”
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