It had only been a few days since Sylvester’s failed attempt to take Silas, and the tension still clung to the air like smoke. Every day, it felt like they were teetering on the edge of something, something huge, something dangerous. And now, with the prophecy beginning to unravel in ways no one could have predicted, Eva felt a sense of urgency she couldn’t shake.
She turned back to the twins, who were peacefully sleeping, their tiny faces serene. But there was a shift in the room, something dark and foreboding that made her heart race. She barely had time to register the change before she heard a faint crack, like a twig breaking underfoot.
Her breath hitched as she saw Caelum—her wolf-born son—begin to twitch, his tiny hands clenched into fists as his bones seemed to shift and crack. His face contorted in discomfort as his body seemed to stretch and grow before her eyes.
“No,” Eva whispered, taking a hesitant step forward. She could feel panic rising in her throat, but she forced herself to stay calm. “Caelum, baby, it’s too soon.”
But there was no stopping it. His body trembled as fur began to sprout from his skin, thick and dark, pushing through his baby-soft skin. It was a painful, messy process, the transformation unfolding too quickly, too violently. Eva’s heart broke at the sight, her instincts to protect him screaming at her to do something—anything—to ease his pain.
Max appeared at the door, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of his son’s transformation. He rushed forward, kneeling beside Caelum, his hands hovering above him, unsure of how to help. “Eva, what’s happening?” Max’s voice was strained, full of panic, but Eva’s steady gaze met his.
“He’s shifting. Too early.”
The sound of bone snapping filled the air, and Caelum let out a soft whimper. Eva’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes welling with tears. She pressed her hand to his head, feeling the warmth of his skin, wishing she could take away the pain.
Max gently took her hand in his, his own gaze flicking between Caelum and Eva. “We need to get him to the healer.”
But before they could act, a sudden, high-pitched giggle filled the room. Eva’s gaze snapped to Silas, her vampire-blooded son, who was sitting quietly in his crib, his small fingers playing with the blanket as his eyes glowed bright red.
“Max, look,” Eva whispered, her voice trembling.
Silas was staring at the flames in the fireplace, giggling as the fire danced in the hearth, its light reflecting in his blood-red eyes. His laughter, eerie and unsettling, sent a chill down Eva’s spine. The flicker of flames seemed to draw him in, like a moth to a flame, his tiny form entranced by the fire.
“Silas,” Max warned, his voice tense. “Get him away from the fire.”
Eva reached out to her vampire-blooded son, pulling him gently away from the dangerous warmth of the flames. Silas looked up at her, his giggles turning into an unsettling hiss. “Fire…” he whispered, the word somehow coated in a dark thrill. “It’s so pretty…”
Eva’s heart skipped a beat. She pulled him closer, her mind racing. Both of her sons, too young for their powers to be manifesting in such ways, were changing right before her eyes. The prophecy was beginning to unfold. And she had no idea what it meant.
Max turned to her, his brow furrowed with concern. “What’s happening to them, Eva? This isn’t normal.”
Eva looked at Caelum, who was still struggling against the pain of his shifting body. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the fear that mirrored her own. And then she looked at Silas, his red eyes flickering in the dim light. The twins were connected in ways she didn’t fully understand, and now, it seemed, that connection was growing stronger, more dangerous.
A soft knock at the door broke the silence, and a familiar figure entered—the seer. She had been silent for days, watching from the shadows, waiting for the right moment to speak. Now, her face was grim, her eyes clouded with foreknowledge.
“I see it,” the seer said softly, her voice like a whisper on the wind. “The prophecy is awakening. The mark beneath the skin is already starting to burn.”
Eva’s stomach twisted at the words, her instincts telling her that the seer’s warning was more than just a simple observation. “What does that mean?” she demanded, her voice trembling with urgency. “What’s happening to my sons?”
“Their fate has already begun to unfold,” the seer replied, stepping closer to Caelum, her eyes glimmering with something between pity and sorrow. “One will rise, and the other will fall. They will either save or destroy the bloodlines, but the choice is not yours, Eva. It lies in their hands. And soon, the time will come for one to be chosen by fate.”
Eva’s chest tightened, her heart racing. “How long do we have?” she asked, the fear in her voice impossible to hide. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take, how much more her sons could bear.
The seer hesitated, her eyes darkening as she looked at the twins. “You have months, maybe weeks.”
Eva’s heart sank as she looked at Max, her breath catching in her throat. The prophecy was here, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The weight of it pressed down on her, suffocating her.
Max reached for her hand, his grip firm and steady. “We won’t let them decide for us. We’ll fight it. We’ll teach them both to fight fate.”
Eva looked down at her sons, feeling the weight of the prophecy heavy in her chest. There was so much at stake, and the path ahead was uncertain, dangerous. But in that moment, she knew one thing for certain.
She would fight for them. For both of them.
She would teach them both to fight fate.
