[...]
Birds were still nestled in their abodes when Amara emerged from the modest hut, heading for the Vampire Clan; she waved at Violet, who stood by the door watching her. She carried with her a multitude of uncertainties about her future, which loomed before her, shrouded in doubt and ambiguity.
Violet returned the wave to the girl and felt a surge of helplessness; she knew destiny had its share of surprises in store for the young lady, yet her hands were tied from intervening. After all, Amara was like a river, destined to carve its natural path unimpeded.
[...]
Amara took in the forest's splendor, just as she reveled in the sunrise. Its beams embellished the landscape uniquely, and as the sunlight kissed her skin, warmth suffused her, both internally and externally.
She was still acclimating to her new powers; her hearing had sharpened remarkably—she could discern even the dewdrops slipping from leaves to earth.As concern gnawed at her, she dreaded that her thirst for blood might one day spiral out of control.
After an extensive trek, she reached the vast valley that bisected the werewolf territory and the Vampire Clan. As she prepared to cross to the other side, knowing there would be no turning back, she couldn't help but glance backward, a pang of sorrow striking her for leaving behind her beloved father and friends.
As Amara took her initial steps through the valley, a sense that she was not alone washed over her. A hiss resonated from within her; she sensed impending danger. Her vampiric nature surged forth, and she grew vigilant. In an instant, a colossal wolf, adorned with long, ash-gray fur, lunged at her. It attacked, but Amara dodged with agility. Wondering if she could defeat the formidable beast, three additional wolves appeared, cornering her.
Fear flooded her heart, and just as she sensed her plight was hopeless, a voice echoed in her head.
"Command them to stand down."
Amara, bewildered, was uncertain how to proceed. In her distraction, a second wolf assaulted her, tearing skin with its claws—eliciting a scream of pain. Realizing it was werewolves sent by Brandon, the fear within her heart turned into a venomous hatred. As a third wolf attempted another strike, an authoritative voice issued from her lips.
"Stand down," demanded Amara, her voice chill enough to shatter the soul of any being.
In kind, all the wolves backed away but kept their gazes fixed on her.
Noticing their response, Amara focused and issued a second command.
"Return to your Alpha, and dare not look back."
The wolves obeyed, aligning side by side as they retreated toward the royal castle, allowing Amara to resume her journey.
[...]
By nightfall, she arrived at a vast vampire commune. The streets were narrow and lit, the houses showcased Victorian elegance—an environment unlike anything she had anticipated. The sparse passersby shot her hostile glances; nevertheless, Amara felt neither intimidation nor discomfort, aware that to them, she was merely a foreign interloper. She continued her walk, absorbing her surroundings with keen interest. As she proceeded, a sinister-looking vampire blocked her path. Amara squinted, scrutinizing the man from head to toe. He was garbed in dark attire with worn, black boots and a long coat reaching his ankles. Adding to the man's ominous aura was an old hat that largely concealed his face. He approached the girl and began to speak.
"What business does a young lady like yourself have wandering alone in this community?"
"I seek Vicent Moriarty," she replied, not one for preambles.
"Oh, indeed. He's always the one people are looking for," the man said mockingly.
"I have urgent matters to discuss with him. If you would be so kind as to guide me to him, I would be most grateful."
"I'll escort you to him in exchange for that necklace you're wearing," the man suggested, his voice laced with greed.
Amara couldn't suppress a smirk at the man's audacious demand. Noting his unwillingness, she decided she would have to compel him.
"Here's a better idea. You will take me to Vicent Moriarty, and I shall keep my necklace."
"You're quite the fool if you think I will comply," said the vampire, spitting the words with disdain.
At those words, Amara focused intently, clearing her mind, and when ready, she issued her command emphatically.
"I order you to take me to Vicent Moriarty immediately."
The man's demeanor shifted to one of compliance, and he nodded submissively.
"Please, miss, follow me. We are not far from my master's castle."
[...]
True to the man's word, they were not far from the castle. However, it sat at the end of an incline, making the journey challenging. The path was steep and studded with rocks, and while the man advanced with ease, Amara wasn't as fortunate—she stumbled several times.
As they drew near the castle, Amara couldn't help but admire its exterior—the walls were made of stone and stood exceedingly high, with a vast iron gate at the center, lending an air of mystique and gloom.
Feeling a wave of emotion, Amara stood before the castle that had once been her mother Katherine's home for many years.
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