Whispers of the Past

Elena sat frozen, her fingers gripping the edge of the coffee table as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.

"He was here to claim you."

Alexander’s words echoed in her mind, bouncing against every rational thought she had left.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. "That doesn’t make sense."

Alexander didn’t move, but his gaze softened just enough to let her know he understood how overwhelming this was. "I know it’s a lot to process."

She let out a humorless laugh. "A lot to process? You just told me that some ancient vampire broke into my home because he thinks I’m... what exactly?"

Alexander hesitated, something dark flickering in his silver eyes.

"Special," he said finally. "Your bloodline is important, Elena. More important than you realize."

Elena felt her stomach churn. "That’s not an answer."

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "It’s complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it."

The sudden steel in her voice made him pause.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant hum of the city outside, indifferent to the chaos unraveling within these four walls.

Finally, Alexander sat down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees. His presence, usually so controlled, seemed heavier now, as if the weight of what he was about to say was pressing down on him.

"You’ve heard of the Old Blood, haven’t you?" he asked.

Elena frowned. The name was familiar, like an old memory she couldn’t quite grasp. "That’s just a myth. Some ancient royal vampire bloodline, right?"

Alexander’s lips twitched. "Not just vampires. And not a myth."

The room tilted slightly.

She shook her head. "No. That’s—"

"Real," he finished.

Elena exhaled sharply. "You’re saying I’m part of this ‘Old Blood’?"

"Not exactly," Alexander said. "But your family... it was once connected to them."

Elena clenched her fists. "That doesn’t explain why Lucian wants me."

Alexander leaned forward, his voice low. "Because he thinks you might be the key to waking something ancient. Something that’s been sleeping for centuries."

Elena felt a chill creep up her spine.

"And if he’s right?" she whispered.

A shadow passed over Alexander’s face.

"Then you’re in far more danger than I thought."

Outside the apartment building, hidden in the dense fog of the alleyway, a figure stood watching.

Lucian leaned against the cold brick wall, his sharp gaze never leaving the dimly lit window where Alexander and Elena sat. He could hear every word, his enhanced senses attuned to even the slightest breath.

He smirked.

"She doesn’t know," he murmured to himself.

A soft rustling behind him signaled another presence.

"She will soon," a female voice said.

Lucian turned slightly, his expression amused. "Cassandra, you really should announce yourself."

Cassandra stepped into the faint glow of the streetlamp, her raven-black eyes reflecting the light. "You’re playing a dangerous game."

Lucian chuckled. "Aren’t I always?"

She ignored his sarcasm. "If the council finds out—"

"They won’t." His voice was smooth, confident. "Not until it’s too late."

Cassandra exhaled sharply. "You’re obsessed with her."

Lucian tilted his head. "And you’re afraid."

Cassandra didn’t answer.

Instead, she glanced up at the window where Elena sat, completely unaware of the forces moving against her.

"If you push her too fast, she’ll break," she warned.

Lucian’s smirk deepened. "Or she’ll awaken."

With that, he stepped back into the shadows—

And disappeared.

Elena barely remembered falling asleep.

One moment, she had been wide awake, her mind racing with impossible truths. The next, she was somewhere else.

A vast hall stretched before her, filled with golden light that flickered like candle flames. At the far end, a figure stood, draped in shadows, their features obscured.

She felt drawn toward them, her feet moving of their own accord.

"Who are you?" she called out.

The figure did not answer.

Instead, a voice—soft, familiar—whispered around her like the wind.

"You must remember."

Elena’s breath caught.

"Remember what?" she asked.

A sudden rush of memories that weren’t hers flooded her mind—

A dagger dripping with blood.

A name spoken in fear.

A betrayal lost to time.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.