The road winding through the Carpathians was lined with black pine trees, their sharp silhouettes stabbing at the gray sky like spears.
When the rental car finally broke through the mountain pass, Brașov revealed itself in the valley below — a haunting blend of medieval, Gothic, and Baroque architecture.
Alice drove in silence, her eyes scanning every rooftop, every ancient watchtower.
"We're here," she said, her voice tight.
They parked near Piața Sfatului, the city's main square. Despite the biting cold and the weight of the summons, Kara felt an almost physical need to walk — to feel the ground of this legendary land beneath her feet before facing what lurked beneath it.
The cobblestone streets were slick with eternal mist. Hand in hand, they wandered past colorful buildings that clashed with the dark, towering presence of the Black Church dominating the skyline.
"It's beautiful," Kara murmured, watching her breath fog the air. "But it feels heavy. Like the stones are watching us."
Alice squeezed her hand.
"This city has been breathing blood for centuries, Kara. Vlad the Impaler walked these streets. The Council didn't choose this place for its beauty — they chose it for the memory of fear. They want us to feel small."
"It's working," Kara admitted, glancing up at the massive "BRAȘOV" sign on Mount Tâmpa, looming like a watchful eye.
They ducked into a small, old café to escape the wind. Hot drinks were ordered, barely touched. Kara studied the locals — closed-off faces, heavy coats — wondering how many of them knew what hid in their city's shadows.
"We should go to the hotel," Alice said suddenly. "The sun will set soon. And I need you somewhere away from curious eyes."
The hotel was a restored 19th-century mansion, with worn Persian rugs and crystal chandeliers that chimed at the slightest vibration. Their room was luxurious, but smelled of old wood and long-kept secrets.
The moment the door closed, Kara's brave front collapsed. She dropped her bag and sat on the edge of the bed, covering her face.
"What if they don't listen, Alice? What if the verdict is already written?"
Alice crossed the room in a heartbeat, kneeling between Kara's legs and pulling her hands away.
"Look at me."
Kara did.
Alice's eyes were steady, warm, and unshakable.
"They're powerful. Ancient. But they're arrogant. They expect me to beg — or you to shake. We're not giving them either."
"I'm scared," Kara whispered.
"So am I," Alice admitted. "But fear keeps us sharp."
She pulled Kara to her feet, cupping her face with both hands.
"We have a few hours before midnight. I don't want to spend them afraid. I want to spend them with you."
Kara nodded, tension melting away. She wrapped her arms around Alice's neck and pulled her close.
The kiss started slow — almost like a silent prayer — but quickly turned desperate. It was the kind of kiss meant to carve memory into the soul, in case it was the last.
They fell onto the bed, tangled in sheets and limbs. Alice, usually so restrained, kissed Kara with hungry devotion, tracing every inch of exposed skin, whispering promises against her warmth.
In that strange room, in a foreign land, their love felt like the only absolute truth left in the universe.
For a few precious hours, the Council didn't exist.
Only they did.
When the hallway's grandfather clock struck eleven, reality returned.
They dressed in silence.
Alice chose dark, formal clothes — a modern kind of armor. Kara slipped into a black coat, feeling like she was heading to a funeral — maybe her own.
"What are we going to say?" Kara asked, watching Alice adjust her collar in the mirror.
"The truth," Alice replied. "If we lie, Talia will know. If we fight, Butcher will crush us. Our only weapon is logic… and emotion."
"You said they don't care about feelings."
"They pretend not to," Alice said. "But they were human once. Even if it was a thousand years ago. We're betting on the one thing they lost — and secretly envy: humanity."
Kara took a deep breath, staring at their reflection — a vampire and a human about to challenge gods.
"I'm ready."
Midnight in Brașov was silent as a grave.
Fog spilled down from the mountains, swallowing the streets. Alice guided Kara through narrow alleys until they reached the back of the Black Church.
There, hidden at the base of the old city wall, stood an ancient iron gate — nearly invisible to anyone who didn't know where to look.
And waiting beside it was Albert.
He stood motionless, like a gargoyle brought to life, wearing the same dark hooded cloak from New York. Only his pale hands and severe jaw were visible.
Without a word, Albert turned and touched the lock.
No key.
Just a magical click.
The heavy iron gate groaned open, revealing a stone staircase descending into the earth.
"The Council awaits," Albert said. His voice didn't echo — the fog swallowed it whole.
Alice tightened her grip on Kara's hand.
"Together," she whispered.
"Together," Kara echoed.
They passed Albert without looking back and began their descent, leaving the world of the living behind and stepping into the realm of the immortals — ready to face the judgment that would decide whether their love lived or died that night.