While Brașov slept beneath its blanket of snow, the Council's fortress remained wide awake, pulsing with intrigue.
In the eastern wing, far from Vlad's ears, Baroness Crowell met with James Butcher. The room was lit only by an iron candelabrum, its flames casting long, twisted shadows over the war maps spread across the table.
"Vlad is growing senile," Crowell hissed, tracing a route on the map with her sharp nail. "Giving them a choice? Allowing a human to dictate terms in our own home? That is weakness."
James growled in agreement.
"If we let Alice turn the girl and walk away unpunished, others will follow. The Masquerade will collapse. Humans will start being brought inside like pets."
"Exactly." Crowell smiled thinly, cruelly. "Which is why they cannot return to this hall tomorrow."
"You want them dead here? Vlad would know."
"Not here." Crowell pointed to a narrow road winding through the forest — the only route back to the city. "Vlad said that if they failed to return on time, he would hunt them himself. Our job is not to kill them directly, James. Our job is to make sure they are delayed. That they fail."
She snapped her fingers. From the shadows emerged three women — the Sisters of the Night: Margot, Linda, and Alba. Assassins loyal only to the Baroness.
"Intercept their car on the forest road," Crowell ordered. "Make it look like an attack by feral or rogue vampires. Destroy the vehicle. Injure Alice badly enough that she can't walk. If the human dies in the process…" She shrugged. "Unfortunate collateral damage. What matters is that the deadline expires. Vlad will handle the rest."
James smiled, anticipation gleaming in his eyes.
"A perfect plan, Baroness."
In the hotel room, the silence was not one of conspiracy — but of transformation.
Kara sat by the window, watching the snow fall. She hadn't called her parents. She hadn't called Natalie. In that moment, she realized that seeking their comfort was pointless. They belonged to the day. She was about to enter the night.
She thought of Rose — of the terrifying strength the blonde vampire possessed. She remembered how helpless she had felt when Natalie was taken, how easily her parents could become targets if the Council decided to strike.
As a human, I'm a weakness, Kara thought. Alice's Achilles' heel. The reason she's in danger.
But what if she wasn't?
What if she had the same strength? The same speed?
If she became a vampire, she wouldn't need to be protected anymore. She could protect. She could be Alice's shield, her parents' guardian, the one strong enough to bring Natalie back — or stop her if necessary.
Immortality stopped feeling like a death sentence and started feeling like armor.
Kara stood and walked over to Alice, who sat on the bed with her head in her hands, carrying the weight of the world.
"Alice." Kara's voice was steady now, free of its earlier tremble.
Alice looked up, her eyes red from holding back tears.
"You've decided? We're leaving? I can erase your memory now — it won't hurt…"
"No." Kara knelt between Alice's legs, holding her cold hands. "I don't want to forget. And I don't want to run."
"Kara…"
"I want the power, Alice," Kara said, surprising even the vampire with her conviction. "I'm tired of being the victim. Tired of watching you bleed for me. I want to be strong enough to stand beside you without you fearing you'll break me. I want to protect you — from the Council, from Rose, from everything."
Alice saw the change in her. Innocence had hardened into determination.
"You understand what you're asking for? The thirst… it hurts. The sun… it burns."
"I understand." Kara pressed Alice's hand to her own racing heart. "I'm giving you my human life in exchange for our eternity. I choose you. And I choose what you are."
Alice choked on a sob and pulled Kara into a crushing embrace.
"I promise… I'll teach you. I'll be there every second. You'll never be alone in the darkness."
Minutes later, Alice stepped out onto the balcony. Snow dusted her hair as her trembling fingers dialed a number she knew by heart.
It rang twice.
"Alice?" Rose's voice sounded surprised and wary.
Alice let out a dry, ironic laugh.
"Congratulations, little sister. You win."
"What are you talking about?"
"You always said humanity was a weakness. A waste," Alice said, glancing back into the room where Kara watched her. "Well, it seems Kara agrees with you. She's decided. She's going to turn."
There was a stunned silence. Then Rose's voice came low, almost reverent.
"She… accepted? Willingly?"
"Yes. She wants power, Rose. She wants to fight."
In the end, she has more in common with you than I'd like to admit.
Rose laughed, genuine relief in her tone.
"I told you she had potential. Welcome to the club, Kara."
"Don't celebrate yet," Alice cut in, her voice turning sharp. "We're doing this. But listen to me, Rose. The Council — Baroness Crowell— I saw the way she looked at me. She won't accept this quietly."
"You think she'll try something?"
"I'm certain of it." Alice stared into the dark mountains. "They gave us two days, but I smell a trap. If something happens to me… if I can't get out of this city…"
"Don't say that," Rose snapped.
"Stay by your phone, Rose," Alice continued. "Don't trust the silence. If I call, answer. I may need you to remember that we're sisters above all else."
"I'll be waiting, Alice. I promise."
Alice ended the call. The alliance was sealed.
She returned to the room and locked the balcony door, drawing the heavy curtains to shut out the world.
The room lay in shadow. Kara stood near the bed, her coat and boots already off.
Alice walked to her. The atmosphere shifted — no longer fear or politics, but farewell and celebration.
"Alice…" Kara whispered, stepping closer. "Tomorrow, everything changes. Tomorrow, my heart stops. Tomorrow, I'll be cold like you."
Alice cupped her face, feeling the feverish warmth of human skin.
"Yes."
"Then…" Kara began unbuttoning Alice's shirt, her fingers brushing pale flesh. "I want to feel everything tonight. One last night. Love me as a human one last time. Let me feel your cold against my warmth while I still have warmth to give."
Alice needed no further invitation.
Clothes fell forgotten to the floor. They collapsed onto the bed, skin against skin.
For Alice, every touch was sacred. She memorized Kara's pulse, the flush in her cheeks, the sound of her breath — things that would soon vanish. For Kara, it was total surrender. She clung to Alice with desperate urgency, wanting to fuse with her even before the exchange of blood.
The room filled with soft gasps and the rhythm of bodies moving together. Alice was gentle, but intense, loving Kara with the devotion of someone holding onto something about to disappear.
When the climax came, Kara cried Alice's name, her heart pounding so fiercely it felt like it might burst through her chest. Alice held her tightly, absorbing the sound, the life, preserving it as the final treasure of an era about to end.
They lay entwined as the early hours of morning crept in.
It was Kara Sullivan's last night as a mortal.
And she fell asleep in the arms of the monster she loved, dreaming of eternity.