The night swallowed Ariana whole.
She didn't stop running until her legs screamed in protest and the twins' breaths came out uneven against her shoulders. The forest closed in around them, thick with damp earth and salt from the nearby sea. Every snapped twig sounded like pursuit. Every rustle felt like eyes watching.
Only when the wards finally settled—thick, layered, humming softly like a heartbeat—did Ariana allow herself to collapse against a tree.
Her chest burned.
Her hands shook.
The twins clung to her, small fingers digging into her coat, their fear vibrating against her skin.
"He almost saw us," one whispered.
Ariana closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to theirs. "I know."
Her mind replayed the moment again and again—Jayden standing in her doorway, close enough to touch, close enough to ruin her. The way his eyes had darkened when he felt her pulse spike. The way his voice had softened when he said her name, like it still belonged to him.
Worse—the way her body had answered.
She swallowed hard.
"I need you to listen to me," she said quietly. "What happened tonight can never happen again. No sounds. No power. No matter what you feel."
"But he's strong," the other twin said, brows knitting together in a way far too old for such a small face. "He feels like us."
Ariana's breath caught painfully.
"That's exactly why," she said, forcing steadiness into her voice. "You must stay hidden."
The twins nodded, but unease lingered behind their eyes.
They felt it too.
Blood remembered blood.
Jayden tore the cottage apart.
Not in a blind rage—but with precision, control hanging by a thread. Every shattered ward, every lingering trace of Ariana's scent only fueled the fire coiling tighter in his chest.
Children.
He paced the small space, hands clenched behind his back, jaw locked so tightly it ached.
He replayed everything.
The way she had stepped in front of them without thinking.
The panic in her eyes—not fear of him, but fear for them.
The power surge when she shoved him back—raw, instinctive, maternal.
Maternal.
The word slammed into him like a blade.
"No," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
That wasn't possible.
He would have known.
Wouldn't he?
And yet… something about those children had tugged at him. A strange pull he couldn't name. His instincts had screamed not hunger, not threat—but recognition.
It made no sense.
He left the cottage abruptly, cloak snapping behind him as he vanished into the night.
The vampire council chamber was colder than usual.
Jayden stood before them, expression carved from stone, golden eyes burning with restrained fury.
"She's alive," he said flatly. "And she's hiding something powerful."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
"One human cannot evade you for five years without assistance," an elder said. "Unless—"
"Unless she's no longer just human," Jayden finished coldly.
That earned silence.
Another voice cut through it. "We've sensed disturbances. Fluctuations in power that don't align with any known bloodline."
Jayden stiffened.
"Where."
The elder hesitated. "Scattered. Unstable. As if the power doesn't yet understand itself."
Children, his mind whispered.
His fists clenched.
"If any of you touch her," Jayden said quietly, "I will burn this council to ash."
No one doubted him.
Ariana didn't sleep.
She sat by the fire long after the twins drifted off, watching the flames twist and curl like restless spirits. Her body ached—not just from the run, but from the near collision with everything she had buried.
Her fingers brushed her collarbone unconsciously, right where Jayden's gaze had lingered.
Heat coiled low in her stomach, unwanted and treacherous.
Five years hadn't dulled it.
If anything, it had sharpened.
She pressed a hand to her abdomen, a familiar protective gesture, even though the twins were long past that stage now.
"I won't let him take you," she whispered into the quiet.
But a darker truth curled beneath the promise.
If the prophecy was true… it wouldn't matter what she wanted.
It happened at dawn.
They were passing through a quiet coastal village—hoods drawn low, steps measured—when it slipped.
A child tripped.
A scream rang out.
Time slowed.
The sound wave shattered a nearby window in a violent burst of glass.
People froze.
Ariana's heart stopped.
"No," she whispered.
The air thickened, pressure building, rippling outward like a pulse. The twins stared at their hands in horror as the ground trembled beneath their feet—only slightly, but enough.
Too much.
Too visible.
Ariana reacted instantly.
She pulled them close, whispering sharply, forcing everything she had into suppressing the surge. The tremor died. The air stilled.
But it was already too late.
Someone was watching.
Far away, Jayden staggered mid-step, breath leaving him in a sharp exhale as power slammed into his senses.
There it was again.
Stronger this time.
Clearer.
He turned without hesitation, vanishing into the shadows.
That night, Ariana dreamed of blood and ink.
Of hands reaching for her from the dark.
Of golden eyes watching from behind veils of fire.
Of three figures standing at the edge of the world—two bound together, one still hidden in shadow.
She woke with a gasp, sweat cooling on her skin.
The twins slept peacefully.
But the air felt wrong.
Charged.
She rose quietly, stepping outside—and froze.
A figure stood at the treeline.
Not Jayden.
This one smiled slowly, eyes glowing crimson.
"You're running out of places to hide," the vampire said softly. "The children have been marked."
Ariana's spine went cold.
"Touch them," she said, power curling dangerously beneath her skin, "and there will be nothing left of you to warn the others."
The vampire laughed. "Oh, I'm not here to take them."
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
"I'm here to tell you he's coming."
He vanished.
Ariana stood trembling beneath the stars.
Because she knew exactly who he was.
And this time…
Running might not be enough.