CHAPTER FOUR
The sun hadn't yet risen when Xavier jolted awake sweat clinging to his skin, heart hammering. The dream had returned, clearer than ever.
Seraphina stood in a burning cathedral, her white gown soaked in blood, her hands trembling as a black crown was lowered onto her head. Around her, faceless figures chanted in a language he didn't understand but somehow felt. The words rattled in his bones like an ancient curse.
And then her voice, soft and broken.
"You were the beginning... and the end."
He sat up, running a hand through his damp hair. The whiskey did nothing to dull the dreams. If anything, they were growing more vivid. More real.
He needed answers.
Still gripping the old journal, he grabbed his coat and keys. There was one person who might know more, Sister Miriam, a retired hunter turned archivist who now lived in the city's outskirts. She had trained his father. She knew old bloodlines, forbidden rituals... and she never sugar-coated the truth.
The air outside Miriam's cottage smelled of herbs and damp earth. Wind chimes made of bones clinked gently at the door. It was barely 6 a.m., but she was already awake, sitting by the window with tea and a hawk-eyed stare.
"You look haunted," she said before he could knock.
"I've been dreaming of her."
Miriam didn't blink. "Come in."
He stepped into the room lined with books and relics, worn, sacred, dangerous. The place smelled like old pages and secrets.
He handed her the journal. She flipped to the page marked with the Blood Oath of Elarion and read silently.
"She's cursed, isn't she?" Xavier asked.
Miriam's voice was flat. "More than cursed. She's bound. The prophecy speaks of a vampire queen whose fate is tied to a divine-blooded hunter. One of light, born of vengeance."
He stiffened. "That's me."
"Yes," she said simply. "And your blood can do two things, free her... or destroy her."
Xavier felt the weight settle on his shoulders like chains.
"If I walk away?"
"She'll keep hungering. The curse will drive her mad eventually. The world won't be ready for that."
Xavier stood, clenching his fists. "So it's on me to fix her?"
"No," Miriam said. "It's on you to decide if love is strong enough to survive the storm it brings."
~~~~~~~~
Back at her sanctuary, Seraphina stood before a mirror one that no longer showed her reflection. Her hands traced the faint scar over her chest, the spot where her heart once beat for a man she could barely remember.
Lucien returned, eyes dark.
"He's been to Miriam," he said.
"Good," she replied.
"You're not afraid he'll choose to kill you?"
"I'm more afraid he'll choose to love me."
Lucien stepped forward, hesitant. "You don't need him. You have power armies me."
Seraphina looked at him, finally seeing the truth behind his loyalty.
"You've always wanted to replace him."
Lucien didn't deny it.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But you're not him."
She turned away, her thoughts spinning.
The prophecy wasn't just about power.
It was about choice.
And fate was already moving.