Alex didn't go home after the attack.
Mara took him somewhere quieter—an old apartment building on the edge of the city, long abandoned by humans but carefully maintained. The walls were lined with faded photographs and old newspaper clippings, all yellowed with age.
"This place belonged to your family," Mara said.
Alex stopped walking. "That's not possible. My dad worked construction. My mom was a nurse. We're… normal."
Mara looked at him sadly. "Normal is what they wanted you to believe."
Rafe was already inside, standing near a cracked mirror. He didn't turn when Alex entered.
"Your mother knew," Rafe said. "She carried the Old Blood, same as you."
Alex felt like the ground shifted beneath him. "No. She died in a car accident."
Rafe finally faced him. "That's what you were told."
The room felt too small. Too tight.
Mara handed Alex a thin leather journal. "She kept this hidden. We've protected it until you were ready."
Alex opened it with shaking hands.
The pages were filled with handwriting he recognized instantly—his mother's. Notes about dreams, marks beneath the skin, fear of hunters watching too closely. Sketches of the same crescent claw burned into his shoulder.
Tears blurred his vision.
"She was a Warden," Rafe said quietly. "One of the last. She protected this city for years without anyone knowing."
Alex swallowed hard. "Then why did she leave? Why raise me like this was never real?"
"Because Wardens don't live long," Mara said. "And she wanted you to have a choice."
Alex clenched his fists. "The hunters killed her."
Rafe didn't deny it.
"They failed to take you," he said. "So they waited."
The mark burned again, hotter than ever.
Alex closed the journal slowly. Something inside him hardened—not into rage, but into clarity.
"She didn't run," he said. "She hid me."
Mara nodded. "And now the blood has finished what she started."
Alex looked up, eyes steady.
"Then I'll finish what she couldn't."
Outside, thunder rolled over the city.
The Old Blood stirred.
And a legacy long buried had finally returned.