The figure didn't move.
They stood still at the forest's edge, half-covered by fog, as if the night itself had shaped them.
Viana's fingers twitched. Her heartbeat changed rhythm — slower, sharper. Her hybrid instincts kicked in.
She could smell magic.
Old magic.
She grabbed her coat and rushed out of the house, barefoot, ignoring the cold grass beneath her feet. But by the time she reached the spot, the figure was gone.
Only a faint scorch mark remained on the ground — shaped like a crescent moon stabbed by a blade.
She recognized it instantly.
The symbol from Lucian's book.
---
The next morning, she found Lucian at the town's bakery, sipping coffee alone. His eyes widened when he saw her storm in.
"You were followed," she said. "Last night. Someone was watching my house."
Lucian stood up immediately. "What did you see?"
Viana showed him the symbol she had sketched.
He froze.
"That… was the seal of the Eldritch Coven," he said. "They're the ones who hunted my mother."
Viana's stomach dropped. "I thought they were destroyed."
Lucian shook his head. "They vanished. But the moment that symbol reappears… it means they're active again."
"And you think they're after you?"
"No," he said quietly. "I think they're after *us*."
---
Back at Viana's house, Lucian laid out maps, books, and charms across her dining table. His hands were steady, but his jaw was tight.
"The Eldritch Coven doesn't just hunt people with magic," he explained. "They believe hybrids are abominations. Against nature."
"So they know I exist?" Viana asked.
Lucian nodded. "If they saw the Crimson Star rise during the Kaligard war… they definitely know."
Viana felt anger bubble inside her. "I'm tired of running."
"So am I," Lucian said.
They looked at each other.
It wasn't just fear anymore. It was resolve.
---
That night, the fog rolled in again — thick and heavy.
Lucian stayed at Viana's house. They sat near the fireplace, the flames casting golden light on their faces.
"Tell me about your parents," he asked gently.
Viana smiled faintly. "My mother is fierce. A werewolf. Stronger than anyone I know. My father… calm, wise, kind. A vampire who taught me to never use my power for revenge."
Lucian smiled. "Sounds like the perfect balance."
"They made me who I am."
Lucian hesitated. Then, with quiet courage, he spoke.
"I lost my parents too young. I barely remember their faces. But every time I use magic… I hear my mother's voice. She used to say: *'What makes you different makes you powerful.'*"
Viana reached out and gently placed her hand over his.
"I think your mother was right."
---
Just as the warmth grew between them, the candles flickered.
All of them.
A whisper echoed through the house — not a voice, but a presence. Cold. Ancient.
The windows fogged up instantly, and on the glass, words began to write themselves from the inside out:
**"The blood of two shall awaken the curse."**
Lucian stood, hand already glowing with energy.
Viana's fangs pricked at the edges of her mouth.
The front door slammed open.
And there, in the hallway, stood the hooded figure — real this time.
But before either of them could move, the figure threw back their hood.
It was a woman.
Her skin was pale as moonlight, eyes black as ink, and her voice was like cracked glass.
"You don't know what you've done, child," she hissed at Lucian. "She is the key."
Viana stepped in front of him. "What do you want?"
The woman raised her hand — a mark glowed on her palm, the same crescent moon-and-blade symbol.
"We warned the world not to create one like you."
Viana's body tensed. "I wasn't created. I was *born*."
The woman snarled. "And your blood is cursed. When it mixes with his… you'll destroy everything."
Lucian shouted a spell, and a burst of light shot toward the intruder. She disappeared before it touched her.
Silence returned.
Viana turned to Lucian.
"What does she mean… 'when our blood mixes'?"
Lucian's face went pale.
"I… I think they believe we're fated. That our love could… awaken something ancient."
Viana's heart pounded.
"But we're not in love," she said, too quickly.
Lucian looked at her. "Aren't we?"
She didn't answer.
Because deep down, a part of her knew…
Maybe they already were.