Chapter 267
Two weeks later, and the talk of the strange vampire still hadn’t faded from the community.
It didn’t matter that there hadn’t been another sighting since that night. Fear had a way of lingering, growing teeth in people’s minds. You could almost taste it in the air—thick, metallic, and stubborn.
As I had predicted, night movements and activities were banned. The decree had come swiftly, like a blade in the dark. The beasts were released earlier than usual; unlike before, they weren’t just patrolling our own community—they were making rounds in others too.
Even school hours had been clipped short. No more lingering for extracurricular activities until twilight. Everything had to be done before five o’clock, no exceptions, so that everyone could be home before the sun slid behind the horizon.
Because that was when the vampires came.
Or at least, according to the books Diana and I had stolen from the library.
Under the watchful eyes of our parents and the beasts of the night, Diana and I still found ways to slip away once every three days. The forbidden library was a place we knew better than our own school now—not because we were welcome there, but because we had become thieves in its silence.
We didn’t linger to read anymore. We moved fast, hands brushing over the spines of ancient texts, picking what we thought might last us the next three days, then leaving before the air could shift and betray us.
Looking back now, I’m convinced the only reason we hadn’t been caught by the roaming beasts was because they had no intention of catching us right in the act, and sending us to the queen.
They knew we were there.
And strangely… instead of feeling curtailed by that truth, I felt emboldened.
One particular book we’d found changed everything.
It confirmed something the Lycan King had once said—that there were “good ones” among that evil species. Except… it wasn’t exactly as he’d made it sound.
The book claimed that vampires weren’t born evil.
They began as something else—something purer.
They were called The Ancients.
According to the text, the Ancients came into existence through an unnatural union between angels and humans. Children of such a union bore within them a strange, warring will—a hunger for blood that, if unchecked, could drive them to kill. Blood wasn’t just sustenance to them. It was power. It was life, condensed and burning.
The Ancients lived by a strict rule: never kill while feeding. They could drink, but they could not take a life. To kill while feeding was to invite something dark into the soul—a beast that waited beneath the skin, patient and eager.
The book was clear. The moment an Ancient gave in to the intoxicating rush of blood, to the surge of power that came with taking it all, the beast took over. Irrevocably.
The Ancient became a vampire.
From there, the descent was rapid. The beast within them craved the kill, craved the turning of humans into creatures as blackened as themselves. Their bodies began to decay, rotting from the inside out.
The only way they could hold any semblance of beauty was to mask themselves with an illusion of youth—and even then, most couldn’t maintain it for long.
Only the strong ones could.
The ones who had fed on powerful blood over the centuries—the blood of innocents, infants, and nursing mothers.
And those vampires… those were the most dangerous.
They were also jealous of the Ancients—jealous enough to wipe them out entirely. The book spoke of a dark mage, a virus, and a slow genocide. The females of the Ancients miscarried, became barren. One by one, the race withered into extinction.
I had read that page over and over, my skin prickling, my mind circling back to the vampire I had met in the forest. The way he had hidden his face. The stench. The threat.
If he had been an Ancient once… what had he been before
“Hey, Dora p>
The voice startled me out of my thoughts. It was thin and hesitant, like a thread fraying at the edges.
I turned to find Levina standing right beside me.
“Levina,” I said flatly, arching a brow. “What can I do for you p>
Her gaze skittered away from mine, as though afraid of the weight in it.
Levina—traitor, opportunist—looked more alone than I’d ever seen her. Her best friend had been exiled for a full season, Raul had taken an inexplicable interest in silence instead of her, Sinclair was in a different class entirely, and our peers… well, they weren’t blind.
They had seen her shifts in loyalty. They had watched her float from me to Rachel like a leaf caught in a sudden gust.
It seemed the wind had died, and now she stood in the stillness of her own making.
I should have felt nothing. Instead, I felt… slightly appeased.
“I She paused, glancing around the room. Our classmates had noticed her too, their whispers curling in the corners.
“I don’t have all day, Levina,” I said, my voice sharp. “Speak, or get out of my space p>
She sucked in her lower lip, held it there, then released it with a small breath. “My father wants to see you p>
I stilled. We were no longer friends, but Mr. Lethon was still a respected figure in my life.
Still… “If this is some ploy to get me to follow you somewhere, you’re going to pay for it,” I warned.
She didn’t reply. She only lifted her chin in some stubborn, silent challenge and walked out.
Fame, I thought, following her, had a way of peeling people open. Showing you the marrow of who they really were.
“Mr. Lethon,” I said the moment I stepped into the principal’s office. “Levina mentioned you wanted to see me p>
My eyes landed first on her—sitting on the arm of his chair like she belonged there—then on him, hunched slightly over a spread of documents.
At my voice, he looked up, frowned, and shifted his gaze to his daughter.
Of course.
He hadn’t called for me at all.
My arms folded across my chest, my glare settling on Levina with all the heat I could muster.
“Levina,” Mr. Lethon said slowly, “what is happening here? What is this… hostile energy between you two p>
Oh, poor man. He didn’t know. He still thought we were friends.
“Nothing much, Dad,” Levina said airily. “She’s just jealous that I’m close to the queen’s children, and stopped talking to me. But that’s not the p>
“Wait a minute.” Mr. Lethon’s chuckle was dry, humorless. His eyes sharpened as they fixed on her. “What did you just say p>
For once, her mouth went still.
“You’re telling me,” he said slowly, “that you’ve stopped being friends with Dora… and now you’re close to Rachel? The same Rachel who ruined your first years as a teenager?” His voice hardened. “Are you high on something p>
Levina slid off the armrest, pouting like a child. I wondered how I had never noticed just how spoiled she looked when things didn’t go her way.
“Answer me, young lady p>
“She doesn’t bully me anymore,” Levina muttered. “She even gave me a friendship bracelet.” She held up her wrist like proof.
Okay, it wasn’t ugly, but still.
“Yes,” Mr. Lethon said, voice tight, “she gave it to you to take you away from Dora. Don’t you see? You’re just a pawn. I’ve told you the queen and her family are not to be trusted. You’ve seen how devious they are, and yet just a taste of the fame that Dora made possible—if you’d care to remember—and you throw it all away p>
His hand clenched into a fist on the desk. “I’m disappointed, Levina,” he said, his voice low but carrying. “You’ve disappointed me p>