The Echoes of Blood

Anne's breaths came quick and shallow, her mind spinning with the vampire's final words. You belong to the night, Dragire. The phrase burrowed into her skull, leaving a weight on her chest that she couldn't shake.

Adam was staring at her, his expression unreadable. He had always been steady, unwavering in his belief that she was more than whatever fate had dictated for her. But even he had seen what just happened—how close she had come to acknowledging the truth she had been denying all this time.

"Are you alright?" he asked finally, his voice quieter than usual.

Anne forced herself to nod, though her stomach twisted with uncertainty. "I'm fine."

It wasn't a lie. Not completely. She wasn't crumbling—not yet—but she was also not the same person she had been moments ago. Something inside her had shifted, subtle but undeniable. The cold touch of the vampire still lingered on her wrist, as if the blood beneath her skin remembered him.

Adam didn't look convinced, but he didn't press. Instead, he glanced toward the horizon, where the sky had begun its slow transition from night to dawn. "We should go. The others will be worried."

Anne nodded, but before they could move, a sudden sharp pain shot through her skull. She gasped, clutching the sides of her head. Images flashed before her eyes—disjointed, violent, like echoes of a forgotten past. She saw fire. Blood. Fangs sinking into flesh. A war waged beneath a crimson sky. And then, a pair of glowing, inhuman eyes staring straight into her soul.

"Anne!" Adam's voice snapped her back, his hands gripping her shoulders.

She blinked rapidly, sucking in a breath as the vision faded. Her knees nearly gave out, but Adam held her firm.

"What happened?" he demanded, his voice edged with concern.

"I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head. "It was like—like a memory. Or something close to one."

Adam's grip tightened. "You think it was them? The vampires?"

Anne hesitated. "I think it was me."

She looked down at her hands. They weren't shaking, but she could still feel the phantom sensations from the vision—the burning heat, the taste of something coppery on her tongue. Her body remembered something her mind had long forgotten.

Adam exhaled sharply. "This is bad."

"No," Anne said, straightening, forcing her breathing to steady. "This is necessary."

He frowned. "Anne—"

"They were right about one thing," she interrupted, looking him dead in the eyes. "I can't hide from what I am anymore. I need to understand it."

Adam looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "And if understanding it makes you lose yourself?"

Anne's heart clenched. That was the real fear, wasn't it? The reason she had been running from the truth for so long. But now, running wasn't an option. She was at war with herself, whether she wanted to be or not. And wars had casualties.

"I won't lose myself," she promised, though she wasn't sure if she was telling the truth. "But I need to do this."

Adam stared at her for a long moment before sighing. "Then I'm coming with you."

Anne allowed herself a small smile. "I was hoping you'd say that."

By the time they reached the ruins of the old temple, the first light of dawn was beginning to spill over the horizon. The place had long been abandoned, its stone walls worn down by time and weather, but Anne could feel something thrumming beneath the surface. Power. Old, quiet, but waiting.

"This place," Adam murmured, eyes scanning their surroundings. "It feels…"

"Alive," Anne finished for him. "Like it's watching us."

She stepped forward, placing her hand against one of the worn stone pillars. A strange warmth pulsed beneath her palm, like something inside recognized her. Accepted her.

And then—

A whisper. Not a sound, but a sensation, curling at the edges of her mind.

Anne…

She sucked in a breath, but before she could react, the stone beneath her fingers cracked. Energy surged through her veins, searing hot, and the world spun violently. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer standing in the temple.

She was somewhere else. Somewhere ancient.

The sky above was a deep, unnatural red, and the ground beneath her feet felt unstable, like it was shifting, breathing. Around her, figures moved through the shadows—dragons and vampires, locked in battle, their roars and screams filling the air.

Anne's chest tightened. She had seen this before. In her visions. In the memories buried deep inside her blood.

"Look at them," a voice said behind her. "Fools, all of them."

She turned sharply, her breath catching at the sight of the man standing before her. His features were sharp, regal, but his eyes… they were the same glowing ones she had seen in her vision.

He smiled. "You've come far, Dragire."

Anne's blood turned to ice. "Who are you?"

The man tilted his head, as if amused. "You already know."

A chill ran down her spine. She did know. Even if she couldn't explain it, even if the memory was just out of reach, her soul recognized him.

"You are part of something greater than you realize," he continued, stepping closer. "You are the bridge between two worlds. The key to ending an eternal war."

Anne's throat tightened. "Why am I seeing this?"

"Because it is time," he said simply. "Time for you to remember."

The ground trembled beneath them, and suddenly, pain shot through Anne's body. She gasped, dropping to her knees as something inside her pulsed—something awakening.

The man knelt beside her, his voice almost gentle. "Don't fight it."

But Anne did fight. She fought with every ounce of willpower she had. Because she knew that if she gave in now, there would be no going back.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the vision shattered. Anne gasped, her eyes snapping open to find herself back in the ruins, Adam gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Anne!" he shouted, his face pale. "What the hell just happened?"

Anne's body was trembling, her mind still reeling from what she had seen. From what she had felt.

She swallowed hard. "I think… I just met my ancestor."