Shadows and Blood

The scent of blood hung thick in the air, cloying and metallic. Anne stood at the edge of the battlefield, her heart hammering against her ribs as she took in the carnage before her. The moon, heavy and full, cast its silver light over bodies—some human, some not—strewn across the scorched earth. The echoes of the battle still rang in her ears, the clash of steel and the guttural growls of creatures who should never have crossed paths.

She barely felt the sting of her own wounds, her body already healing faster than it should. The Dragire inside her pulsed, restless and insatiable. It craved more, demanded more. But Anne forced it down, locking the beast within the cage of her will.

Bela had been right about one thing—she was dangerous.

The realization settled deep in her chest like an iron weight. This wasn't just about survival anymore. This was about something much bigger, something ancient. The war between dragons and vampires had been written in blood long before she ever took her first breath, and now, she was standing at its center.

A rustling in the darkness pulled her attention. Anne's eyes snapped toward the shadows, her senses sharp. Something moved just beyond the treeline, slow and deliberate. She readied herself, shifting her weight onto the balls of her feet.

Then, a figure emerged.

Lucian.

His presence was a stark contrast to the battlefield's brutality. His cloak was tattered, his face streaked with dirt and something darker. But his eyes—those piercing, haunted eyes—found hers instantly, locking onto her as if she were the only thing that existed.

"Anne." His voice was hoarse, raw with something she couldn't place.

She didn't move. She couldn't. Because in that moment, she realized something terrifying—Lucian had seen it. He had seen what she had become.

"You were right," he said after a long pause. "I didn't understand before." He stepped closer, his boots crunching against the blood-soaked ground. "But I do now."

Anne's fists clenched. "You should have stayed away."

Lucian exhaled sharply. "Maybe. But I couldn't. Not after what I saw. Not after what I learned."

Her body tensed. "What are you talking about?"

Lucian hesitated, then reached into his coat. He pulled out a worn leather-bound book, its cover marked with a sigil she didn't recognize. He held it out to her, his expression grave. "This belonged to one of the Elders. It details the true history between vampires and dragons. It talks about... something called the Dragire."

The word sent a shiver down Anne's spine. Her mother had never given her answers. Only warnings. But now, here was Lucian, holding something that might finally unravel the truth.

She took a step forward, hesitating only for a moment before snatching the book from his hands. Flipping through its pages, she scanned the ancient text, the faded ink revealing secrets long buried.

'A child of both bloods shall be born, a weapon forged in the fire of war, bound by neither, yet stronger than both.'

Anne's breath caught in her throat. The words blurred before her eyes as the weight of them settled over her. A weapon. That was all she was meant to be. A means to an end.

Her mother had created her for this. And Bela—she hadn't even known what she had done.

A hollow feeling spread through Anne's chest, colder than anything she had ever felt before.

Lucian watched her carefully. "You're not just caught between this war, Anne. You were meant to end it."

The words sent a violent surge of emotions through her—anger, fear, betrayal. Was this why her mother had kept her hidden? Why the vampires had always feared her? Why the dragons had never accepted her?

The realization threatened to consume her, but she swallowed it down. She couldn't afford to break. Not now.

"What else does it say?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.

Lucian hesitated before answering. "It says that if the Dragire ever fully embraces their nature, they will become something even the gods fear."

Anne's hands trembled.

Lucian reached for her then, his touch tentative but firm. "You're more than what they tried to make you. You always have been."

She wanted to believe him. But as the power inside her stirred, restless and unyielding, she wasn't sure she could.

The battle was far from over. And the worst was yet to come.