A wicked smile tugged at the corner of Ezekiel's lips. It was as if his deepest desire was finally within reach. For a moment, the shadows in the grand chamber seemed to lean in closer, as though even they were intrigued by what was about to unfold. The torches along the stone walls flickered, casting dancing light over his sharp features. His eyes gleamed with dangerous anticipation.
"Explain better," he demanded from the prophetess.
The woman stood tall despite the weight of many stares upon her. Her long, bone-beaded cloak rustled slightly as she stepped forward. She bowed her head with reverence before speaking.
"Milord, it's simple. Once the creature drinks her blood he/she will be the most powerful supernatural being," she explained.
The room went still, as if the air itself was holding its breath. Even those who already knew pieces of the prophecy found themselves hanging on her every word. Power was always a tempting prize, but this—this was beyond power. This was supremacy.
"Then what if someone drinks her blood and becomes powerful? Can another creature drink her blood and still get that power?" Shane asked.
He leaned forward, frowning, his fingers drumming rhythmically against the armrest of his seat. The question wasn't just curiosity—it was strategy.
"Yes but not as the first person," she answered.
A few murmurs rippled through the circle. The prophetess's words struck hard: only the first to act would gain the full advantage.
"Hmm fascinating! The good thing here is that Luna is finally going to die," Maximus said with glee. He, like the others, hated Luna with a passion.
His eyes sparkled with cruel delight. No one questioned his feelings—they all shared the same sentiment, though few voiced it so plainly.
"I agree," she nodded slightly.
There was no pity in her tone. No hesitation. Only a cold acceptance of the fate that awaited Luna.
"You guys all heard," King Ragna said. "Ezekiel, you need it. To kill her. Look for a good opportunity," the king said.
His voice echoed with authority, final and unquestionable. The weight of his words settled heavily in the room, commanding attention.
"Yes your majesty," Zeke replied casually.
Despite the tension, Ezekiel's reply was calm—chillingly so. As if the thought of ending Luna was no more bothersome than a minor task.
"It will be good if Luna doesn't find out about this situation.That's why it will be easy to hunt her down," Maximus said, his voice firm and sure, cutting through the silence like a blade.
"I can't do that. It won't be fair. I need to inform the one destined to die also," the prophetess said, her eyes distant, filled with the weight of unseen knowledge. Her voice, though calm, carried a note of sorrow—as if she already mourned what was to come.
"Where will she run to?" Ezekiel replied to Maximus, a mocking smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His tone was confident, but his fingers drummed nervously on the arm of his chair, betraying the flicker of anticipation burning inside him.
"If you say so…" With that, Maximus stood up to leave, brushing invisible dust from his cloak. His movement was slow but deliberate, like a man resigned to a path he didn't choose. "Am sure that there is no other thing, so I'll get going," he added, eyes sweeping the room one final time as if seeking confirmation that nothing else needed saying.
"There is one more thing, my prince," the prophetess said suddenly, and everyone's attention snapped back to her. Her words dropped like a stone in still water, rippling through the tension-charged air.
"If someone drinks her blood before Ezekiel attempts to kill her, the prophecy will change," she informed, her voice dropping into something darker—mysterious and heavy with implication.
"To what?" Ezekiel asked, frustrated. His jaw tightened, and the grip on his armrest grew tenser. He now eagerly wanted that power—hungered for it. The idea that someone else could claim it before him ignited a spark of desperation behind his stormy gaze.
"That, I don't know yet," she said simply, a touch of regret shadowing her tone. "I'll be on my way to Luna's mansion." And with that, the vampire prophetess stood up, her long cloak sweeping behind her like a phantom.
"I too want peace. It's all I want—for all this fighting to stop," she said softly, her words hanging in the room like a fragile promise. And with that, she used her vampiric speed and vanished from the room, leaving only a stirring of air behind her.
*******
Teresa returned to the mansion, her footsteps light but weary. The air outside had been cool, but now, stepping into the mansion, it felt heavier—like something unseen loomed. She paused when she saw Luna sitting alone in the living room. The boss had her head bowed, hair falling across her face, completely lost in thought.
"Are you okay, Boss?" Teresa called gently, her voice filled with concern, bringing Luna back to reality in an instant.
"I am fine. Is the banquet over?" she asked, lifting her head. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes looked clouded, as if her mind were still far away. Teresa just gave a small nod, unsure of what else to say.
"Boss…" Teresa hesitated. A question had been lingering in her mind for a while now, dancing just on the edge of her courage. Maybe… maybe since Luna had shown mercy before—shown that she could care for humans—maybe she could forgive Evan too.
That was when Luna remembered Evan from the book. A flicker of realization passed across her face. 'Is she in the dungeon?' she asked herself inwardly, recalling the dark, disturbing scenes she'd read.
"Maybe. Let's go to her immediately," she said without pause, rising to her feet. Teresa felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders—one she hadn't realized she was carrying until now.
"Thank you, Boss," Teresa said earnestly, voice laced with relief, but Luna didn't respond. Her focus was locked now, eyes sharp, mind racing.
They both headed to the bottom floor of the mansion, their footsteps echoing faintly in the silence. At the end of the hallway stood a grand double door, towering and intimidating, forged entirely from pure gold. The sheer weight of it—the sight—made even Luna hesitate. She swallowed hard, something churning in her stomach.
Together, they pushed the heavy doors open. The hinges groaned as they moved, letting out a long crackling sound that echoed into the unknown space beyond. A chill ran through Luna as the noise stirred something inside her.
Teresa stepped in first. The place was completely dark, like the very absence of life. She moved slowly, cautiously. The silence was unsettling.
As Luna stepped into the room, thin lines of fire flared from the corners, snaking outward like glowing veins. The flames lit the floor in crisscrossing lines, casting an eerie glow. She gasped inwardly, both awed and unnerved.
"Come on, let's go," she said, gently placing her hand on Teresa's shoulder. Her touch was soft, a silent message that said, I want this. I'm ready.
They moved further in and came upon a massive hole in the ground—black, silent, and impossibly deep. Luna stopped. Her throat tightened. She swallowed again.
Without thinking, she leapt in.
She landed with a thud, catching herself with one hand braced against the floor like a superhero. The ground beneath her was cold and damp. Shadows clung to the walls like living things.
Teresa followed without hesitation, landing behind her.
"Let me light up the—" Teresa began, pulling a small lighter from her pocket. She walked to the large candleholder in the corner and, with a flick, set the wicks aflame. One by one, candles lit up, casting a warm but haunting glow across the stone walls.
This time, real fear gripped Luna. Her breath caught in her throat. What she saw next made her stomach twist. Goosebumps prickled her skin, and her heart began to pound with an intensity she hadn't expected.
'Evan.'
She was bound in black chains, wrists stretched, head slumped. Her body was thin and lifeless. Her eyes—those once-kind eyes—were now hollow, distant. She didn't look human anymore.
"Good Lord… Luna was indeed wicked," Luna muttered under her breath, barely recognizing the reflection of herself in this crime.
"Evan!" she blurted out, voice cracking with horror and guilt.
---
The prophetess had already arrived. The guards, standing tall and alert, recognized her immediately and welcomed her in with silent bows, fully aware of who she was and the weight she carried.
"Welcome," Emma came and saw the prophetess in the sitting room.
"Emma? I need to see Luna," she said without wasting time. She didn't like staying in Luna's territory for long, as the other Luna was bloody wicked.
"Ok prophetess." And just as she was about to leave, she saw Luna coming with Teresa and EVAN.
Evan looked dirty and lifeless, and some maids escorted her to the bathroom to clean up.
"What made you change your mind to bring your friend out of that place?" the prophetess asked, completely taken aback.
"She is my friend, so I need to bring her out someday," Luna replied. As soon as she saw this vampire, she knew that this was the prophetess, and she remembered in the novel that she was here to tell Luna about the prophecy—which Luna already knew.
"You'll die. The prophecy is clear, a supernatural being will end you," she said, and Luna held her tears in. She already knew this, but hearing it still hurt.
"Your blood is a curse and if any supernatural being drinks it he or she will become the supreme of all beings," and with that, the prophetess stood up and left.