Blood of three, Heart of one

The great hall hums with a nervous energy, but all I hear is the thudding in my chest booming like thunder in my ears. The smell of jasmine is pervasive in the air, and a few candles burn all along the old stone walls giving off licks of sandalwood incense. Flames throw their shadow-dances, tenuous and fleeting as the dear hopes which I cherish in my breast to-night. Music starts playing — slow, sad and a tune that clings to me like a silken ribbon, tugging me into the present. Lorenzo’s hand covers my own, his warmth and solidly steadying me. I take a breath as I glance up and meet his eyes, that little twinkle still shining in those dark depths — the same one that drew me close all those years ago. My heart flaps flimsy and violent, like a flame in the breeze. His smile is quiet but confident, a secret unspoken vow between the two of us. He ushers me onto the gleaming dance floor, every step and sway as though we are whispering- talking in a way only he — we get. The world shrinks down to the two of us, and the sound of the crowd’s whispers recedes into a light drone against the music. I push a stray lock of hair back behind my ear, nestle in against his shoulder and feel his solid strength beneath my cheek. “You look beautiful tonight,” he drawls, his voice low and warm. A tiny laugh breaks free, uninvited & light:. “Only because I’m with you.” We wade with measured deliberation, step matching step and feels as though we are pulled inexorably by the invisible tides of moon above. The chandeliers dazzle with light, casting it like imprisoned stars that twinkle on the silver threads embroidered in my gown — ancient sigils that identify me as daughter to two worlds. Time stretches and warps all around us. The music just takes us and takes us. His hand feels hot and I like the sound of his heart, the regular beat I count beneath my palm. The song winds down and applause ripples through the room but I don’t really hear it. Lorenzo keeps me there for a moment longer, his eyes still staring into mine, memorizing, as though he can engrave this moment on eternity. “Dance with me once more?” His voice is a soft caress. I nod, choking on my breath when he hugs me again. This dance also is softer, deeper — a secret exchanged beneath the stars’ vigilant eyes. The final notes ring out and now it's just your echo, my footsteps, and a flutter of nervous excitement inside me. Tonight — this very night — everything changes. I see an elder moves up, his robes whispering against him like dry leaves. He lifts a delicate crystal glass, and the fiery amber liquor catches the candlelight in its embrace. “My brothers and sisters,” his voice rings out through the silence, solemn and respectful, “we meet here tonight to watch as our Alpha is crowned with her Luna — a bond that will unite our pack in strength and glory.” Hope and fear cling to my chest. I look up at Lorenzo, so tall and stiff with the burden of his legacy casting a shadow over him like a raincloud. The Elder raises his glass once more and shouts, “Alpha Lorenzo! Bring out your mate.” I stiffen, muscles tense all over my body, the little heart in your chest frenzied tapping on its fleshy drum. This is the moment I always dreamed of — a promise kept. “Lorenzo…” I breathe it out, my voice a little shaken, tinged in pure excitement and patience. But he does not answer. I gulp, trying to control the trembling of my hands. “Lorenzo, baby they are talking to you, can you hear me?” I repeat, now louder, panic slithering into my voice. His eyes flicker briefly to me — haunted, distant — then away. He says nothing and his hand slips past mine, coldly bristling against my flesh. I watch him move past me, his shoulders brushing me. I held his arm, “Lorenzo, what are you doing? Where are you going?” I ask my voice a bit shaky. He doesn’t turn, he doesn’t face me. He just gently puts his arms away from my hold. He walks towards where the elders are seated. No. No. It can’t be. I watch in horror as he walked to where Selena seated. His fingers close around Selena’s. A gasp is forced out of me, choked swiftly by the stunned silence. The audience waits in suspense, breath held, as they approach the elders side by side. I am paralyzed, each breath stuck in my throat, a hollow pain filling my chest. The elders wait, their faces grave and expectant beneath flickering torchlight. Silver sigils burst into glowing arcs between Lorenzo and Selena, weaving ancient magic around them. The elders chant, their voices a haunting echo, threading words older than memory into the air. The Stealing of the Bond — the sacred rite that seals fates and binds souls. The invisible threads tighten around them, glowing softly. Selena’s wrist blossoms with a luminous mark — the seal of Luna. And then — his gaze lands on me. Sad. Broken. Just full of this pain that’s so incredibly deep, my soul feels torn to pieces. He cannot come to me. He cannot face me. I cannot bear the heaviness of that silence. I take short, sobbing breaths. I don’t even think. I turn. I run. ⸻ The grand hall fades behind me as I stumble through wide eyes, gasping and hollow. The doors creak open, and I use the time between pressurization cycles to suck in the cold night air as if I’m a drowning woman needing to breathe. Cold, light moonlight flows over the garden. My heart feels like it's shattering. I run along sinuous paths, the smell of mangled jasmine under my feet hardly keeping me down. “Ahhhhhhhhhh” I screamed, I screamed as loudly as I could, hoping that it’ll help me be free. For an instant, I believe that I’m free. That I’ve managed to elude the unbearable pressure of betrayal and broken promises. A bitter laugh bubbles into my throat. I can smell them. He sent them to their death. Idiots. A subtle shift in the air. A rustle of movement behind the dense hedges. Shadows lengthen and deepen. Silent figures move in and out of the shadow, slinking by with an unforgiving speed. I freeze, blood running cold. Masked, armed and moving with lethal grace. I rotate to put myself fully before them, chin up and eyes bright with defiance. I flash them a mocking smile. “So, he sent you,” I say, the contempt in my voice low and viscous. “He was incapable of opening his eyes to see me.” My gaze sweeps over them. “But he sent you … to complete the work.” I move closer, fists clenched in tight balls. “I’d love to see you try.” The initial attacker attacks — a glimmer of silver in the pale moonlight. I dodge, spin away, fire flaring at my fingertips. My magic crackles as I cast a spell — a soul-hurting burst that sends him staggering. The next one comes at me from the side — blade a glistening slice of air. I grab his wrist and twist it hard, listening to the bone snap sickeningly. He falls with a grunt. I am breathing hard, my every nerve alive with adrenaline. The battle is brutal. They come in waves. Blades clash, magic surges. I s***h, block, kick and cast — refusing to stay down. But they are many. One swings a weapon I do not recognize — black obsidian and silver twisted into its shape, runes faintly glowing. It hums with dark power. I feel the cold bite before the blow lands — it’s sharp, cruel, searing through my side. Pain explodes, hot and wild. I stagger, breath hitching. Blood wells beneath my fingers. My legs falter. My breath shudders and stalls. Panic burns through me, along with excruciating pain. I want to scream, to claw, to give a harder fight — everything I have. But my body betrays me. With what remains of my power, the blood of a witch running through me, I cast one last desperate spell. A silver light explodes from my fingers, enshrouding me in a mantle. I vanish from their clutches quicker than a blink of an eye — gone into the night. But the magic is spent. Not far from where they hunted me, I stumble through the shadows, breath ragged and body trembling. My vision blurs. The world narrows. As I feel my life slipping away, I see a figure approaching through the darkness — a woman. My first instincts was to run, she could be part of them. But before I could she said “Calm child, running will make it worse. I’m not here to hurt you.” Trembling, my lips parted and I said in a barely audible tone, “Please…help me…” The figure moves closer, illuminated by moonlight. There is an infinite type of serenity within her eyes, like that of the night sky. And her voice – when she talks - is the soothing balm to my fragmented soul. “My child,” she whispers tenderly, and her hands reach out like stars; “and though your heart is broken, though the world has turned its back on you — I can see you hurting. I have seen you through shadow and flame. You are not lost.” I am gurgling in my own spit already, I can’t speak, can’t ask who she is, my voice is only thread just holding. “I knew he wasn’t good enough for you,” the goddess goes on gently, “but your heart made its choice and your spirit will endure. Awake now, the power within you, the magic you were born to wield. Your fate is greater than this night, greater than sorrow. Her hands lie softly over my heart, and a warmth washes through me — a small kernel of warmth that flickers into life. “Hear this prophecy,” she murmurs, her voice weaving into my soul like a melody: “When blood of three in one is born, Beneath the night of silver thorn, A heart of fire, a soul of night, Shall love a king of ancient might. But crown and fear shall break them wide, And fate shall tear the fated bride. Her shattered soul through time shall weep, Until a century’s shadow-sleep. When moonlight finds her blood again, And wolf remembers love and pain, The hybrid queen shall rise reborn— To heal the world… or be its scorn. If chosen wrong, the kingdoms fall. If chosen right, she saves them all. The king must choose his heart, not throne… Or lose his soul, and die alone.” I wanted to ask her what she meant, I wanted to know who she was but before i could say anything she beat me to it. “Rest now my child, and be born again”. The woman’s glow dims and as it does, so becomes my power.