PROLOGUE - THE WHISPER OF PROPHECY
257 Words
The world was not one, but two.
It had always been divided.
Above, the heavens shimmered with gold and ivory halls, where gods reigned over the delicate strings of human emotion. They moved unseen yet ever present, answering prayers, guiding hearts, shaping destinies with a touch. Among them was Selene, goddess of love, radiant as dawn. She was beauty, kindness, warmth itself—the pulse that gave mortals the courage to hope, to reach for one another even in despair. Wherever she walked, flowers bloomed and sorrow turned to longing’s fire.
Below, however, the darkness thrived. A kingdom of blood and eternal night sprawled across hidden lands untouched by sun. Vampires ruled there—immortals cursed with endless hunger, feared by mortals and despised by gods. At their helm stood the Veyrath dynasty, a lineage older than human memory. And at its heart, the one destined to inherit their crimson throne: Damian Veyrath, the Prince of Shadows. His name was spoken in whispers, his power unmatched, his eyes said to hold the cold of a thousand winters.
They should never have met.
They should never have spoken.
Yet destiny is a cruel playwright
For carved into the bones of the world was a prophecy:
“When light and shadow dare to intertwine, the heavens will tremble and the earth will bleed. From their union, destruction shall rise… or eternal salvation.”
Gods ignored it. Vampires mocked it. Mortals feared it.
But the stars remembered.
And one night, under the pale gaze of the moon, the prophecy stirred.
- Writer
