Blood and moonlight

Chapter three: The Lies Between Us

The sky was already turning the color of ash when Ava slipped back through the manor gates.

She moved fast, hood pulled low, cloak dusty from the forest floor. Her heartbeat still hadn’t settled. Not from the run… but from him.

His eyes, those molten gold eyes—they’d burned into her soul. Every step away from that house felt like tearing herself from a place she didn’t realize she belonged. A place she should’ve feared. A place she now craved.

The scent of blood wards and old stone greeted her as she crept into the main hall. Quiet. Empty.

Good.

“Ava.”

She froze. Her father stood at the top of the staircase, arms folded across his chest. His eyes, sharp as ever, met hers. “You’re late.”

“I—” She straightened, composing her face like a mask. “Lost track of time. The herd scattered.”

He descended slowly, gaze narrowing. “Your uncle said you never showed.”

Ava blinked. “He was… busy.”

“With a maid?”

Of course he knew.

Lord Elaris stopped in front of her. “You didn’t wear protection. The sun—”

“I stayed in the shade,” she cut in. “I’m fine.”

He studied her, too silent for too long. “Something’s changed. I can smell it.”

Ava’s throat tightened. “It was just a hunt.”

Lie.

She felt it in her gut like a splinter. But she couldn’t tell him. Not about the house. Not about the man. Not about how she let a stranger’s lips steal every rule from her mind.

“I’m tired,” she muttered, turning away. “I’ll clean up.”

She didn’t look back as she walked toward her room. But she could feel her father’s eyes on her the whole way.

⸻

Far from the manor, Achi watched the fire flicker inside the abandoned house. The embers were dying, but he didn’t move to feed them.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

Ava.

She smelled of wind and blood and forgotten things. She was exactly how the prophecy described: The last daughter. The blade in the dark. The beginning and the undoing.

And yet… she had kissed him like they’d known each other in another life.

He shouldn’t have touched her.

He shouldn’t have followed her at all.

The ancient laws were clear: hybrids must not bond with purebloods. The gods had warned of what might awaken if they did. But when he saw her—her wildness, her hunger, her strength—it felt less like breaking fate and more like fulfilling it.

Still, he knew what came next.

They would come for him. Or worse—come for her.

A soft rustle outside made him tense.

Not animal. Not Ava.

Something else.

He stood, silent as shadow, eyes narrowing. There—just beyond the tree line—moved a figure cloaked in black, too tall and too still to be human.

A godsent. A watcher.

They had found him.

Not yet ready to confront. Just watching.

His jaw tightened. They were warning him.

Ava is not yours.

He didn’t care.

He would break a thousand prophecies if it meant keeping her from the mountain… from exile… from death.

Achi stepped into the dark, letting the fire die behind him.

War was coming.

He could feel it in his bones.

And she—the vampire girl with haunted eyes—was standing at the center of it.