The following evening, the manor stood silent, yet beneath its grand facade, tension simmered like a pot threatening to boil over. The family had always balanced precariously between two worlds—human and vampire, mortal and eternal. But now, that balance was unraveling faster than any of them cared to admit.
Mikhail and Makayla had spent the day in restless sleep, their immortal bodies confined to the shadows while their father, Gino, continued to live under the constraints of human existence. By the time they emerged, the sky was dark, the moon once again watching over them like an impartial spectator.
Makayla stretched lazily, her muscles humming with renewed energy. "Another night, another game of pretend," she muttered.
Mikhail, who had been waiting for her outside her room, sighed.
