The light cut a sharp path through the dusty hallway. Sofia bit the inside of her lip, her fingers wet with sweat as she pushed a hairpin deep into the lock. For twenty-three years, that lock had stayed closed, a strange mystery in a home where everything else was open. Tonight, a sudden neighborhood blackout and a strong feeling inside her made her break her patience. With a sharp click, the lock gave way.
Sofia let out a breath and lifted the wooden lid. The light showed a bundle of old letters tied with a black ribbon, a heavy iron ring with strange marks carved into it, and a photograph at the very bottom. She reached out, touched the shiny paper, and pulled it out.
Her breath caught in her throat.
In the picture, her mother stood next to a tall man with sharp, silver eyes. In her arms, her mother held a baby wrapped in a familiar blue and gold blanket—the exact same blanket currently folded at the foot of Sofia’s bed.
"What is this?" Sofia whispered, her voice shaking in the quiet room. Her entire life in New York City felt like a lie. Twenty-three years of safety, gone. "Mom? Who is this man? Why do I have his blanket?"
The bedroom door creaked open.
Sofia spun around. Her mother stood in the doorway, her face completely pale.
For a terrifying second, neither of them moved. Her mother didn't deny it. Instead, her eyes widened with fear as she looked from the open box to Sofia's face. At that exact moment, the simple silver necklace around Sofia's neck grew strangely warm against her skin.
"You found it," her mother breathed, her voice shaking. She rushed forward, slammed the wooden box shut with a loud thud, and grabbed Sofia’s shoulders with shaking hands. "Listen to me, Sofia. He found us. He’s here. And whatever happens, never take off that necklace."
Sofia opened her mouth to ask questions, but the words stopped.
The lights didn't come back on. Instead, the heavy front door of the apartment smashed inward with a loud crash that shook the floor. Deep, angry growls vibrated through the walls, followed by heavy footsteps walking down the hall.
They stopped right outside the doorway.
Shadows stretched across the floor as the strangers stepped into the light. Too big. Too sharp. Their eyes shone with a hungry, unnatural light.
Right behind them, the darkness in the hallway seemed to move forward into a terrifying, tall shape—a man with jet-black hair and eyes that burned like silver coals, staring straight at her.
"I have been searching for you for years," Damon said, his eyes narrowing as he took a slow step into the room. "I was beginning to think your mother was better at hiding than she actually was."
Sofia scrambled back, her back hitting the cold wall of the closet. "Who are you? Get out of my house, or I'm calling the police!"
A cold smile touched his mouth. "The police won't help you here, little human."
He closed the distance fast, trapping her against the wall before she could blink. Up close, he felt burning hot and wild, making the hair on her arms stand up. He lowered his head to smell her skin.
His silver eyes darkened, locking onto the silver necklace at her throat. A low growl rumbled in his chest.
"You smell like earth and lies," Damon whispered, his fingers curling around her chin, forcing her to look at him. "And you're coming home with me."
"No, I won't," Sofia choked out, panic rising in her chest. She looked toward the doorway. "Mom! Why aren't you saying anything? Tell them to get out!"
Her mother stood frozen in the dim light, tears running down her pale face. "I am sorry, Sofia," her voice broke. "I tried to protect you."
"What do you mean? No!"
Before Sofia could run past him, Damon’s hand shot out and caught her arm in an iron grip. He didn't hurt her, but he gave her no room to move, pulling her hard against his chest as the guards moved in.
Sofia fought back, kicking and screaming her mother's name as they dragged her out the front door and into the cold New York night.