Blood and Moonfire

The Letter In The Tin

The wax seal on the letter was the colour of dried blood.

Mara turned it over in her hands three times before she found the courage to break it. The wax cracked cleanly, like it had been waiting — like it knew this exact moment was always coming and had simply been patient about it.

Her grandmother's handwriting was inside. Small, deliberate, slightly slanted to the left the way it always had been.

Mara,

If you are reading this then the blood moon has already risen and they have already found you. I am sorry I was not there to explain it myself. I tried to protect you from this for as long as possible. I tried to give you a normal life inside a town that has never been normal.

There are things about our bloodline that I could never say out loud — not in Ashenveil, not anywhere near the border. Walls in this town have ears that belong to both sides.

What you are has no simple name. The wolves will call you a gift. The vampires will call you a weapon. Both of them will be wrong and both of them will be right simultaneously.

Do not trust either side completely. Not yet.

Trust what your blood tells you. It has never lied to anyone in our family — not once in three hundred years.

The two who found you — you already know they are different from the others. That is not an accident.

I chose this town for a reason.

I love you more than this letter can carry.

— Grandmother

Mara read it four times. Then she folded it carefully, pressed it against her chest, and cried quietly in the dark for a long time.