The last bloodline

Asha knew something was wrong the moment the city went quiet. Elaris was never quiet. Even at night, there was always something. Someone shouting across the street. Someone laughing too loudly. Drunk men singing like they owned the world. The usual noise of people who believed tomorrow was promised. But tonight… Nothing. Just her footsteps. And the feeling crawling up her spine that she was not alone. She stopped walking. The lantern beside her flickered once. Twice. Then steadied. Asha stared at it like it had personally threatened her. "Don’t do that,” she muttered. Her own voice sounded too loud in the empty street. She tightened her grip on the small paper bag in her hand and kept moving, faster now. The bread inside was still warm, but her fingers were cold. It didn’t make sense. She had taken this road a hundred times. So why did it feel like she was walking through someone else’s city? She turned a corner. Still empty. Another corner. Still empty. Asha let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. “Okay. Maybe I’m just being stupid.” Then she heard it. A second set of footsteps. Not far behind. Asha froze. Her mouth went dry. She told herself not to look back. Looking back was what girls did in stories right before something grabbed them. But she wasn’t in a story. Right? The footsteps stopped when she stopped. That was the part that made her heart drop. Slowly, she pulled her sleeve back, not even sure why. The mark on her wrist was there. The same mark she’d had since she was a child. Except now… It was glowing. Faintly. Like an ember under skin. Asha stared at it. “What the hell…” A sound behind her. A breath. Too close. Asha spun around. Three men stood in the street like they had been placed there. Hooded. Silent. Waiting. One of them tilted his head. “Found her.” Asha’s blood turned to ice. Her body moved before her brain did. She turned and ran. The bread bag slipped from her fingers and hit the ground, forgotten. Her boots slapped against stone as she sprinted down the narrow street, cloak flying behind her. She heard them follow. Not rushing. Not panicking. Just walking fast, like they already knew she wouldn’t get far. Panic rose in her chest. “Why are you following me?” she shouted, even though she knew that was stupid. They didn’t answer. The city felt wrong. The shadows felt deeper. The lantern light didn’t comfort her anymore. She turned into an alley, hoping to lose them. Bad idea. The alley was narrow, boxed in by tall walls. Her breath came sharp. She reached the end and stopped. Dead end. Her stomach dropped. “Of course,” she whispered. Footsteps approached. Slow. Calm. Three figures stepped into the alley entrance, blocking the only way out. Asha backed up until her shoulders hit the cold stone wall. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst. One of the men spoke again, voice almost bored. “Do not scream.” Asha laughed, breathless and shaking. “Or what?” The man tilted his head. “You will make it worse for yourself.” “What do you want?” Silence. Then, quietly… “The girl with the mark.” Asha’s eyes flicked to her wrist without meaning to. The glow was stronger now. The men noticed. The air shifted. Something about them changed, like hunters smelling blood. Asha swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man stepped forward. “You do not have to know. You only have to come.” Asha’s voice cracked. “Come where?” No answer. Just another step closer. Her hands trembled. Her mind raced. Think. Think. She looked around desperately. Brick walls. No windows. No escape. Then… A sound. Soft. Like someone landing on stone. The men froze. Asha blinked. A figure stood between her and them. A man. Tall. Still. Barefoot, like he hadn’t bothered with something as normal as shoes. Dark hair fell messily over his forehead. He didn’t look at Asha at first. He looked at them. And the air in the alley changed completely. One of the hunters stiffened. “You.” The stranger’s voice was calm. “Leave.” The hunter let out a humourless sound. “This does not concern you.” The stranger finally turned his head slightly. His eyes were sharp, dark, unreadable. “It concerns me.” Asha stared. Something about him made her forget how to breathe. Not because he was trying to be impressive. He just was. The hunter stepped forward. “You cannot interfere. The Church has ordered her taken.” The stranger’s jaw tightened. “The Church does not own her.” Asha’s stomach twisted. Own her? What was happening? The hunter’s voice turned cold. “She carries forbidden blood.” Forbidden blood. Asha’s breath caught. The stranger didn’t move. But something invisible seemed to press against the alley walls. The lantern above flickered violently. Asha felt it. The air thickened, heavy with something she couldn’t name. The stranger spoke again. “Step away from her.” The hunter’s hand moved to his belt. Steel flashed. Asha gasped. The stranger moved. So fast Asha barely saw it. One second he was standing still. The next, he was right in front of the hunter, twisting the blade out of his grip like it was nothing. The hunter stumbled back. The other two lunged. The stranger didn’t panic. He moved with a quiet, terrifying control. Asha pressed herself against the wall, wide eyed. This wasn’t a fight. It was a lesson. One hunter hit the ground hard. The second barely managed to raise his weapon before it was knocked away. The third hesitated. The stranger looked at him. Just looked. And the hunter stepped back. Fear, clear even beneath the hood. “This is not over,” the hunter hissed. The stranger’s voice was low. “It will be if you leave.” The hunters retreated, disappearing into the darkness like shadows being pulled away. Silence fell. Asha realised she was shaking. The stranger turned toward…