Bloodline of the mongrel vampires

Chapter 3 The witch coven

The witch coven

The night air hung heavy as Leslie stepped through the dark forest path, her crimson robe trailing softly against the ground. She approached the coven circle, a hollowed-out clearing surrounded by ancient trees. Dozens of candles flickered around the stone altar, casting long, dancing shadows. Red-robed witches stood in silence, their faces somber, their eyes glowing faintly beneath the candlelight.

Leslie stepped forward and spoke in a clear voice.

"Elder Mother Miranda will be joining us shortly."

Payton, arms crossed, scoffed. "Tell her she shouldn’t keep us waiting like this. We’re not her servants."

"I said she’ll be here soon," Leslie replied, her tone flat.

Payton raised a brow. "Mind how you speak. I’m your senior in this coven."

Leslie’s voice tightened. "Then maybe act like one."

Before another word could be fired, a commanding voice rang from the shadows.

"This is a sacred gathering, not a quarrel pit. Hold your tongues."

Elder Mother Miranda emerged, her presence silencing the room. Her cloak shimmered like molten blood, and her eyes held centuries of secrets.

"I apologize for the delay," she said, taking her place before the altar. "I know how precious time is to us—especially now. I’ve called you here—"

Alicia, one of the elder witches, cut her off sharply. "Because you failed us. The plan was simple—stop Valeria. If she chose to protect that cursed child, she was to be eliminated."

Leslie clenched her fists. "Valeria is Miranda’s daughter. What kind of mother drives a dagger into her child’s heart just because of a prophecy?"

Alicia’s eyes flashed. "Watch your tone, girl, or you’ll leave this coven in pieces."

Miranda raised a hand. "Enough. Alicia is right, Leslie. You must not speak further. Let me explain."

Alicia scoffed. "Explain what? That you let your daughter carry a monster into this world?"

"You think I didn’t try?" Miranda snapped, her voice cracking with restrained fury. "You think I didn’t weigh the cost?"

She took a breath and turned to the coven.

"Let me remind you who we are. We witches bind our blood with spells. The first cast upon a newborn is the Spell of Death—to protect them from the vampire’s bite. If bitten, we die rather than transforming into one of those monsters."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "This is basic lore. Get to the point."

Miranda nodded. "If a witch conceives with a werewolf, the child inherits venom. Our magic cannot protect against it. The child weakens… and dies before reaching the age of five."

"Then why let Valeria continue the pregnancy?" Alicia demanded.

Miranda’s voice dropped. "Because I was the one who cursed her."

Gasps rippled through the room.

"I cast a love spell on her," Miranda confessed. "She was in love with Marcus, a mongrel vampire, and you all know the danger that comes from the speaking of his name alone. I found out and panicked. I didn’t want her soul tangled with that kind of darkness. So… I manipulated her into being with Nicolas, a werewolf who loved her, but she couldn't reciprocate that love, so I had no choice. I made her see him as Marcus."

Leslie whispered, shocked, "You used magic to trap your daughter in a false reality?"

Miranda’s face twisted with pain. "After it happened, she discovered the truth. She couldn’t face Marcus or herself. She ran. Months later, she returned—pregnant, desperate, and broken. I begged her to end it. But she refused. Said if the child must die, she would die with it."

Payton crossed her arms. "Then Marcus bit her, didn’t he?"

Miranda nodded slowly. "He drained her to the edge of death, hoping to remove the venom. I tried to stop him, but it was too late. She died. But… the child did not. I heard the heartbeat of the child—faint but unyielding—thudding like a distant drum in a storm of silence. It shimmered with hidden magic, each beat a fragile spark of life refusing to fade. In that moment, it wasn’t just a sound—it was a cry for help, a pulse of hope wrapped in mystery."

Murmurs spread.

"In a split second, Valeria stood up," Miranda said, her voice now trembling. "Pale, lifeless… yet breathing. She had turned. Not into a corpse. But into a monster. A vampire.

Alicia’s voice cracked. "Impossible! You cast the Death Spell."

Miranda looked at her coven. "History is shifting. This child… healed her."

Leslie’s eyes widened. "Marcus must’ve known. He believed the child’s blood could bring her back."

"Perhaps," Miranda whispered. "But he wasn’t certain. He gambled with her life."

Payton stepped forward, her voice laced with dread. "This is madness. A witch reborn as a vampire? A child that defies death? It’s a threat. A danger to us all. We should kill it before it grows into something we can’t control."

Miranda’s eyes darkened. "If you lay a finger on Valeria or her child, you sign your own death."

Payton hesitated.

"You don’t understand what you’re dealing with," Miranda warned. "This child carries blood from a mongrel vampire, a witch and a werewolf. A true trybrid and the first of it kind. If you harm it, the mongrels will come for you. They do not forgive. They will destroy your bloodline—piece by piece—until none remain."

Payton’s confidence shattered. She stepped back in fear.

Alicia’s voice dropped low. "Then what now?"

Miranda’s answer was cold and final: "Now… I find my daughter. And prepare for what’s coming. But first we need to seek an audience with an alpha. Only an Alpha can shed light on what their kind truly believes—we must seek an audience before it’s too late. The wolves may already be choosing sides, and if we wait any longer, we risk being left in the dark."

The candles flickered violently as a gust of wind swirled through the coven. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.

The prophecy had begun to unfold—and no one was ready.

*Hidden circle*

The moon had risen higher in the sky by the time the official coven meeting ended. One by one, the witches vanished into the shadows, their red garments disappearing into the trees like flames flickering out.

But not everyone returned home.

In a hidden clearing far from the main coven circle, a smaller fire burned low and quiet. Around it stood a tighter circle—Payton, Alicia, and three other witches draped in darker red cloaks, their faces half-covered by hoods.

Payton folded her arms, her voice low but sharp like a dagger’s edge.

“She’s protecting that thing. That child should’ve been destroyed the day it breathed.”

Alicia nodded beside her, lips thin with frustration.

“Miranda has gone soft. The prophecy means nothing to her anymore. But it still means everything to us.”

One of the other witches, a sly-eyed woman named Marva, leaned in.

“You’re talking about going against the Elder Mother?”

Payton glared.

“We’re talking about saving the bloodline of witches. If that child grows… it could destroy everything we stand for. Magic will be poisoned.”

A younger witch named Hessa looked nervous.

“But Miranda said the child healed Valeria. Doesn’t that mean he/she has power… maybe even balance?”

Alicia cut in quickly.

“Power isn’t the problem. Uncontrolled power is. A creature born from a wolf and a vampire inside a witch? That’s not balance. That’s chaos.”

Marva grinned darkly.

“So what’s the plan?”

Payton looked into the fire, her voice cold.

“We find the child… before Miranda does. And we finish what she was too weak to do.”

“How do you suggest we handle this? We can’t face the child alone—it’s too dangerous. We’re not just up against a person; we’re up against something we don’t fully understand, something that could tear us apart. And let not forget Valeria was dangerous enough as a witch—but now she’s a vampire too. That changes everything. We don’t know the full extent of her power anymore. And if anyone tries to take her child, I doubt she’ll just let it happen. She’s unpredictable… and that should terrify all of us." Hessa said nervously gazing at Payton for a response.

Marva nodded slightly in agreement. She is right Payton, we need to consider all possible outcomes. She said.

A flicker of doubt stirred beneath her calm exterior, like wind rippling through still water.

Payton knew the danger of what they were going up against, but the choice was already sealed in her heart as unshakable as ancient magic. "We must seek out an Alpha brave enough to walk our path—and quietly gather witches who still believe in what we fight for. But we tread on fragile ground. If Miranda senses even a whisper of betrayal, our cause may shatter before it ever begins."

There was a silence around the circle. The fire crackled louder in the hush. Then, one by one, the witches nodded.

“For the coven.”

“For the old ways.”

“For the protection of all magic.”

The firelight danced on their faces as they pressed their palms together in silent agreement. Then the flames were snuffed out with a wave of Payton’s hand—and the clearing returned to darkness.

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