The Blood Thirsty ✨

CHAPTER SIX — Echoes of the Past

The morning light broke through the tall city windows like shards of gold, but Lina and Nera barely noticed it. Their minds were still tangled in the chaos of the previous night, still buzzing with the thrill and terror of their first trial.

“We can’t ignore this,” Lina said, her voice low, almost reverent. “Something inside me… it’s trying to tell me more. About Zoraver. About us.”

Nera nodded, brushing a lock of dark hair from her face. “I feel it too. It’s like… memories trapped in shadows, waiting for the right moment to wake. And I think last night… we opened the door.”

Jaxon and Dante stood a few steps behind them, silent as always, yet their presence was heavy with unspoken words. Jaxon’s gaze lingered on Lina, sharp and assessing, yet with an undercurrent of something softer, something dangerous and intimate. Dante, meanwhile, had his eyes on Nera, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth whenever she shifted or moved.

“Yesterday was only the beginning,” Jaxon said finally, breaking the tension. “You survived the first test, but surviving isn’t enough. You need to understand who you were… who you are, if you hope to defeat Zoraver.”

“And how do we do that?” Lina asked, glancing at Nera. “Just… remember?”

Jaxon shook his head. “Not just remember. You have to relive it, feel it, embrace it. That’s the only way your powers will awaken fully. The bond between you… it’s more than connection. It’s the anchor that will pull your past selves forward.”

The sisters agreed to begin their memory exploration that afternoon.

The room they entered was dim, circular, with walls that seemed to shimmer faintly in the light, like liquid silver. At the center, a large mirror stretched from floor to ceiling. Its surface rippled as if breathing, inviting them closer.

“This is a reflection of the soul,” Dante explained softly. “It won’t show you what you want to see. Only what you need to remember.”

Lina stepped forward, hand hovering over the glass. The moment her fingers touched its surface, a jolt ran through her entire body. Nera mirrored her, and together they were pulled into a vision that was not a dream, not quite reality.

They were standing in a vast hall, cold stone walls lined with flickering torches. Shadows moved along the edges, and at the far end, a throne of black iron glimmered with an unnatural light. On it sat a figure whose presence chilled the air itself.

Zoraver.

The sisters gasped. In the vision, they were not new faces—they were women of power, their forms elegant and strong. Lina’s hair flowed like molten gold, and Nera’s dark locks fell like a waterfall of night. Their eyes met across the hall, recognition sparking, and memories—fragmented yet vivid—tumbled into place.

They had been guardians once, warriors tasked with protecting something greater than themselves. And Zoraver… Zoraver had destroyed them.

The bond deepens.

“Do you feel it?” Lina whispered, reaching for Nera’s hand. “The memory… it’s ours, together. Always together.”

Nera squeezed her hand, and the energy around them surged. Light and shadow intertwined, dancing across the walls of the hall. The air thickened with power, and for a moment, Lina saw Jaxon and Dante through the edges of the vision, their forms slightly blurred but closer than ever.

Jaxon stepped forward in the vision, kneeling beside Lina. “You’re stronger than you realize,” he said, voice low, almost a whisper. The way his hand hovered near hers sent a shiver through Lina, part fear, part something forbidden.

Dante appeared beside Nera, his dark eyes catching hers. “And you,” he said softly, “you have the heart of a storm. Unpredictable, unstoppable, and… entirely captivating.” Nera felt her pulse quicken, an unfamiliar heat blossoming in her chest.

Even in the memory, even in the chaos of their past lives, the connection was undeniable. Lina and Nera’s bond was unbreakable—but now, the subtle pull toward Jaxon and Dante began to intertwine with it, forming a complicated, electric tension.

A test of power.

The vision shifted abruptly. Zoraver rose from his throne, the shadows twisting around him like serpents. “You cannot run from what you were,” he hissed. “And you cannot hide from what you will become.”

The sisters instinctively moved together, their energy flaring like twin suns. Lina’s hands glowed with golden fire; Nera’s with dark violet shadow. Together, they formed a circle of power, pushing Zoraver’s darkness back for the first time.

“Stronger… yet still incomplete,” Jaxon murmured from the edge of the vision. His gaze locked on Lina, lingering a fraction too long, filled with curiosity and something more dangerous.

Dante’s voice was equally intense, aimed at Nera. “You have the ability to command the storm. Let it guide you, not control you.” His words sent a thrill through her, and for a moment, Nera wondered if the storm he spoke of was more than just power.

Memories of love and loss.

As the battle in the vision raged, flashes of their past lives emerged—memories of laughter, whispered promises, and fleeting glances that had once been stolen in quiet moments. Lina remembered Nera’s hand brushing hers in the moonlit corridors of a castle long gone. Nera remembered Lina’s eyes glowing in triumph after a victory against Zoraver’s minions.

And then, glimpses of Jaxon and Dante appeared—shadows of those who had fought beside them, their hands just barely touching, their presence a tether to the world they had lost. It was confusing, overwhelming, and intoxicating all at once.

When the vision ended, the sisters were left trembling, breathless, hearts racing not just from power, but from the stirrings of something they had never expected.

Reality returns—but the tension remains.

Jaxon’s hand brushed against Lina’s arm as she stepped away from the mirror. “You did well,” he said softly. There was a pause, a look in his eyes that lingered longer than necessary, before he stepped back.

Dante approached Nera, voice gentle but filled with an intensity that made her heart thrum. “You’re awakening. And the world will never be the same.”

Nera’s cheeks warmed. “I… I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“You will be,” Dante said. “And we’ll be here, every step of the way. But know this—Zoraver will not wait. And neither should you.”

The day faded, but the echoes lingered.

That night, Lina and Nera sat side by side in the quiet of their shared space, hands entwined. Their thoughts were tangled—memories, fears, and the undeniable pull toward the two men who had become their guides and protectors.

“We’re… changing,” Lina said finally. “Not just in power, but… in everything. And I don’t know if I like how Jaxon looks at me. Or Dante at you.”

Nera laughed softly, though it was nervous. “I know. It’s confusing. But maybe… it’s part of all of this. Part of what we were meant to feel, part of what we were meant to experience.”

Their bond strengthened not just by shared history, but by the first whisper of attraction and trust toward Jaxon and Dante, threading itself delicately into the larger tapestry of power and destiny.

Somewhere, in the shadows beyond the city, Zoraver’s laughter echoed faintly, a reminder that the trials were far from over. But for the first time, Lina and Nera felt the stirrings of hope—and a dangerous, intoxicating thrill.