Sophia's sleep that night was anything but peaceful. Whispers curled in the air like tendrils of smoke, calling to her from beneath the earth and through the roots of the trees. She dreamt of fire, of wings tearing through skin, of voices chanting her name in languages she didn't understand. When she woke, her body was damp with sweat, her heart pounding like a war drum.
Lucian was already awake, crouched near the outer edge of the camp. His eyes were fixed on the distant silhouette of the vampire capital. It glowed faintly under the bleeding sky, a city carved from black stone and veined with red magic.
Sophia stepped beside him quietly. "You didn't sleep."
"I don't sleep much," he said, voice low. "Not when I'm this close to home."
She followed his gaze. "You were born there?"
"Yes." He looked down at her. "It's beautiful, but dangerous. My father ruled it with fear. My mother… with grace. When she died, I was too young to take the throne. The court split into factions. I left. Trained. Fought. Now I return not just as prince, but as Alpha. As the strongest. And I'm bringing you."
Sophia hesitated. "Will they accept me?"
"No," he answered honestly. "But they will learn to kneel."
As the camp stirred to life, the scent of smoked herbs and iron drifted through the air. Selene handed Sophia a velvet cloak, one lined with protective enchantments. Her wings ached—growing more defined by the hour—but she concealed them beneath the cloak as instructed.
"Today," Selene said, "we walk into a nest of power and poison. Speak little. Watch everything."
Sophia nodded.
By midday, the group reached the final portal leading into the capital walls. It was guarded by ancient vampire sentries, their skin etched with blood-ink runes, their eyes devoid of warmth. At the sight of Lucian, they bowed low—but their stares lingered on Sophia.
"She smells… different," one murmured.
Lucian growled. "She is your future queen. Bow your head or lose it."
They obeyed.
The city beyond the portal was breathtaking. Gothic towers stretched high into the clouds, bridges of crystal and bone arched over blood-fed rivers, and floating lanterns cast an eternal twilight over the kingdom. People gathered in the streets, their faces pale, their attire regal, their whispers rising as they saw Lucian return—with a radiant fae by his side.
Inside the obsidian palace, the court assembled. Thrones carved from shadow loomed on a dais, where the High Council sat waiting. Among them, a woman rose—tall, elegant, with eyes as red as fresh blood.
"Welcome home, Prince Lucian," she said coolly. "Or should I say… Alpha?"
Lucian gave a tight nod. "High Priestess Miravelle."
Her gaze flicked to Sophia. "And who is this creature that dares walk these halls with you?"
Sophia stepped forward, voice steady. "I am Sophia, heir of the fae goddess Elenara. Daughter of Queen Emily. And I'm not walking with him—I'm standing beside him."
The court rippled with gasps. Some recoiled. Others narrowed their eyes.
Miravelle's smile did not reach her eyes. "How bold."
Lucian's hand found Sophia's lower back in silent support. "She speaks the truth. Her wings will soon bloom. Her power already rivals any of yours."
A warlock near the throne stood, his tone mocking. "So the prince brings home a glowing pet and expects us to bow?"
Before Lucian could move, the floor beneath the warlock cracked. Vines—dark, twisted, and veined with starlight—exploded upward and dragged the man to his knees. Sophia's eyes blazed gold, her aura flaring.
"I'm no pet," she said coldly. "And this kingdom will learn that very soon."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Selene stepped forward with a smirk. "Well then. Shall we discuss where she'll sit? Or do we still pretend she hasn't already earned her throne?"
Lucian smiled faintly. Proud. Dangerous.
The court had seen a glimpse of their queen's wrath.