The dark light in Lynn's pupils faded to a soft glow as he tightened his grip on the Kiss of Shadow. The dagger's hilt, once icy, now hummed in harmony with his pulse, as if it had become an extension of his own body. Kaelan stood motionless across the chamber, his red eyes reflecting the gem's radiance, waiting for the storm of memories to settle in the young man before him.
Lynn sank onto a crumbling stone bench, the locket still clutched in his free hand. The fragments that had flooded his mind—fire, chants, his father's desperate shout—were no longer chaotic. They had woven into a coherent thread, one that tangled with the vague recollections of his childhood: a woman with silver eyes singing lullabies, the scent of pine and smoke, a sudden scream that had woken him from sleep.
"The Coven of Dusk," Kaelan began, his voice lowering as if the words themselves were dangerous. He moved to a shelf and brushed dust off a cracked ceramic vase, revealing a faint symbol etched into its side—a sun partially eclipsed by a moon. "They've hunted our kind for three centuries. Not just vampires, but anyone who wields the dark essence. They believe only 'pure light' should rule, and that darkness is a sin to be purged."
Lynn looked up, the dagger's tip tapping softly against the stone floor. "My father was their enemy, then."
"He was their greatest threat," Kaelan corrected. "A half-vampire, half-shadow wraith—such a union was thought impossible. It gave him control over both blood and shadow, a power that even the Coven's High Priestess feared. Your mother, Elia, was a shadow weaver of the ancient line. When they married, the Coven saw it as an abomination. They feared their child—you—would inherit both powers, becoming a force they could never destroy."
The locket grew warm in Lynn's palm. He opened it again, staring at the woman in the portrait. Her silver eyes matched the ones in his memories. "They attacked our home."
"On the night of the Blood Moon," Kaelan said, his voice tight with grief. "Your father knew they were coming. He spent weeks preparing the seal—he wove his own shadow essence into your blood, hiding your true power. He took you to the Eternal Dusk himself, leaving you in a place where the Coven's sensors would struggle to detect you, and told those who might find you to never speak of your heritage. Then he sent me here with the Kiss of Shadow, to wait until the seal weakened enough for you to sense it."
"And my parents?" Lynn asked, dreading the answer.
Kaelan's red eyes dimmed. "They stayed behind to hold the Coven off. I saw Elia fall first, impaled by a light spear. Your father… he unleashed his full power. He took down a dozen Coven members before their High Priestess used a relic—the Eclipse Staff—to bind him. I fled before I saw his end, but I heard her shout that he would be burned at the stake, his essence scattered so he could never return."
Silence filled the chamber. Lynn's fingers traced the raven on the locket, and the dark essence in his veins surged, as if mourning. He had spent years believing he was an abandoned orphan, a nobody left to die in the Eternal Dusk's slums. Now he knew he was the son of two warriors, and the heir to a power that had terrified an entire order.
A distant bell rang, echoing through the outpost. Kaelan's head snapped up, his ears twitching. "That's the alarm. The sentries have found something."
Lynn stood, the Kiss of Shadow glowing brighter. He moved to the door, his shadow stretching along the wall and merging with the darkness outside. "The Coven?"
"No," Kaelan said, joining him. He pressed his ear to the door, listening to the shouts from above. "Thralls. But they're not patrolling—they're searching. Someone's here with them. Someone who can sense your essence."
Before Lynn could speak, a crash echoed from the staircase. A thrall stumbled down the steps, its chest pierced by a shaft of glowing light. Behind it stood a figure in white robes, his face hidden by a hood. The figure raised a hand, and a bolt of light shot toward Lynn.
Lynn reacted on instinct. He swung the Kiss of Shadow, and a wave of dark energy erupted from the dagger, meeting the light mid-air. The collision sent a shockwave through the chamber, shattering the remaining vials on the shelves. The hooded figure staggered back, and his hood fell, revealing a face Lynn knew.
"Father Thorne," Lynn snarled. The priest from the Ashen Town church—the one who had tried to capture him after the riot. The one who had spoken of the Coven's "holy mission" to cleanse darkness.
Thorne's eyes widened at the sight of the dagger. "The Kiss of Shadow. So the rumors are true. You are Voss's spawn." He raised his staff, and more light gathered at its tip. "The High Priestess will reward me for bringing your head."
Kaelan stepped beside Lynn, his fangs extending. "You'll have to get through us first, priest."
Lynn gripped the dagger, feeling its power flow into him. The memories of his parents, the rage at their deaths, the weight of his heritage—all of it merged with the dark essence. He smiled, a cold, fierce thing.
"Let him try," he said. "This time, I'm not running."