The gentle morning calm didn't last long.
By the time breakfast ended, the house had returned to its usual rhythm — maids whispering in the hallways, the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen, and the low hum of a day beginning again.
But inside Nattalie's chest, unease still lingered like smoke that refused to fade.
Vincent noticed.
Of course he did.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her as she sat by the window, knees drawn to her chest. The light bathed her hair in gold, but her eyes were far away — somewhere between fear and determination.
"Still thinking about it?" he asked gently.
Nattalie nodded without turning. "I can't stop. Every time I close my eyes, I feel it. That… shift. Like something inside me is waiting to break out again."
Vincent sighed softly and walked closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Then we should stop waiting for it to happen. Let's do something before it does."
Her gaze lifted to him, uncertain. "You mean—"
"Yes," he said simply. "We'll go to see Aunt Li."
The name alone sent a faint shiver through the room.
Aunt Li — their father's half-sister — was known in whispers rather than words. She lived far from the city, in a quiet, forgotten village by the northern hills. People said she could see things. Know things. Things that were never meant to be known.
It was Aunt Li who first warned their father about the bloodline.
And Aunt Li who had vanished from family gatherings ever since.
Nattalie swallowed hard. "Do you really think she'll help us?"
Vincent gave a small, reassuring smile. "If anyone can, it's her. Besides…"
He squeezed her shoulder gently. "You won't be alone."
That single sentence — you won't be alone — was enough.
By noon, Vincent had already packed a small bag with essentials.
The drive would take hours, and their father was still away handling business overseas. Norte, their mother, was resting upstairs — unaware of what her children were planning.
Before leaving, Nattalie paused at the front door. Her hand lingered on the handle, heart racing. "Do you think… she'll tell me how to stop this?"
Vincent adjusted the strap of his bag, glancing at her with that same calm that always steadied her nerves. "She'll tell us what we need to know. Whether we like it or not."
The car engine roared to life.
As they drove away, the city's noise faded behind them, replaced by the whisper of wind through open fields and the distant song of cicadas.
Hours passed. The sky deepened into amber, the sun sinking lower behind the hills. The road narrowed, flanked by trees that grew thicker, darker, older. It felt as if they were being swallowed by the forest itself.
Finally, they reached it — a small, wooden house half-covered in ivy, hidden at the edge of a misty river.
The air was colder here.
Nattalie stepped out of the car, her breath catching at the sight.
Everything felt still… too still.
Vincent shut the car door quietly and took a slow step forward. "Stay close," he murmured.
The door to the house creaked open — before either of them could knock.
And there, standing in the dim light of the doorway, was Aunt Li.
Her long gray hair framed a face untouched by time, her dark eyes glinting like water under moonlight.
"I was expecting you," she said softly.
Vincent froze.
Nattalie's heart skipped a beat.
"How… how did you know we were coming?" she whispered.
Aunt Li's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
"My dear child," she murmured. "The curse always whispers before it knocks."
***