The storm had passed, but the quiet hadn't. Anneliese awoke with a dull ache behind her eyes, her thoughts heavy and tangled—echoes of spells, lies, and crimson eyes weaving through her mind like smoke.
Three days had passed since she had stood before the Conclave, clutching a book she hadn't known existed a day before. She had barely spoken since, hiding herself away in her father's small study—a cramped, book-filled room where dust settled thick and the outside world felt far away.
She had scoured every spine, every page, desperate to find anything on the dormant Book of Spells or what could have triggered its sudden awakening.
Nothing.
And now… she needed more. Needed answers.
Desperate for answers, Ann wrapped herself in her cloak just before dawn and slipped out, deciding to sneak to the town's library before anyone noticed. The streets of Haselburg were hushed, blanketed in curfew silence. Morning light filtered through a soft mist, and yet not a single resident stirred. It was as if the town itself was holding its breath.
She didn't know she was being followed.
Not until she turned down a narrow alley to avoid a patrol and heard a soft pad of footsteps behind her. Her breath caught. She spun around.
A sleek black one, sitting too still. Watching. A black cat blinked back at her.
A sigh escaped her lips. "Get a grip, Ann," she muttered, pressing a hand to her chest.
Outside the library's rear quarter, she rapped her knuckles softly on the wooden door. "Liam, it's me. Anneliese."
A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a startled Liam—young, freckled, and forever smelling of old paper and ink.
"Miss Anneliese?" he whispered urgently. "What are you doing here? There's still a town-wide—"
"It's urgent," she cut in with an apologetic smile. "I need to check something in the old section. Please?"
Liam hesitated for a second, then nodded, stepping aside. She was no stranger here—this was where she had spent countless hours, buried in stories of magic and forgotten things.
She gave him a grateful look and followed him through a back corridor into the library, up creaky stairs and across the quiet main floor.
Dust hung in the air like faint whispers. They reached the old wing through the dusty stairway which had a small wooden door tucked in the corner.
Liam unlocked the door with a brass key. "Do you need help finding something?"
"No," she said gently. "I'll manage. Thank you."
"I'll wait downstairs. Let me know if you need help," Liam offered, bowing.
Ann nodded and stepped into the restricted archives.
The room smelled like parchment, candlewax, and time. Sunlight spilled in through the overhead glass panes, illuminating tall shelves filled with ancient volumes. At the edge of the ceiling, the black cat now sat perched and alert—watching her.
Strange.
She shook the feeling off and moved toward the section on magical relics and witchcraft. Her fingers skimmed the spines, until one book—black cover, strange glyph etched into the leather—caught her eye. Her breath hitched. Reaching up, she tugged it free and turned it over in her hands. An ancient book on the origin of the oldest creature: Witches!
Right as she was about to open it, a voice, low and amused, sliced through the silence behind her.
"What do we have here, Ms. Sneaky?"
Startled, she spun around—heart jolting—and backed straight into a wooden shelf.
Vincenzo stepped into the light, crimson eyes glinting, arms crossed, lips curved in a smirk "You really do have a habit of showing up where you don't belong," he drawled.
Her eyes locked onto crimson ones. Ann's mouth opened, but her thoughts scattered. "What are you doing here? And—how did you even get in?"
He tilted his head like a cat toying with its prey. "Teleportation. One of the perks of being a pure-blooded vampire."
Her eyes narrowed and voice came out sharper than she intended "And you just happened to teleport into a library?"
He leaned casually against a shelf. "Not exactly" and glanced up at the cat. "Oscar has been keeping me updated."
Her gaze followed his. The cat blinked slowly, almost smug.
His eyes flicked to her neck—exposed from her tilted chin—and his fangs appeared, sharp and unmistakable. He could hear her heartbeat. See her fear behind the steel-blue eyes.
Ann tensed but held her ground. Her throat tightened. "You… you've been spying on me?"
"Well," he said, voice turning silkier, "you did lie to the Conclave. Boldly. I thought you deserved some attention."
She tried to steady her voice. "Is lie detection another vampire perk?"
He smirked. "Not a perk. Just experience. Now, I'll ask the questions."
Next moment, the humor drained from his expression "Why were you really in the forest that night?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"And don't even think of lying again," he added darkly, voice dropping into a near-growl. "Unless you want that little heart of yours out of your chest."
Ann froze— She wasn't sure if it was the danger or the way his voice dropped, calm and commanding. Her pulse quickened, part from fear, part from the pull in his voice. It wasn't just a threat. It was a test.
Her mind scrambled—should she tell him? Could she?
But before she could decide Vincenzo took a step closer, his gaze flicked to the book in her hand. The amusement in his eyes cooled, giving way to something unreadable.
It wasn't just suspicion driving him. It was a gut-deep certainty: she was the turning point. The prophecy wrapped in flesh and foolish courage.
She's not just a girl with a book. She's a question the Conclave is too blind to ask.