Lukyan hadn't left Larissa's side since the mirror incident.
She didn't tell the children what happened. They were too young to understand, too innocent to be dragged into a legacy soaked in blood and secrets. But they noticed. Roman had crawled into her lap that morning without a word, simply resting his head on her chest.
Lukyan watched silently from the doorframe, jaw tight.
He didn't speak until the kids were off at their lessons.
"There's a woman I want you to meet," he said, his tone unreadable.
"Who?"
"She was my father's most trusted researcher in the occult division. I had her tracked down after my father died. She's been in hiding ever since."
Larissa blinked. "Occult division?"
Lukyan gave a bitter smile. "You didn't think the Volkovs only dealt in medicine, did you?"
They traveled in silence, a black SUV cutting through the snow-covered mountain roads. Larissa stared out the window as they climbed higher, the forest growing thicker, the cold sharper.
"I still don't understand," she said softly. "Why would your father have a division for the occult?"
"Because he didn't trust what he couldn't control. And he believed in bloodline magic."
Larissa turned to him. "Like mine?"
Lukyan nodded. "And his own. My family line carries dormant psychic threads—clairvoyance, sensitivity to energy. But yours… yours was active. Your mother was considered a threat by both our families."
She swallowed. "So what does that make me?"
He didn't answer.
The cabin was old, hidden behind thick pine and stone. An old woman answered the door—tall, stern, with milky eyes that didn't quite seem blind.
"You brought her," she said to Lukyan, ignoring Larissa completely.
Larissa bristled. "Excuse me—"
But the woman held up a hand. "Come inside. Before the forest hears you."
Inside, the air smelled of dried herbs and old ash. There were symbols carved into the walls, things that made Larissa's skin crawl.
The woman turned to face her. "You don't know what you are, do you, girl?"
"No," Larissa replied tightly. "And I'm tired of everyone acting like I should."
The woman's pale lips curled. "Then listen."
"You are not just the daughter of a traitor," the woman said. "You are a vessel."
Larissa stiffened. "A vessel?"
"Your mother was a Keeper—someone entrusted with the binding spells used to trap wandering spirits and entities. She was the last of her line. When she died, her magic passed to the next blood heir."
Larissa's heart pounded. "But I never trained. I've never—"
The woman pointed to her chest. "The binding is already inside you. You just don't know how to control it. That is why the mirror shows you what it does. Why the pendant glows. Why your children are… waking up."
Larissa stepped back. "What are you talking about?"
The woman looked at Lukyan.
"Tell her."
He hesitated.
"Roman," he said finally, "has started drawing things. Things he's never seen. And last night, Alina stood at the window and said a name neither of us have ever taught her."
The woman stepped closer. "Your children are waking, just like you. The line continues. The storm follows it."
They returned to the estate under a heavy silence. Larissa sat in the study that evening, staring at the fire, her hands cold despite the warmth.
Lukyan brought her tea. "You haven't said a word."
"What do you want me to say?" she whispered. "That I'm fine? That I'm not completely terrified of what I might become?"
He knelt beside her chair. "You're not alone, Larissa. I didn't marry you just for a contract. I didn't stay just for the children."
She turned her face away.
"I stayed," he said quietly, "because you're the only person I've ever felt like myself with. And because when I look at you, I see a future that isn't soaked in my father's sins."
Larissa's throat tightened.
She turned back to him slowly, meeting his gaze. "Then promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"If I lose control… if the darkness takes over…"
He reached up, brushing her cheek with calloused fingers. "It won't."
"But if it does," she said, voice breaking, "I need to know you'll protect them. Our children."
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers.
"I swear it, Larissa. On my name. On everything I am."
And in the silence that followed, she finally let herself cry.