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Chapter 3 - CHAPTER 3: WHISPERS IN THE DARK & THE BLOOD MOON VOW**

The caves beneath the Snake Clan's territory wept. Water dripped from jagged stone teeth. Moss glowed sickly green. Stank of wet scales and old blood.

Five figures huddled around a fire that gave no warmth.

**Elder Borin** (Vampire): Skin grey as grave dust. Eyes red-rimmed. *"He drinks them. Humans. Like wine."* His fangs gleamed, but his hand shook. *"Sunlight burns us now. The fields reek of death."*

**Mara** (Fairy Elder): Wings—once shimmery blue—hung limp, edges blackened. She clutched a wilted garlic bloom. *"He bleeds us dry for his crops. Our magic twists… poisons the soil."* Silver tears cut tracks down her cheeks. *"We fade."*

**Kael** (Werewolf Alpha): Face slashed raw. Ulric's blood still crusted under his nails. *"He sacrificed my pack. My mate. For *nothing*."* A growl ripped from his throat. *"The Blood Moon didn't bless him. It *cursed* us all."*

**Silas** (Human Elder): Ragged cloak. Eyes hollow. He held a rusted locket—a tiny painting of his grandson. The boy who swung from the Oak. *"We hide by day. Hunted by night. Cattle."*

**Vesryn** (Snake Elder): Hooded. Eyes like yellow slits. Tongue flicked. *"Ssssaw the mirror… in his vault."* Silence. Even the drip of water stopped. *"It whisperrrsss. It *feeds*."*

Mara flinched. *"The old stories… the mirror prison…"*

*"Not just a prison,"* Vesryn hissed. *"A conduit. To things… older. Darker."*

Borin slammed a fist on stone. Dust rained. *"We fight! Rally the clans—"*

*"Fight?"* Kael bared his teeth. *"He tore out Ulric's heart like it was *fruit*! Your vampires obey him!"*

*"Out of fear!"* Borin shot back. *"He'll butcher us all!"*

Silas spoke soft. Dead soft. *"So we die hiding? Or die fighting?"* He opened the locket. The boy's smile stared back. *"There's another way."*

All eyes snapped to him.

*"The Blood Moon Prophecy,"* Silas whispered. *"The one the earth whispers when kings turn rotten."*

Mara gasped. *"The Five-Warrior Sacrifice? But that's…"*

*"Suicide,"* Kael snarled.

*"Hope,"* Silas said. He pulled a crumbling scroll from his cloak. Unrolled it. Symbols bled into the firelight—a bone circle. Five figures. A moon drowning in blood. *"At the next Blood Moon—five years from now—we offer our strongest. One from each clan. Their blood… their *life*… calls the balance back."*

Vesryn leaned close. Tongue tasted the scroll. *"Old magic. Sssacred. Dangerousss."*

*"It banished the First Tyrant,"* Mara breathed. *"Sealed him in star-metal…"*

*"And created the mirror,"* Vesryn finished.

Borin stared into the cold fire. *"Ralph *is* the mirror's echo. Its poison given flesh."*

*"Who do we sacrifice?"* Kael's voice was gravel. *"Volunteers? Or do we rip them from their families?"*

Silence. Heavy. Thick with guilt.

Then—

*"Me,"* Silas said. *"For humans."*

Mara touched her rotting wing. *"I offer my granddaughter. Lyssa. Her magic… pure."*

Kael closed his eyes. *"My son. Garron. Last of Ulric's bloodline."*

Borin trembled. *"My… my heir. Theron."*

Vesryn's hood shifted. *"Myssself. The oldesst sssnake. My venom… potent."*

The pact was made. No oaths. Just trembling hands clasped over the fire.

---

**Above Ground**

Ralph stood on his balcony. The village of Oak sprawled below—lanterns snuffed out. Fear hung like fog.

In his palm, the mirror ball glowed. Warm. *Alive*.

*"They plot…"* it purred in his mind.

He smiled. *"Where?"*

*"Deep…"* the mirror sighed. *"Where stone weeps…"*

Ralph's fist clenched. The mirror flared hot.

*"Show me."*

The glass swirled. Fog cleared. Revealed—

—The cave. The five elders. Hands clasped.

*"Silas…"* Ralph hissed. *"The bleeder elder."*

The mirror showed Silas' face. Resolute. Sacrificial.

*"Blood moon… five years…"* the mirror whispered. *"They would cage you again…"*

Rage burned Ralph's throat. *"Never."*

He hurled the mirror ball. It hit marble—*cracked*. Not shattered. A single fissure snaked across its surface.

From the crack, a wisp of shadow leaked. Coiled like smoke. Solidified into… *a clawed hand*.

Ralph froze.

The hand flexed. Fingernails black as obsidian.

*"Yessss…"* the mirror crooned. *"Blood feeds me… but *fear*… fear makes me *strong*."*

The shadow-hand dissolved.

Ralph picked up the mirror. Ran a thumb over the crack. Cold seeped into his bones.

*"Five years,"* he whispered. *"I'll drown their hope in blood long before then."*

He turned. Stared toward the Snake Clan's mountains.

*"Find them,"* he told the darkness. *"Bring me their heads. Especially the snake's."*

Shadows detached from corners. Vampire assassins. Silent. Deadly.

*"And Silas?"* one hissed.

*"Alive,"* Ralph said. *"I want his heart still beating… when I feed it to the mirror."*

---

**Deep in the Cave**

Vesryn stiffened. Tongue flicked frantic. *"Ssscent! Vampire blood! *Close*!"*

The elders scattered.

But as Silas fled through a crevice, a hand grabbed his ankle.

*"Got you, bleeder,"* a vampire sneered.

Silas slammed his rusted locket into the vamp's eye. Bone crunched. The vamp screamed.

Silas ran.

Behind him, snarls. A wet *thud*. Kael's roar. *"GO!"*

The cave echoed with dying screams.

Silas didn't look back. He ran toward the human slums. Toward a tiny hut where a young woman—Lucia—slept, unknowing.

Her belly swelled.

*His great-grandchild.*

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