Emily's body locked in place as though her bones had turned to stone. The clan pressed in on all sides, pale faces lit by fire, fangs glinting in the hungry dark. The forest that once seemed endless now felt like a cage. There was nowhere to run. No way out.
The leader, unspoken, unnamed, a figure who ruled without needing to declare, moved closer. The space between them collapsed with each step he took, and Emily swore the fire bent with him, shadows stretching in his wake. His eyes flickered over her, sharp and deliberate, as though every secret she'd ever carried was written plainly across her skin.
"She will do," he had said.
The words still rang in her head, louder than the crackle of flames, louder than Elena's broken sobs.
"What do you mean?" Emily forced out, though her voice cracked halfway through. "What are you going to do to us?"
A low growl swept through the clan, one by one, like a ripple of thunder. They didn't like her speaking. They didn't like the sound of her voice.
The leader raised his hand, and the growls silenced. Slowly, he leaned closer until Emily could see her reflection in his eyes.
"You will understand," he said softly, "when the blood decides."
Her stomach lurched. She didn't know what that meant, but dread twisted through her like a knife.
Beside her, Elena jerked against the hands that restrained her. "Stop talking in riddles! Just kill us if that's what you want!"
The clan laughed, a jagged chorus of sound that scraped the air raw. One of them shoved Elena forward, forcing her to her knees. She spat dirt from her mouth and glared upward, defiant even as her lip trembled.
The leader didn't strike her down. He only looked at her the way a wolf might look at a smaller animal who had forgotten its place. Then he lifted his hand again.
The circle of vampires parted.
Emily's breath caught when she saw what waited beyond them.
A clearing not in a natural way. The trees had been hacked down, their stumps blackened by fire. In the center stood a stone altar, carved from the same jagged rock as the symbols they'd seen etched into the forest. Dark stains streaked its surface, dried into the cracks. Above it, ropes of bone and vine hung like banners, rattling softly in the night wind.
The clan began to chant.
Low at first, just a vibration in their throats, but it grew, louder and louder, until the forest shook with it. The words weren't English. They weren't any language Emily knew. They were raw and guttural, rolling with a rhythm that made her stomach twist and her skin crawl.
Her captor shoved her forward, forcing her to stumble toward the altar. Elena was dragged beside her, both of them caught in the current of bodies pressing them onward.
"No, no, please..." Emily's voice broke, but it didn't matter. The chant drowned her out.
The altar loomed closer.
The leader walked ahead, his back straight, his movements slow, purposeful. He didn't need to rush. He didn't need to chase. The entire clan bent to his pace. When he stopped at the altar, the others fell into silence again.
Emily's chest heaved, her knees buckling. The vampire behind her yanked her up by the hair until she cried out, pain shooting through her scalp. Her legs stumbled forward against her will, carrying her straight to the blood-stained stone.
The leader turned to face her up close; the firelight revealed more of him: dark hair falling across his brow, features carved like the stone itself. His beauty was sharp, merciless, a thing that didn't belong to any world she knew. And his eyes… they glowed faintly, gold threaded with red, burning like an ember that never died.
He gestured to the altar.
"Lay her down."
Emily's chest constricted. "Nooo, nooo, noooo!" She kicked, thrashed, but the hands that gripped her were iron. They lifted her off her feet with ease and slammed her onto the cold stone. Her breath burst out in a choked cry as the wind was knocked from her lungs.
Elena screamed. "Stop it! Don't touch her!"
The leader's gaze slid toward her, unbothered by her outburst. "Bring the other."
"No!" Emily shouted, her voice breaking. "Leave her alone! Please, just take me, don't hurt her!"
But Elena was already being dragged forward, forced to kneel beside the altar. Her eyes shone wet in the firelight, her face streaked with dirt and tears.
The leader placed a hand against Emily's chest, not hard, not cruel, but firm enough that she couldn't move. His fingers were ice, burning even through the thin fabric of her shirt.
"You fear death," he murmured.
Emily shook her head violently. "No, no, I don't—I just—"
He tilted his head, studying her. "You lie."
She froze. Her lips parted, but no words came, because he was right.
She did fear it more than anything. And in that moment, with his eyes pinning her, it felt like he could taste the fear pumping through her veins as clearly as he could taste blood.
"Then you will understand," he said.
The chanting resumed.
Emily's captors pressed her arms against the stone, their claws pricking her skin. She cried out, fighting to free herself, but they were unyielding. The leader lifted a thin dagger, black blade as obsidian, its edge glimmering red in the firelight.
Her chest seized.
"Please, please don't—"
But he didn't drive it into her heart. Instead, he dragged the blade lightly across her forearm. A shallow cut, enough to draw blood.
Emily gasped, the sting sharp, but not fatal. Crimson welled from the wound, sliding down her skin. The leader caught it on his finger and lifted it to his lips.
The clan hushed when he tasted her blood.
For a heartbeat, the world stopped.
His expression didn't change. But something in his eyes did. A flicker, a tension, a hunger so sharp it cut through the silence like a blade.
"She is not for death," he said finally. His voice carried, firm and absolute. "She is for the clan."
The vampires roared, their voices shaking the trees.
Emily's body went numb with shock. Not for death? What did that mean?
Her eyes darted toward Elena, who trembled where she knelt, her face crumpling.
The leader gestured toward her next.
"Elena," he said, speaking her name as though he had always known it. "Prove yourself."
Emily's heart stopped.
The vampire holding Elena shoved her forward until she collapsed against the base of the altar. The leader handed her the blade.
Elena stared at it, her breath coming in short gasps. Her hands shook as she tried to push it away, but he forced it into her grip.
"Drink," he commanded. "Or die."
Emily's eyes widened in horror. "No, don't! Don't listen to him, Elena!"
Elena's hands trembled harder, the blade catching the firelight. She stared at Emily's bleeding arm, her lips trembling.
"I—I can't—"
The leader's voice sharpened, cutting through her protest. "Choose."
The clan watched, a wall of eyes and teeth, waiting.
Emily shook her head violently. "Elena, don't you dare! Don't you dare!"
Tears streamed down Elena's face. She sobbed once, loud and broken, and then, with a scream that tore from her throat, she pressed the blade to her own palm. Blood welled, bright against her skin.
She raised it to her lips and drank.
The clan erupted.
Emily screamed, fighting against the hands that pinned her, thrashing until her voice broke. "No! Elena, stop! Stop it!"
But Elena didn't stop. She kept drinking, and when she pulled her hand away, her eyes burned faintly red in the firelight.
The leader's lips curved into something that might have been approval.
Emily's sobs broke through the chaos. She had just watched her best friend cross a line she could never come back from. And she knew, with terrible clarity, that Elena had been claimed by them now, body and soul.
The clan surged forward, a tide of pale hands and eager faces, touching Elena as though welcoming her into their fold. They smeared her blood across their chests, their tongues catching the crimson that dripped from her trembling hand. Elena didn't resist. She didn't cry anymore. She only stared ahead with hollow eyes, her chest heaving as if some invisible cord pulled her deeper into their world.
"Elena!" Emily screamed, her voice raw, cracking. She lunged forward, but rough hands seized her arms and slammed her back against the altar stone. Pain shot through her shoulders. "Don't let them do this! Please, fight it! It's not you, it's not!"
Her words fractured, broken by sobs.
The leader stepped between them, his presence alone enough to silence Emily's cries for a moment. He didn't need to touch her. He didn't need to shout. His gaze was enough.
"She belongs to us," he said evenly. His voice carried the finality of a grave sealing shut.
Emily's mouth worked, but no words came. Her body trembled violently, terror shaking her bones.
The clan hissed, delighted by her question. One of them gripped her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her throat. "Spill her," the vampire snarled. His breath was rancid, his fangs gleaming. "She is weak, she resists. Her blood will season the ground."
The others roared in approval.
Emily thrashed, panic choking her, but her limbs were nothing against their grip. The dagger was pressed to her neck, cool against her racing pulse. She squeezed her eyes shut, every nerve in her body bracing for the strike.
"Do it!" someone howled.
"Bleed her dry!" another shrieked.
The leader's voice cut through the frenzy like steel. "No."
The air stilled. The dagger halted, its tip grazing her skin. A bead of blood welled at her throat, sliding down to her collar.
The leader's eyes locked on her, burning gold threaded with red. "Not this one," he said, his voice low but carrying. "She is marked."
The vampire holding her snarled in protest but lowered the blade instantly, bowing his head. None dared disobey.
Emily gasped for breath, her chest collapsing inward. "What?" she choked out.
The leader stepped closer, his shadow engulfing her where she lay against the altar. His hand brushed against her bloodied arm, the same one he had cut before. The gesture wasn't gentle at all, "You will learn what it means," he said.
The clan howled again, though not all in approval. Some sounded restless, unsatisfied, but none dared question him further.
Emily's gaze darted to Elena, her only anchor in this nightmare. But Elena's eyes glowed faintly red now, her lips still stained with blood. She didn't look at Emily the same way anymore. No recognition, no shared horror, no desperate plea to escape. Only emptiness.
For one terrible second, Emily saw it clear as day: Elena staring at her, not with love or fear, but with jealousy.
The leader gestured to the clan. "Take them," he ordered. "The night is long, and the Bloodscreams will feast."
Emily screamed as she was dragged from the altar, her knees scraping the dirt, her sobs breaking in her throat.