Clone

The moon had turned red.

For generations, the elders would tell stories about nights like this one. They would say that a red moon was never a good omen, that it appeared whenever the balance between the supernatural races was disturbed. They would say it meant blood would be spilled and kingdoms would fall.

But tonight, the vampires called it a blessing.

The battlefield stretched for miles beneath the crimson sky. Smoke rose from the remains of destroyed villages, broken weapons lay buried in the earth, and the banners of the defeated werewolves had been trampled into the mud. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the fading sounds of battle.

The vampires had won. After centuries of fighting, the werewolf armies had finally been forced to retreat. At the center of the battlefield stood King Lucien Valerius. He was surrounded by hundreds of vampires, yet no one dared approach him. The Vampire King stood perfectly still, his black coat stained with blood, his silver crown resting against his dark hair. His face revealed nothing.

He had won.

The kingdom he had spent centuries fighting for was finally within his grasp. The supernatural council could no longer deny the strength of the vampire kingdom. The werewolves had been defeated. The witches had remained neutral.

The smaller supernatural races were already beginning to swear allegiance.

The Valerius dynasty had never been more powerful.

And yet Lucien wasn't looking at the armies.

He was looking at the girl lying several feet away.

"Seraphina."

Queen Isolde's voice broke.

She fell beside the body.

"No."

Her hands trembled as she touched her daughter's face.

Seraphina Valerius.

Princess of the vampires.

Heir to the Valerius throne.

The most powerful young vampire the supernatural realm had seen in centuries.

The girl who had led the final assault against the werewolves.

The girl who had defeated their strongest warriors.

The girl who had been expected to rule beside her parents one day.

Now she was dead.

"No," Isolde repeated.

Lucien slowly approached.

"Isolde."

"Don't."

The queen looked up at him with tears streaming down her face.

"Don't tell me she's gone."

Lucien stared at his daughter. He wanted to say something. Anything. But the king who had faced armies without fear suddenly couldn't find the words. One of the royal commanders approached cautiously.

"Your Majesty..."

Lucien turned.

"What?"

"The victory is ours."

Lucien's eyes became cold.

"I don't care."

The commander lowered his head.

"Of course."

"Leave us."

The commander hesitated.

"Your Majesty-"

"Leave."

The commander immediately obeyed.

Within minutes, the soldiers began moving away.

The celebration that had started around the battlefield slowly disappeared.

Soon, there were only three people left.

Lucien.

Isolde.

And Seraphina.

But they weren't truly alone.

A girl stood several yards away.

Ava.

She had followed the army to the battlefield despite being ordered to remain in the palace.

She hadn't come to fight.

She had come because she wanted to see her sister.

She wanted to see Seraphina return victorious.

She had imagined running toward her.

She had imagined hugging her.

She had imagined saying how proud she was.

Now she could only stare.

Ava had always loved her sister.

Even when Seraphina ignored her.

Even when Seraphina mocked her.

Even when their parents compared them.

Even when Ava watched her mother spend hours brushing Seraphina's hair while barely looking at her.

She had still loved her.

That was why watching her die hurt so much.

Ava wiped a tear from her cheek.

Then she noticed something.

Her father was staring at her.

Not at Seraphina.

At her.

Her mother slowly followed his gaze.

For a moment, Ava felt something strange.

Her mother's expression changed.

The grief was still there, but something else had entered her eyes.

Something Ava couldn't understand.

Isolde stood.

"Lucien."

He didn't answer.

"Lucien."

"What?"

Isolde looked at Ava.

"We still have another daughter."

Ava's heart stopped.

Her father remained silent.

Isolde walked toward her.

Ava instinctively stepped backward.

"Mother?"

Isolde stopped in front of her.

She looked at Ava's face.

Then at Seraphina.

Then back at Ava.

Ava didn't understand.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her mother raised a trembling hand and touched her cheek.

Ava hadn't felt that kind of tenderness from her mother in years.

"You're her twin."

Ava swallowed.

"I know."

Isolde's eyes filled with tears.

"No."

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"You're her twin."

Ava stared at her.

Something about the way she said it made Ava uncomfortable.

"What are you thinking?"

Isolde didn't answer.

Lucien finally walked toward them.

"Take Ava back to the palace."

Ava frowned.

"Why?"

Neither parent answered.

"Father?"

Lucien looked at her.

For the first time in Ava's life, there was something unfamiliar in her father's eyes.

Hope.

Not the kind of hope a father had for his daughter.

Something colder.

Something calculated.

"Ava," he said, "we're going to have a conversation."

She looked between her parents.

"What about?"

Her father glanced at Seraphina's body.

Then back at her.

"Your sister."

Ava's stomach tightened.

"What about her?"

Lucien's answer changed her life forever.

"She's coming home."