Prologue
Time passed for everyone—everyone but us. It stopped for us, marked us, and cursed us.
The house we lived in belonged to vampires—elegant, influential figures draped in secrets.
They looked like they’d stepped out of a forgotten age, a shadowed tale no one dared to finish telling.
My sister and I had always been... different.
People said we were angels.
Strangers would stop to stare at us, as if trying to see something in us they couldn’t quite name.
But being different always made me feel like a stranger—even to myself.
Sometimes I think the past is over. Then it returns, crawling. That one night, always. No matter how many years pass between us, the night will always be there for me.
With her deep, ancient eyes, soft brown hair that moved like a whisper of cloud, and a calm warmth that seemed to last forever, our mother Olin looked like she had stepped out of a storybook.
There was a rare tenderness about her. I genuinely thought she was an angel. However, I had no idea what that meant. I was only five years old. Six, perhaps. The only remnants of her that I have left are shards, faint voices, blurred memories, and a tenderness that only exists in my imagination. Olin embodied all of my values. And she was taken that night as well.
We were like princesses. Amidst mists and wooded hills, a tiny kingdom lies concealed—ancient Hungary.
We felt secure then. Time seemed to have held its breath and had lost the ability to let go.
But like a painting stripped bare by rain, everything was erased. There was nothing but emptiness—an opening in the heart.
Then came the night that everything broke down.
There was silence at first. The stillness was thick and slicing, dividing the air like a blade, but it wasn’t just any silence.
Then there was the sound, the yells. The clash of swords. Howls of agony. My lungs burned as the smell of blood and smoke clung to my throat. It was a burning world.
I was terrified when I woke up. My heart thundered like a war drum. I ran to the window—and saw the end. Flames devouring homes. Bodies strewn. People running—nowhere.
Everything collapsed.
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I ran to Mother, to the last place I thought hope might still exist. But when I found her...she was no longer mine.
She stood beside a knight on horseback. Her gaze was fixed forward, not on me.
Her expression was distant and cold. Her eyes were hollow, not seeing—obeying. No matter how hard I tried to swallow the sobs, she didn’t turn. Didn’t see me.
I stood there, frozen. Just a little girl who wanted her mother to see her. To hold her. To save her.
But all that was left of her was a shell. Empty. Soulless.
Something inside me shrank, like a heart folding in on itself just before it shatters. But there was no time to fall apart.
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I remembered Abigail. My sister. Only three years old. She was my small light in the darkest nights.
I ran to her—faster than I ever knew I could.
I reached her room—and stopped.
The door was open. I stepped forward—
And then it happened. Cold hands gripped me. Nails dug into my skin.
My throat tightened, as if an invisible spell had paralyzed me.
His eyes met mine. There was something in them that didn’t make sense—softness, maybe... even guilt. And something else—something that felt like mine. And that terrified me more than anything.
Then, without a word, he placed Abigail in my arms. Just a sliver of gentleness—and he stepped away.
But every shred of kindness only deepened the truth: I couldn’t trust him. There was nothing safe about him.
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They took us into the forest. He stopped. Looked at me.
“Do you see this forest?” he whispered.
I froze.
“Run,” he said. “In different directions.”
I didn’t understand.
I looked at him, at Abigail in my arms, and then back at him.
“But... she’s only three,” I whispered, trying not to tremble. “If we separate—she won’t cry. She’ll... disappear.”
He was quiet. And then he said, “She’ll disappear, like she never was. That’s what happens when they see too much.”
Something in his eyes... flickered. Regret? Longing? Maybe he couldn’t fight them. Perhaps he didn’t try.
He whispered, a breath full of despair:
“I’ll be watching you.”
Not a promise—a curse.
My skin prickled.
“What do you know about us?” I asked, not sure if I was challenging him or just scared.
He smiled as if he’d been waiting for that question.
“I know everything, Amilia. Even the parts of you that you haven’t discovered yet.”
The world stopped.
My breath vanished, as though something had sealed my lungs.
And something in me...closed.
Forever.
Since then, time hasn’t moved.
It only waits to see when I’ll fall.
