Chapter 2

POV Liora

The streets of Kraithan were quiet, almost serene, as I stepped out into the early morning haze. The city didn’t truly sleep—it just slowed down. Lanterns still flickered, casting long, soft shadows across the cobblestones, and steam curled from the manhole grates like lazy ghosts. The scent of wet stone and hot bread from the baker’s ovens drifted lazily in the air.

Mae was waiting by the bottom of the stairs, one hand tugging at the sleeve of her coat, the other cradling a steaming cup of coffee. Her red hair was a mess of curls and spikes, golden strands catching the early light. I couldn’t help but grin.

“Morning, sunshine,” she said, taking a long sip and making a dramatic groan. “Coffee first, humanity second.”

“Your priorities are… admirable,” I said, adjusting my coat and grabbing my bag. “I like that about you. Keeps you from being boring.”

She snorted, elbowing me lightly as we started walking down the street together. “Boring is overrated. Exciting gets you killed in a city like this.”

I laughed, dodging a puddle that reflected the pale dawn. “Exciting is part of the charm. Remember, we survived being human villages blown to ash. I think a little city chaos counts as light exercise.”

Mae shot me a sidelong glance, smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re ridiculous. And terrifying.”

We walked past shuttered shops, lanterns flickering against polished wood, and the occasional cat slinking through the shadows like it owned the streets. Kraithan was waking slowly—merchants dragging barrels into their stalls, guards polishing their armor for another day, the river glinting faintly in the morning light.

After a block, Mae nudged me with her shoulder. “So… serious question.” She sipped her coffee, green eyes darting toward me. “Are you any closer to finding the vampire who destroyed your family?”

I stiffened, tightening my grip on my bag strap. The question always hit like cold water. I glanced at her. She was smiling faintly, trying to keep it casual, but the curiosity in her eyes made me remember how similar we were. Our villages. The loss. The weeks we’d spent hiding, terrified, wondering who had survived.

“I’m… getting there,” I said carefully. “It’s not like you can just knock on the door and ask politely.” I tried to keep my tone light, but the memory of ash, screams, and fire lingered in my chest.

Mae took a long sip of her coffee, chewing the corner of her lip. “Yeah… I get it.” She paused, her eyes thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking, Liora.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. This is rarely a good sign.”

“I’m thinking about… being turned,” she said finally, voice quiet. “I mean… it’s stupid, maybe. Dangerous. Wrong. But… maybe it’s the only way to… survive like you’ve had to survive.”

I stopped mid-step, blinking at her. The sun was just beginning to light the rooftops, and for a moment, the world held its breath. Mae’s green eyes, usually full of mischief, were serious. Real. Vulnerable.

“You’re not wrong,” I said carefully, letting my voice soften. “But you have to mean it. It’s… forever. And it’s not like it fixes everything. You don’t get your village back. You don’t get the people you lost. You just… keep living. Or surviving.”

Mae shrugged, swirling her coffee in the cup. “I know. But I keep thinking… maybe it would make me strong enough to… I don’t know. Make a difference. Protect the people I still care about. Stop being afraid all the time.”

I reached out and bumped her shoulder, smiling faintly. “You’ve always been one of the strongest people I know. But if you do this, you do it for you. Not for me. Not for the city. Not for revenge. Just… you.”

She smirked again, that mischievous glint returning. “Fine. But if I survive the first night, you owe me coffee every morning forever.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Deal. But only if you promise not to turn me into a cup of coffee in your first week.”

We fell into step again, walking past the waking city. The streets were quieter now, save for the merchants, the smell of fresh bread, and the faint hum of magic that lingered in the air—barely visible, like the shimmer of heat on cobblestones. Kraithan had enough chaos to hide the supernatural. People ignored the rumors of vampires and werewolves, tolerated minor magic here and there, as long as it didn’t inconvenience them.

It was safer than a village. Safer than hiding in the woods. Safer than running through fire.

For the first time that morning, I felt… like maybe surviving was enough.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and stepped inside, shaking off the chill of the early morning air. The familiar creak of the wooden floorboards greeted me like an old friend, and the faint smell of herbs Mae had left behind mingled with the lingering aroma of coffee I’d carried from the street.

The lantern on the wall cast a warm glow across the room, softening the edges of the furniture—the worn cot in the corner, the small writing desk cluttered with papers, the chipped mugs stacked in the kitchen nook. Everything was in its place, orderly in a way the world outside never was. I set my bag down and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes tracing the lines of dust floating in the morning light.

Mae’s words echoed in my mind. “I’m thinking about… being turned.”

I hadn’t expected her to say it so casually, as though sipping coffee and walking through Kraithan streets made life-and-death choices seem ordinary. But she wasn’t wrong. Not entirely.

I sank onto the cot, letting my legs stretch out in front of me. My fingers traced the edges of the blankets, rough and worn from years of use. Mae had always been fearless in ways I wasn’t, willing to consider the unimaginable, willing to leap into the unknown if it meant survival. And for the first time, I realized… maybe I had been running from the same possibility.

What if she was right?

The thought prickled in my chest, sharp and unwelcome. A part of me had been avoiding it for years. Not because it was impossible, not because it was dangerous—but because it was permanent. Because it meant confronting everything I’d buried under work, under laughter, under city noise.

I closed my eyes and pictured the night of the village burning. Ash and smoke. Screams echoing through the trees. My mother’s face, my father’s, my sisters’. I’d survived. I’d hidden. I’d run. I’d buried it all.

But running hadn’t solved everything.

Mae had survived too. She had her life, her freedom, her fire. And now she was considering the path I’d been too scared to look at. And suddenly… I found myself wondering if maybe it wasn’t so insane to think about it.

I shook my head and let out a shaky laugh. “Crazy,” I whispered to the quiet apartment. “Absolutely insane.”

But even as I said it, I felt the thought nestle into the corners of my mind, soft and persistent. Maybe being strong enough to survive wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe I needed to consider… becoming more than just human.

I stared at the single lantern, flickering slightly as if in time with my heartbeat. The city outside was waking, oblivious, full of people who ignored the supernatural for convenience. And in my quiet little apartment, I let myself imagine… just for a moment… what it would mean to step into a world where survival wasn’t just hiding in the shadows.

Where I could stop running.

Maybe Mae was right.

Maybe it was time to stop thinking and start considering it.