Chapter 3

POV Liora 

The sky outside my window had turned a soft, bruised shade of orange and purple by the time I woke, the sun hanging low above Kraithan’s rooftops. The city was still alive, but the streets had begun to take on the slower, golden haze of early evening. Lanterns flickered faintly along the cobblestones, competing with the last of the daylight, and the distant hum of merchants finishing up for the day drifted through the air.

Today was a rare gift—a day off. And for once, Mae had the same luxury. I stretched, letting the muscles in my back creak and pop, and rubbed my eyes. The apartment felt cozy, almost peaceful, though the faint smell of herbs Mae had left behind mingled with the lingering aroma of coffee from the morning.

A soft knock at the door made me start.

“Coffee delivery!” Mae called cheerfully before I even had a chance to answer.

I laughed, shuffling to the door. She stood there with her bright red hair catching the fading sun, green eyes gleaming, freckles sprinkled across her nose like sunlight on grass. In one hand, a steaming cup of coffee; on the other, a small plate with something I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know the contents of.

“You spoil me,” I said, stepping aside so she could come in.

“Only on days we don’t have to serve drunk nobles their third pint,” she said, nudging me lightly. “Besides, someone has to make sure you survive.”

We sat cross-legged on the floor, mugs in hand, the smell of fresh coffee filling the small apartment. Outside, Kraithan’s streets glimmered under the soft mix of lantern light and lingering sun, the city’s hum gentle yet persistent.

Mae took a long sip of her coffee, then leaned back on her hands, eyes serious. “So… about the whole… vampire thing.”

I flinched slightly, staring into the dark liquid in my mug. “I know, Mae. I’ve been thinking about it.”

She tilted her head, bright curls falling over her shoulder. “And?”

“And… I can’t stop thinking about what it would mean,” I admitted quietly. “The biggest issue? Becoming what killed my family. The same kind of monster that burned Rallen, that left me alive only to haunt me with memories. I can’t just… turn myself into that.”

Mae leaned closer, voice calm but insistent. “I know. I get it. But think about it—being turned isn’t the same as letting them win. If you do this… if you survive it… it’s a way to reach the vampire who did it.” She sipped her coffee again. “It’s a way to make it pay. To stop them from hurting anyone else. To protect the villages no one bothers to protect.”

I chewed my lip, heart thudding against my ribs. “And what if I… what if I can’t control it? What if I become the thing I’m hunting?”

Mae smiled faintly, not cruel, just realistic. “That’s the risk. But what’s the alternative? Staying human, waiting, hiding… running forever? You survived once. You survived the worst. This… this is just the next step. And you won’t be alone. I’ll be with you. We’ll figure it out.”

Her words lingered, heavy but warm. I stared down at the coffee in my hands, swirling the dark liquid as the sky outside deepened into dusky purple. I thought of Rallen, the ash, the screams, the people I couldn’t save. And then I thought of Mae, of Kraithan, of the chance to stop someone like that from ever hurting another village.

I took a deep breath. “It’s… terrifying.”

Mae nudged my shoulder gently. “Good. It should be. That means you care. That means you’ll survive it with purpose.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “Purpose. That’s a fancy way of saying… maybe I should consider it?”

Mae grinned, mischievous and serious at once. “Exactly. You’ve been dancing around this since I met you. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding from the possibility.”

We fell into a quiet silence after that, the only sound of the city outside, distant bells ringing and the river whispering along its docks. The coffee was warm, the soft evening light glowing across the floor, but my mind raced. Being turned wasn’t a choice to make lightly—it was a lifetime, a cross I wasn’t sure I could bear.

And yet… for the first time in a long while, the idea of hunting the vampire who destroyed everything, of protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves, seemed… possible.

Mae laughed softly, breaking the tension. “Also, I made pancakes. You better eat them before I eat them all.”

I smiled, setting the mug down. “Okay, okay. Pancakes first, terrifying life choices second.”

But deep down, I couldn’t ignore the pull. The thought of becoming more than human, stronger, faster… capable. Capable of revenge. Capable of protection.

And maybe, just maybe… It was time to consider what I’d been too afraid to think about for years.

The pancakes sat half-eaten between us, growing cold as the conversation shifted into something heavier. The lantern above flickered softly, casting long shadows across the walls, like the apartment itself was listening.

Mae broke the silence first.

“Okay,” she said slowly, tapping her fork against the plate. “Hypothetically. If you did decide to go through with it… where would we even go?”

I exhaled through my nose. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

She leaned back, folding her arms. “Because you can’t exactly walk up to a vampire and say, ‘Hi, please don’t kill me, but could you turn my friend?’ That gets us murdered in about five seconds.”

“Generous estimate,” I muttered.

I stood and moved toward the window, peering down at the street below. The evening crowd had thickened—vendors calling out, lanterns glowing brighter as dusk deepened, people brushing past one another without a care in the world. Somewhere among them, there could be vampires. Watching. Listening.

“Kraithan isn’t safe for that,” I said. “Not unless you know who you’re dealing with. Most vampires here either belong to covens or answer to someone higher. And outsiders asking for a turning? That’s seen as a weakness. Or bait.”

Mae frowned. “So we’re dead either way.”

“Not necessarily,” I said, though the word tasted uncertain. “There are places. Old places. Border cities. Ruins where laws don’t reach. Places vampires go when they don’t want oversight.”

Mae’s eyes lit with interest—and concern. “That sounds worse.”

“It is worse,” I admitted. “But it’s also where you might survive long enough to choose who turns you. Someone controlled. Someone with restraint.”

“And someone who won’t just drain you dry and dump your body,” she added.

“Exactly.”

Mae went quiet, chewing on her lip. “So what you’re saying is… if we do this wrong, you die. If we do it right, you live—but everything changes.”

I turned back toward her. “Yes. And there’s another part no one likes to talk about.”

She met my gaze. “Which is?”

“You don’t just survive the turning because you want revenge,” I said softly. “You survive because you have something anchoring you. Something human. If not… you don’t come back the same.”

Mae swallowed. “So if I ever did this… if you did this… you’d need a reason that isn’t just hate.”

I nodded. “Hate burns too fast. It doesn’t last centuries.”

The room felt smaller suddenly, the walls closer. Outside, laughter drifted up from the street, careless and bright.

Mae finally let out a breath. “So we’re not doing anything stupid tomorrow.”

“No,” I said firmly. “If this ever happens, it’s planned. Carefully. With information. And an exit.”

She gave a crooked smile. “You always were the smart one.”

I snorted. “No. I’m just the one who’s scared enough to think things through.”

Mae stood and crossed the room, resting her shoulder against mine as we both looked out the window.

“Still,” she said quietly, “it helps knowing there is a way. Even if it’s dangerous.”

I didn’t answer right away.

Because the truth was, knowing there was a way made the idea feel less like madness—and more like something inevitable.

And that scared me more than anything else.