A Wolf's Heart, A vampire's Vow

ll, feather duster in hand, already an hour into her daily rounds. By now, the rhythm of the place was familiar: early cleaning, breakfast prep, mid-morning tasks. Most servants whispered to

the warmth rising in her cheeks. Foolish, she thought. He's not your friend. He's the Alpha's heir. But something in her chest whispered: He doesn't look at you like the others do Duncan She was infuriatingly composed. Duncan watched Lydia glide through the room like smoke ..quiet, poised, always alert. She answered directly but never too much. She offered nothing unless asked. And yet, he couldn't stop watching her. It had started with a flicker of curiosity. But now, every time she entered a room, his senses sharpened. The scent of her, like frost after a thunderstorm ,called to him. His wolf stirred. But there was nothing familiar in her scent. No pack, no region. It was like she came from nowhere. Or from somewhere long forgotten. His father called him overly trusting. His mother said he was too drawn to broken things. But Lydia didn't seem broken. She seemed caged. He'd seen wolves like that before,rescued from exile, from bloodlust, from battle. There was always a stillness in them that bordered on grief. Lydia had that stillness. And yet, her eyes... When she looked at him, it was like standing at the edge of something sacred and dangerous. He wanted to step closer. But that was reckless. After Lydia left the library, Duncan paced for a while. Something about her mention of the book ,"The Forgotten Sea "lingered. A vampire's book. He remembered that detail now. The author, Althera of Veritas, had been part of the old vampire council before the uprising. The book had been banned in many towns during the purges. She knew it by name. That wasn't normal. He pulled the book off the shelf and opened to the inscription: "To those who remember who they once were and dare to love again." His breath caught. Then he snapped it shut Lydia Later that night, Lydia sat in the greenhouse again, legs folded beneath her skirt, fingers playing with the hem of her cloak. She'd tucked The Forgotten Sea beneath her apron after Duncan left, taking it like a forbidden relic. Now it sat in her lap, old leather cover worn smooth by countless hands. She hadn't held this book in over a decade. Not since her mother read it to her the night before she died. Not since the blood ran through the village streets and her people were hunted like beasts. Lydia opened to the first page and closed her eyes. "Once, there was a world beneath the sea, where magic did not demand loyalty, and love did not require blood." A tear slid down her cheek before she could stop it. Isolde would've scolded her for crying. But Isolde was gone. I wish you were here, Lydia thought, clutching the necklace. Then, something stirred outside the greenhouse. A shadow. A sound too soft for human ears ,but not for hers. She stood quickly, senses flaring. A wolf? She slipped out the side door and peered