Chapter 1 — Chapter 1

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*Seraphine*

Ash. That’s all that remains of Kael Drake. Ash, and the bitter sting of memories I wish I could burn away.

“What have I done?” My voice trembles as I stare at the smoking pile on my bedroom floor, hands still tingling with the aftershock of magic. The acrid scent of charred flesh chokes the air, drowning out the lingering sweetness of the moments we shared just hours ago. My skin crawls with the ghost of his touch, but I crush the thought before it can take root. The heat from my palms fades, replaced by an icy dread that claws at my chest.

*Althea.*

He had pictures of Althea on his phone. My mind reels, torn between the memory of his quiet laugh earlier tonight and the damning images of my missing sister, chained like an animal. How could I have trusted him, even for a moment? I didn’t mean for the magic to flare like that, not after seeing those photos, but it surged out of me—a wildfire I couldn’t control.

*Gran.*

She’s the only one who can help. With trembling fingers, I snatch my phone from the bedside table.

“Pick up. Please, pick up!” My breath is ragged as the call dials through. I need help. I need answers. Most of all, I need to know how to undo this nightmare.

I just murdered the vampire I was starting to care for.

*No. Stop lying to yourself. You weren’t falling for him.*

The ringtone cuts off as Gran answers. “Seraphine! How lovely to hear from you, sweetheart—”

“Gran!” I interrupt, voice cracking. “Gran, I’ve done something awful. Please hurry!”

“Seraphine?” Her tone shifts to sharp concern. “What’s going on?”

“I-I can’t talk about it over the phone. Please… I just need you here.”

“Where are you?” she asks without hesitation.

“I’m… I’m at home.”

“I’m on my way.” The call ends. God, I love Gran. No questions, no demands—just action. I sag into the chair in the far corner of my bedroom, staring at the ash in mute horror. The smoke has dissipated, but the stench clings to my throat, a bitter reminder of death. My stomach churns, and my mouth feels like sandpaper.

Minutes drag like hours as I wait, wrapped in a bedsheet, unable to move. The runes etched into the wall pulse faintly, dimmed by my outburst, as if they, too, are ashamed of what I’ve done. I’m still frozen there when Gran arrives, letting herself in with the spare key. She’s always nearby with her portal charms, a habit from years of watching over me. She stands in the doorway of my bedroom, taking in the scene with a sharp intake of breath.

Our eyes meet. Mine burn, brimming with unshed tears as I hold her gaze.

“I killed him,” I whisper. Gran’s expression tightens, her eyes darting around the room before she hurries toward me. “I killed him, Gran!” I bury my face in my hands as she reaches me, her arm wrapping around my shoulders, a familiar refuge like every time she’s saved me before. Her hand trembles slightly against me, betraying a flicker of her own fear. I weep, the sobs wracking my body, and Gran stays silent for the long moments it takes me to pull myself together. Then, leaning back and sinking onto her haunches in front of me, she looks into my face.

“Let’s go over this, shall we?” Her voice is firm but carries a soothing undercurrent.

I draw a shaky breath and dip my head in agreement.

“He was here. Kael?” she asks, though I suspect she already knows. I’ve warned you about him before, her eyes seem to say.

“Yes.” The word scrapes out, hoarse and raw.

“And you were… together…?” She glances at the rumpled bed, then back at me. The question hangs heavy; I’m still naked beneath the sheet.

I manage a weak gesture of confirmation, unable to voice that I spent the past hours entangled with my sister’s abductor.

Gran purses her lips. “You’re going to need to tell me what happened, Seraphine.”

I pull in a deep breath. “We… we…” I shoot another glance at the bed. “After we… you know…” God, how do I even explain this to Gran? “We were talking. He got a message on his phone. He’d been so secretive with it all night, always angling it away from me. Curiosity got the better of me, so I looked.” My voice threatens to break. “It was Althea, Gran. He had pictures of Althea on his phone.”

Gran’s face hardens in an instant. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. Her face was clear as day. And… and… she was chained, Gran. Like a beast!” I shudder, Althea’s hollow eyes staring back from those images searing into my memory. “The message said, ‘This one might be more to your taste.’” Tears prick at my eyes again. “They’ve had her all this time, Gran. They’re *feeding* from her!” A chill sinks into my bones, as if I’ll never feel warm again.

Gran lowers herself to the floor, heedless of the dirt smudging her pristine white trousers. She rubs a hand over her face, lost in thought for a long moment.

“What do I do now, Gran?” I whisper. I’ve never faced anything this shattering. My mind can’t grasp it. What if I can’t control this power next time?

Her eyes meet mine, heavy with concern. “This is… complicated, Seraphine. The repercussions could be severe.”

“Repercussions?” My stomach twists into knots.

“Once the others find out—the covens, the vampire clans…” She shakes her head. “There’s going to be trouble. Ever since the Nightfall Pact failed last year, tensions have been a hair’s breadth from snapping.”

My eyes widen. “But he had pictures of Althea! Surely they’ll understand?”

“It’s not that simple,” Gran cuts in, her voice gentle but unyielding. “Kael was a powerful figure among the vampires. His… disappearance won’t go unnoticed. The Conclave will demand answers. And the vampires… they may want retribution.”

My breath catches. “Retribution? But I didn’t mean to—”

“Intent doesn’t always matter, sweetheart. Things are already so tense, and the covens…” She trails off, brow furrowed.

“The covens?” I prompt, dread pooling in my chest.

Gran sighs. “Some will cheer you on for striking a vampire. Others… they’ll want you out. See you as a liability. We can’t risk a split now.”

Oh, God. This is worse than I could have imagined. “But Gran, I—”

“What the hell is going on in here?” A familiar chittering cuts me off. Ashling perches on the windowsill, her tiny eyes scanning the scene. My familiar, bound to me since childhood, twitches her little nose in distaste. “Well, well,” her tone drips with dry humor, “I leave you unsupervised for one night, and there’s vampire dust everywhere. First your herb garden, now a bloodsucker? You’re a walking disaster, Seraphine.”

“Ashling, this is serious! I just—”

“Just torched your vampire lover. Yes, I can see that. Smell it, too.” She flicks her tail dismissively, though a flicker of worry glints in her tiny eyes. “I’ve cleaned up worse messes for you, kid, but this… this is a new low.”

“That’s enough, Ashling,” Gran chides, her voice sharp. She turns back to me. “We need to act quickly. First, we clean up this… mess. Then, we contact the coven elders before word spreads.”

I swallow hard. “Word?”

“We won’t keep this quiet, child.” Standing slowly, she presses a hand to her back, grimacing as she stretches. My chest tightens—I’ve made my grandmother feel her age today.

“Okay,” I murmur, knowing she’s right.

I watch numbly as Gran begins to clear the ash. My stomach lurches.

“Come on, Seraphine. We need to get this sorted fast,” Gran urges, her tone gentle but firm. “I can’t use magic to… dispose of remains… without creating a ripple. Vampire essence lingers, detectable by their kind.”

I force myself to move, self-consciously pulling on a robe before joining her. I straighten the bedclothes while she sweeps up… him. I wince as ash clings to my fingers, finer than sand, heavier than guilt. As we work, Gran outlines our next steps.

“We’ll need to contact the Coven Conclave immediately. This… incident could have far-reaching consequences.”

“What do you think they’ll do?” I ask, voice small.

Gran sighs. “It’s hard to say. But we need to control the narrative before—”

A sharp knock at the door cuts her off. We freeze, exchanging panicked glances. My heart hammers as a distant sound—footsteps?—snaps me from my daze.

“Seraphine? Are you alright?” Mom’s voice filters through the door. “We saw smoke coming from your cottage.”

“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath. Gran shoots me a pointed look.

“Just a minute!” I call, striving to keep my voice steady. I turn to Gran, panic clawing at my chest. “What do we do?”

“We can’t hide this from them,” Gran says firmly. “They’ll find out eventually. Better it comes from us.”

I take a deep breath, my hand hovering over the doorknob, dread pooling in my gut. Finally, I open the door to find Mom and Dad standing there, concern etched on their faces.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” Dad asks, his eyes scanning the room behind me.

After a heartbeat of hesitation, I step back, letting them in. The scent of smoke guides them straight to my bedroom, and I trail behind, hands fidgeting. Their eyes widen as they take in the scene—the hastily made bed, the pile of ash, and Gran’s grim expression.

“Oh, Seraphine,” Mom breathes, her hand flying to her mouth. “What happened?”

I open my mouth, but no sound comes. How do I even begin?

Gran steps forward, placing a steadying hand on my shoulder. “We’ve had an… incident,” she says carefully. “It seems Seraphine’s powers have manifested in an unexpected way.”

Dad’s eyes narrow. “What kind of incident?”

I take a shaky breath. “I… I killed someone. A vampire.”

The silence that follows is deafening, louder than any scream.