Chapter One

Echoes of the Past

The night air was thick with mist as Ethan and Tristan moved silently through the narrow alleyways of the ancient city. The cobblestones beneath their feet were slick with the remnants of a recent rain, and the only sound was the occasional drip of water from the rooftops above. The streets of Prague were eerily quiet, as though the city itself sensed the tension brewing beneath its surface.

Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation—after all, they had spent the better part of the last year dodging threats from rogue vampires, councils, and hidden enemies—but tonight, it felt different. The shadows seemed longer, the air colder, as if the past was reaching out to touch them, to remind them that no matter how far they had come, they were never truly safe.

“Do you feel it?” Ethan asked, his voice low as they turned another corner.

Tristan, always vigilant, gave a slight nod, his sharp eyes scanning the darkened street ahead. “Something’s changed,” he murmured, his voice tense but calm. “It’s been like this for days now.”

They had felt the shift ever since the cryptic warning from the mysterious figure—an omen of something darker rising within the vampire world. At first, they had dismissed it as little more than superstition, the ramblings of an outcast trying to sow discord. But as the days passed, the signs had become harder to ignore. The vampire world was on edge, and everywhere they went, the same whispered warnings followed them: Something is coming.

Ethan glanced at Tristan, the unease gnawing at him. “Do you think it’s the council? That they’re hiding something?”

Tristan shook his head, his expression grim. “If it were the council, we’d have heard about it by now. This is something else… something older.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Ethan felt a chill run down his spine. Something older. It was a phrase that had been whispered in dark corners of the vampire world for as long as he could remember—rumors of ancient forces, long thought extinct, stirring from their slumber. Vampires spoke of these forces in hushed tones, as though even mentioning them would summon their wrath.

But Ethan couldn’t afford to be afraid. Not now. Not after everything he and Tristan had fought for. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it. Together.”

Tristan’s gaze softened, and he gave Ethan’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Always,” he said, his voice firm. “But we need answers.”

As they continued their journey through the winding streets, the city seemed to close in around them, the weight of history pressing down from every direction. Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking through the echoes of the past—ancient, invisible forces watching their every move, waiting for the right moment to strike.

By the time they reached their destination—a crumbling mansion on the outskirts of the city, rumored to house one of the oldest vampire seers in Europe—Ethan felt the tension between them like a coiled spring, ready to snap. The seer’s home was hidden deep within the shadows of the old quarter, its windows dark and shuttered, the stone walls covered in ivy that had grown unchecked for centuries. There was an air of decay about the place, as though time had forgotten it entirely.

“This is it,” Tristan said quietly, his eyes scanning the structure for any sign of danger.

Ethan nodded, feeling the weight of what they were about to uncover pressing down on him. They had come seeking answers, but part of him feared what those answers might reveal.

As they approached the door, it creaked open slowly, as if someone—or something—had been waiting for them.