Chapter Text
Prologue: eight hundred years ago
Oakhurst was silent and still, the streets deserted. An air of complete, primal fear hung over the houses, the sort only found in prey when a predator is near. The fog was charged with quiet anticipation of the ire of a monster, and he smiled without mirth that the ants under his feet understood their situation.
The pyre in the town square had long since been cleared away, a hastily abandoned marketplace arranged there instead.
How dare they. How dare they act like it never happened, act like she never burned, like they never killed her.
The Sire stood on the bridge that led to his newly constructed castle, hands folded behind his back as he glared out towards the village. He’d ordered the manor built over four years ago, and it had only just been completed.
If it had taken any longer, he would have suffocated in his Sire’s home. As it was, he’d bolted as soon as he’d heard news of its completion, uprooting his own brood and bringing them here as swiftly as he was able.
If he ever had to look his sister in the eyes again, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back.
Quiet footsteps padded on the stones behind him, and he didn’t have to turn his head to know who it was, her comforting scent unmistakable to him after so long.
The Mother came and stood beside him, her pink hair pulled back into a tight bun, not left flowing over her shoulders as it normally was. She didn’t look at him, her eyes downcast.
“...we can still leave. You don’t have to go through with this.”
“My childe, they killed her. Sweet, innocent, eun-seinn. We can’t let that go unpunished.”
“You slaughtered half of the town when it happened, five years ago. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“No.”
“You can’t even say her name,” the Mother whispered, grief crackling at the edges of her voice. “We all know it’s because you can’t touch Liana, because you can’t take revenge on her. It’s her fault, and the humans who helped her are dead. There is nothing, no closure you can find here.”
“You don’t understand these things, my childe. Go back to the nest and your family, I will join you soon.”
The Mother looked up at him, her gaze meeting his for the first time. “...she wouldn’t want you to do this. She never would have wanted this… this sickening, pointless revenge.”
“Oh, I suppose you’re going to say she’d hate me, next? I’ve heard this song before, childe.”
“She never hated anything. She couldn’t fathom that kind of pure anger. But she still never would have asked this of you, she would want you to be happy.”
“I’ll be happy when the price of her death is paid.” The Sire said cooly, still looking out over the village.
The Mother clenched her jaw, pressing her eyes shut with a look of complete pain. “...you’ve changed.”
“Maybe I was always like this.”
“No. No, you weren’t.” She looked up at him with a fierce hiss. “You saved me when I was a child. Turned me because I was desperate to see my daughter grow up, because I didn’t want to have to watch her die.”
“And because of that, you, your husband, and your daughter have faced prosecution and anger at the hands of my entire coven for almost four hundred years, which I knew would happen when I brought you into my brood.”
“You told us that! You told us that would happen, and we made the choice ourselves.”
“...I still should have known better. The codes are there for a reason. I should have followed them.”
Protect the fledglings. Ensure the survival of the coven. You know better than humans and the young. Act in your best interest first, then that of the individual.
Never show weakness.
“The codes?” The Mother laughed incredulously, shaking her head. “The codes that you swore up and down you would never follow? The codes that you were known for rejecting?” She glanced at him again before looking away sadly. “You really aren’t the man I once knew.”
“That man burned with her, on that pyre. This town is going to pay if it’s the last thing I do, childe.”
“...very well. It’s not like I have the power to stop you. Just, please… try to remember her. Not the mirror, the reflection that you seem to have in your head. The real her, the girl all of us loved. As you seek out this twisted vengeance, remember her.”
“How could I ever forget?”
Present day
The castle was… quiet.
Scott hated to admit it, but it was strange and unnerving. The castle had never been loud, but there had been whispers in corners and signs of inhabitants everywhere you looked - a discarded bottle, a cloak hung over a chair. Little pebbles in the courtyard from some game, a book and quill on the table. You could turn a corner and someone would be there.
Now…
Two were gone and yet, it somehow felt like more than that.
Scott passed through the dining hall, looking over the beacon and their defenses with a cursory eye. The humans had gotten… cocky. Annoyingly, it seemed to be working at least a little, with his forces so thinned.
They weren’t just numbers in a battle
Scott glanced over the ballroom as he passed, jumping a little when he saw Shelby. She was curled up against the far wall of the room, staring listlessly into the blood fountain across from her.
He moved over to crouch beside her, reaching over and cupping her cheek. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks and clothes stained red with so much blood that he would’ve thought her to have come from a fight if he didn’t know better.
He hadn’t seen her outside of her room in a full day.
Not since…
Not since they’d buried them.
Scott’s neck ached behind his ear, and he blinked, turning his attention back to her.
“Shelby…” he murmured, brushing his thumbs just under her eyes. Eyes that were now amber again, framed with hair that had regained much more of its reddish hue. “Have you been eating at all?”
She looked down, eyes hollow. “No,” she said, voice slightly raspy. “What’s the point? I’ll cry it all out again.”
“If you don’t eat you’ll be vulnerable,” Scott said, frowning slightly. “You’ll go feral, become an easy target.”
Shelby shrugged, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. “I don’t want to waste blood. I’ll be fine.”
Scott looked at her, something twisting in his gut. She looked wrong. Not just the blood streaking her skin, but something deeply different in her eyes.
Something broken.
Scott stood, walking to the blood stores and pulling out a handful of bottles.
Pyro had gathered these, before…
There was no point letting good food go to waste.
Scott took them back to the ballroom, kneeling next to Shelby again. She hadn’t moved at all - not strange for vampires, but he had never seen her so still. She was always moving; a hand waving through the air, leg bouncing, ears twitching.
Scott pressed his lips together, holding out the bottle of blood to her.
“Drink,” he said, taking her wrist and folding her hand over the bottle. “Please, Shelby. For me.”
Shelby turned her head away, letting her hand fall from the bottle. “I don’t want it, Scott.”
“Shelby–” Scott took her shoulder, pulling her to face him. “Don’t make me force you.”
She stared back at him, eyes that once sparkled so beautifully now dull. “I’m not going to eat. I’m not hungry.”
Vampires were always hungry.
Scott sighed, uncorking the bottle and holding it to her lips, putting his other hand back on her shoulder. “Drink it, Shelby. I’m not asking again, and I will fight you. I don’t want to, but I will.”
She glared at him over the rim of the bottle, amber eyes fierce and angry. She hesitated for a moment, only opening her mouth and drinking slowly when his hand tightened ever-so-slightly on her shoulder. Scott held the bottle there until it was empty, and raised another.
“No more,” Shelby said, pushing it away with weak arms. “I don’t need it.”
“...Shelby. Please be reasonable,” Scott said, lowering the bottle and taking her hands. “I know you’re sad. But you need to eat.”
“Sad?” Shelby yanked her hands away from Scott, her shoulders clenching in. “Sad doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling. I’ve lost three people, Scott. They’re dead.” she choked slightly, blood welling in the corners of her eyes again.
“Ah–” Scott reached out, wiping the blood from her eyes. “You just ate…”
“I told you it was pointless,” Shelby snapped, pulling away from him and pushing to her feet. “I know you didn’t care about them like I did, so don’t pretend to understand.”
“I did care about them,” Scott protested, reaching out to steady her when she wobbled on her feet, pressing a hand to her head. “I care about you.”
Weakling.
“Only in the way that a vampire cares for its responsibilities,” Shelby pulled away from him again, moving towards the door. “And that was only for Pyro and Avid. You didn’t give a shit whether Pearl lived or died, and don’t deny it. I loved all of them, and I don’t think you have it in your heart anymore to love.”
Soft.
Scott just sat there, bottles scattered on the floor around him as Shelby spoke, her voice rising to an almost-yell.
“I’m going to my room,” she said, furiously scrubbing a hand over her eyes. “And you can’t come in.”
Scott watched her go, knowing better than to waste his words on someone that so clearly wasn’t going to listen.
He hadn’t realised just how much she cared for them all. Her closeness to Legundo’s coven in general was odd. The bond between her and Avid was clear; she’d taken to a sire’s role like a duck to water, but that she still cared about Pyro after everything was… odd.
Though when he really thought about it, the fact that it surprised him probably wasn’t a good thing.
Scott groaned, leaning his head against the wall.
I don’t think you have it in your heart anymore to love.
Stop caring so much.
Scott rubbed his neck, the aching pains that had been coming from his scent glands for the last day coming back with a vengeance.
That… had he loved...?
Weakling.
Scott shook his head, standing abruptly and gathering the blood bottles by his feet. He needed to hunt; they were running low on food, and it would give Shelby enough time to calm down before he tried to feed her again.
He pushed down the niggling twinges in his gut at having to force feed her as he downed a bottle before shifting into his bat form, winging over the castle walls and into the forest.
He was only doing his duty to her.
He would not let her die.
No one else would die.