The grand chamber of the Vampire Council was carved from black marble and old magic.
The air was cold enough to still breath itself - heavy with incense and centuries of authority.
Around the obsidian table, the Elders sat - twelve of them, each older than empires, their eyes like sharpened glass.
For the first time in a millennium, the Supreme's seat stood empty.
Elder Cassiel's voice broke the silence, smooth as poisoned wine.
"He isolates himself again. The world burns and the Supreme hides in his tower."
Another elder hissed, fangs flashing in irritation.
"You question his command?"
Cassiel's gaze flicked upward, unbothered.
"I question his absence. Our kind are dying. Those creatures- abominations of claw and venom - tear through our lines, and he offers silence in return."
The hall rippled with uneasy murmurs. Shadows moved like nervous breath across the stone floor.
Elder Seraphine leaned forward, her voice a silken warning.
"Do not mistake patience for neglect. He is still the First Blood."
"Then let him act like one!" Cassiel snapped. "We've lost six clans in the northern hemisphere. The creatures grow bolder. They hunt both vampire and wolf - but only we bleed for it."
The word wolf turned the room colder.
Someone whispered, "The Guardian..."
The name hung in the air like a curse.
Every elder stilled.
"If the Guardian truly walks again," Seraphine said softly, "the balance has shifted. The wolves will rise. You all remember what happens when the blood of the moon burns."
A low rumble of unease.
"Their bite alone kills us," Cassiel growled. "But the Guardian- he can end us. His power burns through our kind like daylight."
No one spoke the other fear aloud:
that the Supreme had already found him.
That he was protecting him.
And in the shadows above the council, the old wards trembled faintly - like the world itself shivering before a storm.
---
Across the continent, under the silver of another moon -
The wolves gathered.
The Alpha Hall was carved from mountain stone, its vast windows open to the howling wind.
Alphas from every region - north, south, east - stood around the fire pit, their tempers as hot as the flames.
"We can't keep running from these things!" one Alpha roared. "They slaughtered my pack in their sleep!"
"And where is the Council of Elders?" another spat. "They hide behind their silver laws while our kin die!"
Alpha Kazen, his shoulder still bandaged from the Blue Moon attack, raised a hand.
His voice was rough, but steady.
"Enough. The bloodshed won't stop with anger."
The room quieted.
"I saw him," Kazen said. "The Guardian. He came when we were dying. His light burned through those creatures like the moon itself descended."
Disbelief rippled through the room.
"You saw the Guardian?" someone demanded.
"Impossible- he's a myth."
"No wolf could carry that power."
Kazen met their eyes, unflinching.
"He exists. I felt it in my bones. And if he walks this earth again, it means the war between Blood and Moon will rise with him."
Silence fell, heavy and hungry.
Then a younger Alpha murmured what they all were thinking:
"Then we find him. Before they do. Before the vampires claim him for themselves."
A rumble of agreement followed - the sound of wolves smelling destiny.
"The Guardian will be ours," Kazen declared, voice echoing like thunder. "We'll crown him our king - the Moonblood's true heir."
Outside, the moon bled red against the clouds.
And far away, in the highest tower of Hirunkit Holdings, Nani stirred - his eyes opening, gold flickering with ancient awareness.
He didn't yet know why the night felt heavier.
But the world had started to move against him again.
---
The council chamber had long gone silent.
Night had fallen deep across the city, its lights pulsing like veins beneath glass towers.
In the Supreme's office - a place that felt more like a sanctum than a room - William stood near the window, reports in hand.
Below them, the city hummed with human life; above, the air was thick with magic.
"You've gone quiet," William said after a moment, voice even. "You heard everything."
Nani didn't turn. The reflection of the skyline burned in his golden eyes - too still, too calm.
"Let them talk. Their fear is predictable."
William approached, laying a folder on the desk.
"Felix sent word. His coven's investigations align with our data. Those creatures - the ones attacking both packs and clans - aren't born of witchcraft or science."
He hesitated, measuring his words.
"They were summoned."
That made Nani's eyes lift - just a fraction.
"By what?"
William opened the folder. Inside were sketches and photos - charred remains, clawed sigils, a single smear of tar-black blood.
"By something we thought extinct. A demon clan, ancient - predating both Blood and Moon. The Mara."
The word itself seemed to drain the air from the room.
Nani's gaze darkened, unreadable. "Impossible. The Mara were erased before the first throne rose."
William nodded slowly. "So history claims. But Felix swears the venom used on Sky carries the same dark resonance - something older than either of us. The Mara's blood was said to be black as night and poisonous to the soul itself."
"The Mara ruled before the Blood and Moon," William continued quietly. "And it was they who cursed us. Blood shall never mix with Moon, lest the world burn again."
For a moment, the Supreme said nothing.
Then - softly, too softly -
"Curses are born from truth. Someone once broke that law."
William looked up, startled by the tone. It wasn't curiosity. It was memory.
"If the Mara truly survived," William said, steadying himself, "they'll want revenge. They'll want to resurrect their King."
"And to ensure the curse never ends," Nani murmured.
He turned toward the glass wall, the city reflected like fractured stars across his face.
There was something haunted in his expression - as if the very name Mara had stirred something buried far too deep.
Then it hit him.
A pulse.
Hot. Sharp. Familiar.
The mark at the base of his own neck flared - gold veining through pale skin like fire through glass.
Nani staggered a step, his hand gripping the edge of the desk.
His breath hissed out through clenched teeth.
William froze. "My lord?"
"He's using it," Nani ground out, voice low, guttural - not in pain, but in recognition.
"The Guardian's power."
He could feel it - the surge of moonfire, wild and ancient, echoing through the bond that tethered their fates.
It burned through him like a brand, carrying rage, fear, and something heartbreakingly familiar.
For a split second, Nani saw flashes behind his eyes - silver light, a burning forest, a voice calling his name through centuries.
He straightened slowly, jaw tight. His aura rolled off him like a storm, rattling the glass panes.
"Where?" he demanded.
William closed his eyes briefly, sensing through the wards.
"Eastern sector. Near the old district."
The room trembled.
Not from any wind - but from him.
Nani's hand pressed flat against the glass wall, his reflection fractured across the city lights. The gold veins beneath his skin blazed, crawling up his throat like fire trying to escape.
William didn't need to ask again. He could feel it too - the echo of the Guardian's power flaring like a second moon above the city.
But only Nani felt the pain of it.
"He's doing it again," Nani said, voice low, threaded with something dangerous. "The fool."
The desk cracked under his grip, the air rippling with restrained fury. His aura darkened - elegant power curdling into something older, sharper, closer to what he used to be.
"If he keeps using that light," William said carefully, "it won't stay hidden for long."
Nani turned to him, eyes bright as molten gold. "Hidden? There's no hiding that power. Every elder, every clan head - they'll smell it before dawn."
He stepped away from the window, the hem of his coat whispering over marble like smoke.
"They'll know the Guardian lives. And once they do, they'll hunt him - like they always have."
The way he said it - they always have - made William pause.
It wasn't the first time Nani had spoken those words.
"Then what do you want done, my lord?"
Nani's gaze sharpened toward the horizon, where he could still feel the pulse - that silver heartbeat beneath his own. His anger fractured into something heavier, rawer.
"He hasn't changed," he said quietly. "No matter what life he takes, that heart of his... still too soft. Still too willing to bleed for others."
William's expression flickered - pity, maybe, or recognition. "You've seen this before."
"I've lived it," Nani murmured. "Over and over. And every time, it ends with his blood on my hands."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then Nani straightened, the shift subtle but absolute - the calm of the Supreme settling like a mantle.
"Double the wards," he commanded. "Seal the district where he's using his power. I don't want a single clan dog sniffing near that place."
William nodded once. "Yes, my lord."
"And send no guards," Nani added, his tone cutting like glass. "If they see him, they'll know."
William hesitated. "You'll go?"
The Supreme didn't smile.
The lights in the room flickered, bending toward him as if drawn by a gravitational pull.
When he stepped forward, the air shimmered - shadows folding inward around his body, golden sigils spiraling through the dark like fireflies caught in ink.
"He won't stop until he's broken," Nani said softly, more to himself. "So I'll find him before the world does."
Then, without a sound, he vanished - leaving behind the faint scent of roses and lightning, and the echo of his words lingering in the stillness.
William exhaled, tension fading only slightly. He turned toward the window, where moonlight bled across the city.
"The Guardian burns again," he murmured. "And the Supreme walks into the storm."