My gut twisted. The name, raw and desperate, had escaped my lips. "Krista?"
"Krista? Is it really you?" Christian's voice, usually a comforting rumble, was laced with an almost fearful awe. His eyes, fixed on her, were wide with disbelief.
My own mind screamed. "It's not possible," I murmured, the words barely audible, my entire being reeling from the impossible sight. She was here. After seventeen years of searching, of mourning, she was here.
"You came back. Why did you come back?" Christian pressed, taking a hesitant step closer to her. He lowered his voice, a hushed whisper that only a pureblood's keen hearing could catch. "It's not safe for you here."
"Don't worry. We'll protect you. We'll keep you safe," Jeremy added, his usual boisterousness muted by the sheer unreality of the moment. He reached out, taking her hand, a flicker of his old easygoing self.
But she snatched her hand back, pulling away from him as if his touch burned her. Her eyes, still wide and uncomprehending, swept over us all. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice raw, yet unwavering.
The question hit me like a physical blow, a cold, sharp blade to the gut. Christian flinched, his face paling. "What are you talking about? It's us. It's me, Christian," he pleaded, gesturing to himself.
"And it's Jeremy. Don't tell me you've forgotten us," Jeremy added, his hopeful tone quickly turning to disbelief.
"I don't know you. You have the wrong person," she declared, her gaze firm, unblinking. "My name is Annie. I just arrived in the capital with a friend."
The words shattered the fragile hope that had just bloomed within me. My friends were equally stunned, their expressions shifting from shock to confusion, then to dawning suspicion. Jeremy's face darkened further. "What? Are you playing games with us? Is this your idea of revenge?"
My heart ached, but my pureblood instincts, honed by years of ruling, took over.
"You're not Krista then?" I stated, my voice now devoid of the earlier surprise, replaced by a chilling calm.
"No. I am not," she affirmed, her gaze unwavering, despite the fear in her eyes.
"Alright. Take her away," I commanded, my voice flat, masking the raw anguish that tore at me.
Marcus, ever obedient, grabbed her by the collar again, pulling her towards the door. "What?!" she gasped, her eyes wide as she tried to pull away. "Let me go! What are you going to do to me?" she cried, her voice cracking.
"You're an outsider who came here in the middle of the night during curfew hours. What do you think we'd do?" I retorted, my voice cold, devoid of warmth, a true pureblood prince. The words were harsh, meant to intimidate, meant to push her away, to hide the turmoil beneath. "Lock her up."
My stomach clenched. Lock her up? After all these years, this was how our reunion would be? The thought was a searing brand, but her denial, her utter lack of recognition, was a wound deeper still. Before I could process the full implications of my own command, a flash of movement tore my attention away.
In a blur, Krista was freed from Marcus's grasp, shoved forward and shielded by a figure I hadn't seen enter the room. My eyes widened in disbelief. Standing before Krista, facing down a room full of purebloods, was a young man.
"What are you doing here? How did you find me?" Krista cried out, clearly astonished.
"You were acting strange that morning so I came back halfway on my way to school. I found your note and had been following your scent," he replied, his voice firm, unwavering.
"This is ridiculous. I clearly told you not to come."
"As if I'd let you come here unprotected." Then, with a guttural snarl that held a chilling echo of our own kind's ferocity, he turned to face us. His eyes, in that harsh light, gleamed with an unnerving, familiar intensity. "I dare you to touch her. Try it and I'll rip your throats out."
Chaos erupted. Marcus lunged first. The young man, impossibly fast, met him head-on. He parried a blow from Marcus, delivering a counter-punch with an unnatural force that sent the pureblood reeling. I watched, stunned, as he moved with a speed and strength that defied human limits. My mind reeled. What is he? How—
The room devolved into a maelstrom of furious growls, shattering glass, and splintering wood as Marcus and Jeremy engaged the defiant young man. Krista was caught in the middle, pushed and pulled by the fleeing humans.
"I told you already. Leave her alone or I'll kill you," the young man roared, his voice laced with absolute conviction. He was holding his own against two trained purebloods, but I could see the fresh bruises blooming on his face, a cut on his lip, scratches on his cheeks. His right arm hung awkwardly at his side. He was hurt, badly.
"You're hurt. That's enough. Just get out of here," Krista pleaded, trying to reach him.
"What? No! I'm not leaving you!" he snapped back, refusing to budge.
"Listen to me just this once, okay?" she hissed. "With your speed, you can definitely run away from here."
"You're obviously not a vampire," Jeremy stated, his eyes fixed on the fighting youth, a new, unsettling calculation in them. "A half-blood? How is a half-blood here? Moreover, marriage between vampires and humans isn't allowed. How are you alive?"
"There's only one answer. Some still ignore the law," Christian murmured, his gaze flicking to me.
My gaze was locked on the struggling boy. "You are an abomination," I stated, my voice dangerously low, my eyes narrowed on the boy, a storm brewing within me.
"I'll surrender. You can do anything you want with me, but let her go. She did nothing." The young man said.
"What are you saying? I'm not leaving you." Krista said.
"Aren't you two sweet?" I added, a sneer twisting my lips, though inside, a potent surge of jealousy and a primal possessiveness raged. What is their relationship? Is he... hers? "Why are you so willing to risk your life for each other? What's your relationship?"
"That's really none of your business, is it?" the young man shot back, unflustered despite his injuries, his eyes burning with an unyielding fire.
"It seems you really don't understand the situation you're in right now," Marcus said, his calm exterior almost chilling as he moved with impossible speed. In the blink of an eye, he was behind Krista, seizing her. "If you move, I'll kill her."
"What do you want?" Krista demanded, her voice shaking but still defiant as she courageously tried to turn and face Marcus. "If you want to kill us, then just do it already."
Marcus was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning her face, his grip unyielding. "You. Who are you, really? That face, that voice, that blunt personality. Krista. It's you, isn't it? Why did you come back? Why now?"
"I already told you, my name is Annie. I have no idea who Krista is, and I have no idea who you people are," she insisted with conviction, her voice gaining strength despite the threat. "You either kill us now or let us go."
"Are you that keen on dying?" Marcus challenged, tightening his grip on her arm.
Suddenly, with an enraged roar, Kilian launched himself at Marcus. The force of his blow sent Marcus flying across the room, hitting the concrete wall with a sickening thud that crumbled the stone. Marcus, ever resilient, straightened himself, but the calm, collected exterior he usually maintained was gone, replaced by an aggressive fury. Kilian had truly pissed him off.
"Marcus, stop," Christian commanded, his voice tight with suppressed rage, his gaze flicking from the raging Kilian to me. "Kai, what do we do with them?"
His words echoed in the sudden silence of the chaotic room. I saw Krista's eyes widen, her expression clouding with pain and confusion. She clutched her head, her knees buckling, and fell to the floor, groaning in agony.
"What is it?" Kilian cried, rushing to her side, his voice filled with raw worry.
"What's the matter?" Christian came to them, reaching out his hand. But Kilian stopped him, grabbing his wrist with surprising strength.
"I warned you already. Don't you dare lay a finger on my mother," Kilian growled, his gaze fixed on Christian, eyes blazing with an unholy red glow that only a few of us could fully comprehend.
"What did you say?" I demanded, my voice icy cold, my gaze snapping to Kilian, the meaning of his words hitting me with the force of a physical blow.
"She's my—" Kilian began, but his words were cut short. Krista, her body trembling, her eyes wide and unfocused, blacked out. She collapsed, falling unconscious into Kilian's arms.
My gaze was locked on her, then on him. Her son. My son. The silence that fell was heavy, broken only by my own ragged breathing. The past, the present, and an unthinkable future converged in that moment.
Christian was already at my side, his voice urgent. "We need to get her somewhere safe, Kai. She's in pain."
"My home," I commanded, my voice rough. "Bring them both to my home." There was no debate. This was Krista. And this was our son. Their fate was intertwined with mine now. We moved quickly, carefully transporting Krista, still unconscious, and a wary Kilian, who kept a protective arm around her even as his own injuries bled.