Six months.
One hundred and eighty-three days since the battle in the valley. One hundred and eighty-three days of building, healing, growing. One hundred and eighty-three days of peace—fragile, tentative, precious peace.
The Dawn Coalition had become something more than I'd ever imagined.
Our stronghold in the Carpathians had expanded into a true community—chambers carved from the mountain, tunnels connecting living spaces to training grounds to the great hall where we gathered each evening. Hybrids from across the world had found their way to us, drawn by rumors of a safe haven. Twenty-three survivors had become forty-seven, then sixty-two, then nearly a hundred.
Guardians came too—Elena's people, the ones who'd protected hybrids in secret for millennia. They brought knowledge, skills, and a fierce dedication to our cause. Some stayed to train our young; others returned to the wider world, watching for threats, building networks of information and support.
Even vampires joined us. Not many—the old prejudices died hard—but a few. Those who'd grown weary of the Volturi's control, who'd seen too much suffering and wanted something different. They worked alongside hybrids and guardians, building something new. Something unprecedented.
And at the center of it all stood three sisters.
Eleanor. Mira. Cassandra.
The titles had come slowly, then all at once. "The Triumvirate," some called us. "The Three Queens." I hated it—hated the weight of it, the responsibility, the way people looked at me like I had answers to questions I'd barely begun to understand.
But I couldn't deny that things had changed.
"You're brooding again."
Edward's voice came from behind me, soft and amused. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, his cold body pressing against my back.
"I'm not brooding. I'm... thinking."
"About?"
I gestured at the great hall below us, where hybrids and guardians and vampires mingled in the evening light. Laughter rose from a group of young ones playing in the corner. An elder told stories to a rapt audience. Two vampires sparred gently with a guardian, trading techniques across ancient divides.
"Look at them," I whispered. "They came here because of us. Because of me. They trust us to keep them safe, to lead them, to build a future they can believe in. And I don't know if I'm enough."
Edward turned me to face him, his golden eyes searching mine. "Do you remember what you told me once? About love being a choice we make every day?"
"Of course."
"It's the same with leadership." He brushed a strand of hair from my face. "You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to have all the answers. You just have to show up, every day, and choose to be there for them. That's what they need. That's what you give them."
"But what if I make the wrong choice? What if I lead them into disaster?"
"Then we'll face it together." He kissed my forehead. "That's what family does."
I leaned into him, drawing strength from his presence. He was right—he was always right. But the weight of crowns still pressed down on my shoulders, heavy as stone.
The council meeting that evening was tense.
We gathered in the war room—Mira, Cassandra, and me; Darius and Lydia; Carlisle and Elena; representatives from the hybrids, guardians, and vampires who'd joined us. Maps covered the table, marked with locations of interest: Volturi movements, suspected Ancient agents, rumors of a new threat forming in the East.
"We've had reports from three different sources," Mira said, her voice steady despite the gravity of her words. "Something's happening in the Balkans. Hybrids disappearing. Vampires found dead—drained, the way the Architects used to do."
"Could be remnants of the Ancients," Darius suggested. "We didn't destroy all of them in the valley."
"Maybe." Cassandra's eyes were distant, accessing memories through the bond. "But it feels different. The Ancients were methodical, predictable in their cruelty. This is... chaotic. Random. Like someone's hunting for sport."
"Hunters," Lydia murmured. "There are vampires who make a living tracking and killing hybrids. Bounty hunters, essentially. They've existed for centuries."
"Why haven't we heard of them before?"
"Because they operate in the shadows. They're not organized like the Architects or the Ancients—they're individuals, small groups, working for whoever pays the most." Lydia's ancient eyes were grim. "And someone's paying them a lot."
"Who?"
"That's what we need to find out."
The next morning, I made a decision.
"I'm going to the Balkans," I announced at breakfast. Mira and Cassandra looked up from their meals, identical expressions of concern on their faces.
"Alone?" Mira asked.
"With Edward. And a small team—Jasper, if he's well enough; maybe two or three others. We need to see what's happening for ourselves."
"That's dangerous." Cassandra's voice was sharp. "If there are hunters in the region—"
"Then we'll deal with them." I met her eyes steadily. "I'm not going to sit here while our people are being hunted. We're the leaders of this coalition. That means we lead—not just from safety, but from the front."
Mira was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"Take Kaelen with you. He knows the region—he traveled through it before finding the sanctuary. And he's earned the right to fight."
"And Lyra?"
"Lyra stays here. She's still healing." Mira's voice softened. "Kaelen needs to do this. For himself, as much as for us."
I looked at Cassandra, who nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But you check in every night. And if anything goes wrong—"
"I know. Run, don't fight. Call for backup. Don't be a hero." I smiled. "You've trained me well."
Cassandra laughed despite herself. "Someone has to keep you alive."
We left at dusk—Edward, Jasper, Kaelen, and me.
Jasper was still recovering from his wounds, but he'd insisted on coming. "You need someone who can read emotions," he'd said. "The hunters will be good at hiding. I can find them anyway."
Kaelen was quiet as we traveled, his amber eyes scanning the darkness with a vigilance that spoke of old wounds. He'd lost everyone in the sanctuary attack—everyone except Lyra. And now he was returning to the region where it happened, where his family died.
"You don't have to do this," I said quietly, as we paused to rest. "If it's too much—"
"It's not too much." His voice was firm. "It's necessary. Those hunters—they're the same kind of people who attacked the sanctuary. The same kind who killed my family. I need to face them. Need to prove to myself that I can."
"You've already proven yourself, Kaelen. You survived. You found us. You helped us win."
"Surviving isn't the same as living." He met my eyes, and in them I saw a depth of pain that made my heart ache. "Lyra—she looks at me like I'm a hero. Like I saved her. But I didn't. I ran. I hid. I let everyone die while I—" He stopped, his jaw tightening.
"You loved her." I took his hand. "You loved her, and you wanted to protect her. That's not weakness, Kaelen. That's humanity. That's what makes you different from the monsters we're hunting."
He stared at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Thank you," he whispered. "For believing in me."
"Always." I squeezed his hand. "That's what family does."
The Balkans were beautiful in a harsh, ancient way.
Mountains rose against the sky like sleeping giants, their slopes covered in forests that had stood since before recorded history. Villages clung to valleys, their stone buildings centuries old. The air smelled of pine and snow and something else—something old and wild that made my hybrid senses sing.
We traveled by night, using the darkness to hide our movements. Kaelen led us through passes known only to locals, across bridges that swayed over bottomless gorges, past ruins that predated the Roman Empire.
"Here," he said on the third night, stopping at the edge of a clearing. "This is where they found us. The sanctuary was just beyond those trees."
I looked at the clearing—peaceful now, covered in snow, marked only by a small stone monument someone had erected. A memorial to the dead.
"Do you want to—" I started.
"No." His voice was firm. "Not yet. First we find the hunters. Then I'll mourn."
Edward's hand found mine, and I felt his pride in the young hybrid through our bond. Kaelen had grown so much since we'd found him—from broken survivor to determined fighter. He was becoming someone extraordinary.
We found the hunters on the fifth night.
Jasper sensed them first—a cluster of cold, hungry emotions in a valley to the north. "Four of them," he murmured. "Vampires, all old. They're hunting—I can feel their anticipation."
"How do we approach?" Edward asked.
"Carefully. They're experienced—they'll have traps, alarms, escape routes." Jasper's eyes were distant, reading the emotional currents. "But they don't know we're here. That's our advantage."
We moved through the forest like shadows, surrounding the hunters' camp. They'd made themselves comfortable—a small fire, bedrolls, supplies. They clearly didn't expect company.
"Now," Jasper whispered.
We struck as one.
The hunters were good—better than we'd expected. They reacted instantly, their ancient combat skills engaging before they were fully awake. But we were faster, stronger, more determined. Within minutes, three of them were down, disabled but alive.
The fourth ran.
Kaelen was after him before I could react, his hybrid speed carrying him through the forest in pursuit. I followed, Edward close behind, but Kaelen had a head start and a fury I couldn't match.
When we caught up, he had the hunter pinned against a tree, his hand around the vampire's throat.
"Please," the hunter gasped. "Please, I'll tell you anything—"
"Who hired you?" Kaelen's voice was cold, deadly. "Who's paying you to hunt hybrids?"
"I don't know—we never met them—they communicated through intermediaries—"
"Then what do you know?" Kaelen's grip tightened. "Tell me something useful, or I'll—"
"The Blood Moon!" The hunter's eyes were wide with terror. "They mentioned the Blood Moon! Said it was rising again, that the time was coming, that they needed hybrids for—for—"
"For what?"
"I don't know! I swear, I don't know!" The hunter's voice broke. "They just said to bring them alive. Said there was a ritual, a sacrifice, something about the Blood Moon—"
Kaelen's hand tightened, and the hunter went still.
I approached slowly, placing my hand on Kaelen's arm. "Hey. It's over. You did it."
He turned to look at me, and in his eyes I saw a storm of emotions—rage, grief, relief, fear.
"They mentioned the Blood Moon," he whispered. "The same thing that attacked the sanctuary. It's happening again."
"I know." I pulled him into a hug, holding him tight. "But we're going to stop it. Together."
We returned to the camp to find the other hunters bound and guarded by Jasper and Edward. They'd been questioned thoroughly, their answers matching the first's.
"The Blood Moon," Jasper said grimly. "It's not just a name—it's a prophecy. An ancient one, older than the Ancients. It speaks of a time when the moon will turn red and the veil between worlds will thin, allowing something to cross over."
"Something?"
"They didn't know what. Just that it needs hybrid blood to complete the crossing. Lots of it." Jasper's eyes met mine. "That's why they've been hunting. That's why the sanctuaries were attacked. Someone—something—is planning a mass sacrifice at the next Blood Moon."
"When is that?"
"Three months. Maybe less." Jasper's voice was grim. "And if they succeed—"
"They won't." I looked at my team—tired but determined, battered but unbroken. "We're going to stop them. Whatever it takes."
We left the hunters bound for the Volturi to collect—Aro would want to question them further. Then we headed home, our mission complete but a new one already forming.
The Blood Moon was rising. And we had to be ready.
The stronghold welcomed us back with relief and joy. Mira and Cassandra embraced me tightly, their bond with me singing with love and concern. Lyra flew into Kaelen's arms, holding him like she'd never let go.
But there was no time to rest.
We gathered in the war room, sharing what we'd learned. The council listened in growing horror as we described the prophecy, the sacrifices, the looming threat.
"Three months," Darius murmured. "That's not long."
"It's enough." I looked at my family—my sisters, my love, my friends. "We've faced worse odds and won. We'll do it again."
"How?" Rosalie's voice was sharp. "We don't even know what we're facing."
"Then we find out." Cassandra's eyes were distant, already reaching for the Archive. "There are memories—ancient ones—that might hold answers. I'll find them."
"And the rest of us?" Emmett asked.
"We prepare." I stood, my voice carrying through the room. "We train, we gather allies, we build our strength. And when the Blood Moon rises, we'll be ready."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the council. I felt Edward's hand find mine, felt Mira and Cassandra's presence through the bond, felt the love of my family surrounding me like a shield.
Whatever was coming, we would face it together.
And we would win.
End of Chapter Seven