A cold wind rattled the narrow windows of Hazel's modest cottage as twilight deepened into night. Outside, the gentle sound of rain and the soft crackle of the hearth were the only companions in the dim room. Hazel sat near a low wooden table, holding the swaddled child meant for Khloe. Her mind was heavy with duty and old secrets; the weight of her family's past pressed on her like the chill in the air.
She had spent many long hours here, trying to piece together what must be done. The child in her arms was no ordinary baby—it was a symbol of their lost strength and a key to a future that was both dangerous and full of hope. But just as Hazel began to think about the next steps, the quiet was shattered by a sudden commotion at the doorway.
Before Hazel could even stand, a strong hand yanked the baby from her arms. The shock of the sudden loss made her gasp, and in an instant, she raised her staff, ready to strike. Her eyes narrowed in anger and hurt.
"Calm down, you angry kitten," came a familiar voice, so casual it almost mocked the moment.
Hazel froze. Stepping from the shadows in the doorway was a man whose presence filled the room. His ageless face showed both cruelty and kindness in equal measure, and though she had not seen him for decades, she recognized him immediately. His silver hair fell in gentle waves around sharp features, and his eyes shone with a mix of crimson and violet. He carried the rare aura of both a vampire and a witch—a powerful mix that time had not diminished.
"It's been seventy years, Hazel," he said with a slight smile that softened his stern look. "I will take the boy with me."
Hazel's grip on her staff tightened. "Shawn…" she whispered, hardly believing his voice. Seventy years had passed since they last met, yet now he stood before her as if no time had passed at all.
Shawn's smile grew a little warmer. "Yes, Hazel. I've come for the child. He is our blood. He is our future."
Hazel glared at him, trying to steady her shaking hands. "How did you find me after all these years? I thought I had hidden well enough."
Shawn stepped forward, his tone conversational. "I could smell your essence ever since Ella left the hideout. When she left, a void was left behind that only I could sense through our shared blood. I have not lost that gift."
Hazel folded her arms and looked away, her voice edged with disbelief and bitterness.
"Ella left me, and with her departure, our strength as a pair was broken. It seems you alone have managed to hold on to what made us formidable. Only you, Shawn, have maintained the power of our heritage without dilution."
Shawn stepped closer, lowering the swaddled child protectively against his chest. "Ella always wanted to live freely, without the restrictions. I learned to use our dual nature—vampire and witch—so that even if others fail, I remain whole. And I will take the boy, Hazel. I intend to erase his mortal scent—that mark of human blood which makes him vulnerable. He deserves the freedom that Ella always wished for."
Hazel's eyes widened in concern. "Erase his smell? How can you do that, Shawn? He has human blood, you know. Human blood does not mix easily with our magic. It can be unpredictable and dangerous when combined with our supernatural essence."
Shawn laughed softly—a sound that was light yet carried an unmistakable edge of danger. "That is where my art comes in. I will wrap his scent around every other blood—mine, yours, even that of the very earth—until his human nature is hidden beneath layers of our potent magic. Think of it as weaving a tapestry where every thread supports the next until no one can trace him back to his mortal origin."
He paused and looked into Hazel's eyes, his gaze steady. "I have spent these many years perfecting this technique. I can blend the essence of vampire night with the spark of witchfire, and even borrow a hint of werewolf instinct if needed. That is how I will make sure that no enemy, no matter how persistent, can ever track him by his scent."
Hazel shook her head slowly as she tried to process his words. "You have always been the bold one, Shawn. But this is dangerous. To tinker with blood like that, to mask a part of his nature, could have unforeseen consequences. What if you overdo it? What if the magic goes wrong?"
Shawn's smile turned wry as he folded the child closer to his chest. "I have no fear of consequences when it comes to protecting our own. Remember, Hazel, we are not like ordinary witches. Our blood is charged with ancient power. Yes, I may be reckless sometimes, but I also carry the wisdom of ages in my veins. I know exactly how to control this art of blood-weaving. Besides, if I succeed, the child will be hidden from those who wish to use him as a pawn. He will grow strong, and his potential will be ours alone—untainted by mortal weakness."
The room fell quiet as Hazel considered his words. She remembered the days when she and Ella had been inseparable, their combined magic making them nearly unstoppable. When Ella was around, they were more powerful together. But since Ella left, Hazel had felt her own strength wane, left to struggle on her own. Yet here was Shawn—their brother who had not only survived the passage of time but had grown even stronger, his resolve as firm as ever. That is the worst part of being a twin in supernatural realm you share everything.
"Shawn, I understand your desire to protect him," Hazel said slowly, her voice softening a little, "but you must realize that altering his blood is not a trivial matter. The human part of him is not a flaw—it is part of who he is. To erase it completely might strip him of the very qualities that make him unique. It might make him unrecognizable—even to himself."
Shawn's eyes darkened slightly as he spoke, his tone firm. "Unrecognizable to our enemies, Hazel, that is exactly what I intend. The world is changing, and threats come from both within and without. We cannot allow our future to remain vulnerable. If Kolta and her coven learn of his human scent, they will exploit it, use it to control him, or even eliminate him entirely. I will not let that happen."
Hazel sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at the small baby in Shawn's arms. "I always hoped that Ella would have kept our strength united, that we would never fracture apart in these troubled times. But now, with her gone, you bear our family's legacy alone. I worry for you, and for the child."
Shawn's expression softened as he met Hazel's concerned eyes. "I appreciate your worry, dear sister. But I have never been more certain of anything. I know what I must do, and I will do it. The child must be hidden, his blood woven with ours, until the day comes when he can be truly free—a day when he will wield his power not as a pawn, but as a ruler in his own right."
Hazel's tone turned both resigned and firm. "Then I trust you, Shawn. I trust that your methods, however unorthodox, will serve him well. But know this—I will always be watching over him too. If your magic falters or the balance is disturbed, I will not hesitate to step in."
A quiet smile played on Shawn's lips as he looked at Hazel. "I would expect nothing less, Hazel. We are bound by blood and by our shared past. Though our paths diverged, our destinies remain intertwined."
As they talked, the conversation turned from technical details to memories of the past. They recalled days long gone when Ella, the twin who had once anchored their power, had been by their side. They remembered the times when the two sisters—Hazel and Ella—had worked in unison, their magic amplifying each other, making them a force to be reckoned with. Since Ella's departure, Hazel had grown weak, but Shawn's power had only grown stronger.
"Ella would want him to live freely," Shawn said softly. And I will honor that wish. This child—our blood—will grow up knowing the strength of our lineage. He will be our hope, our secret, our future."
Hazel nodded slowly, though her eyes held both pride and worry. "I wish the world could see the beauty in our differences instead of exploiting them for power. But the court is filled with greed and corruption. It is better that the child remains hidden until the time is right."
Their voices grew softer, and for a moment, the only sounds were the patter of rain against the cottage walls and the low murmur of the crackling fire. The plan was set. The risk was high, but hope—fragile and flickering—burned in the space between them.
Then, suddenly, a noise came from outside—a soft clatter that sounded both unexpected and ominous. Hazel and Shawn exchanged a quick, worried glance.
"What was that?" Hazel asked quietly, rising from her seat to look out the window.
Shawn joined her, his hand still holding the child close. Through the rain-smeared glass, they could just make out shadowy figures moving near the garden gate. The figures were unclear, but their presence was undeniable—a reminder that danger was never far away, even in their secluded haven.
Hazel's voice was tense. "The barrier is very weak. Our enemies are closer than we thought."
Shawn's jaw set firmly. "I need to finish my work quickly then. The longer we delay, the higher the risk of discovery."
Hazel reached out and gently placed her hand on his arm. "Promise me, Shawn—promise me you will not let them take him, no matter what."
Shawn met her eyes with unwavering determination. "I promise, Hazel.
Hazel managed a small, bittersweet smile. "Then go before the night grows any darker. I will keep watch here."
Shawn nodded once and stepped toward the door, the baby pressed tightly against his chest. As he left into the stormy night, Hazel's thoughts turned to the uncertain future ahead—a future filled with rebellion, danger, and the promise of reclaimed power. By taking the child, Shawn was not only defying Khloe's orders but also setting in motion events that could alter the very fabric of their world. The balance between human, vampire, and witch was delicate, and with each passing moment, the stakes grew higher.
Before the sound of Shawn's footsteps faded into the rainy darkness, Hazel glanced once more out the window. In the gloom, she could just make out a solitary figure watching the cottage. The figure's intentions were unclear, but its presence was a chilling reminder that secrets never stay hidden for long.
Just as Hazel turned back to her plans, a low voice echoed from the darkness outside—a voice that was soft yet filled with an unmistakable threat. "We know where you hide, Hazel. And we will claim what is rightfully ours."
"Thank heavens they don't know about the child, they are here for the staff. "Noctis Aeternum", my mother's staff."
"Lily, let's get out of here quickly."