The evening air was thick with the scent of rain, though the sky had yet to open. Lisa sat in the Everhart estate's library, her fingers hovering over the old parchment her father had shown her. The ink was faded, the edges of the scroll crumbling with age, but the words were clear enough.
"And from the blood of the Forgotten King shall rise a successor, his fate bound to the Eternal Crown. His choice shall tip the scales of the realms—either into ruin or unity."
Lisa traced the symbol beneath the text—the same mark she had seen on Kol's chest, barely visible beneath his shirt the first time she had faced him in the academy halls. A shiver ran down her spine.
The world had forgotten the true Demon King. But Kol bore his mark.
Which meant the prophecy was real.
Her father's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Lisa."
She looked up, seeing Charles Everhart standing in the doorway. His expression was carefully controlled, but she could see the tension in his posture.
"What are you going to do now?" she asked quietly.
Her father exhaled, stepping into the room. "That depends on Kol Vaelros."
Lisa frowned. "You're afraid of him."
"I'm afraid of what he might become." Charles' voice was grim. "There is no power in this world that compares to the true Demon King's bloodline. Not witches, not hunters, not even the gods themselves."
Lisa stared at him. "Then why does no one remember him? If he was so powerful, why was his name erased?"
Her father hesitated, then sat across from her. "Because the world fears what it cannot control. And because there are forces that have spent centuries ensuring that history repeats itself, over and over again."
Lisa swallowed. "Then Kol is—"
"The next step in that cycle," Charles confirmed.
Lisa looked down at the scroll again. The heir of ruin or salvation.
And she had no idea which one he would choose.
---
Blackwood Academy – Midnight
Kol stood before the mirror in his dorm room, staring at the scarred flesh on his chest. The mark, burned over by his father's desperate attempt to hide it, was still faintly visible beneath the layers of old wounds.
He had always thought of it as a reminder of his past. A scar of survival.
Now, he wasn't so sure.
Lisa knew something. He had seen it in her eyes when they met in the hall earlier. And if she knew, then others would soon follow.
Kol exhaled sharply, pulling his shirt back on. He had spent years fighting to carve his own path, to be more than just a weapon forged in blood.
But fate had other plans.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
Kol turned, his senses sharpening. Whoever was on the other side wasn't a student.
He reached for the handle, opening the door just enough to see Jacob Draven standing in the dimly lit hallway.
Kol's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"
Jacob didn't move. "We need to talk."
Kol smirked. "Last time we talked, you tried to kill me."
Jacob's jaw clenched. "You should've stayed gone, Kol."
Kol leaned against the doorframe, his expression amused. "But then you wouldn't have anyone to hunt."
Jacob's glare darkened. "You think this is a game?"
Kol's smirk faded. "No. But I know what's coming, Jacob. And I don't think you do."
Jacob's eyes flickered, searching Kol's face for any deception. Then, after a moment, he exhaled sharply. "Meet me at the old church. An hour."
Kol tilted his head. "And if I don't?"
"Then the next time we see each other, I won't be talking."
Kol chuckled. "You never were good at small talk."
Jacob didn't react. He simply turned and walked away, disappearing down the hall.
Kol stood there for a long moment, his mind racing.
Jacob wouldn't have come to him unless something big was happening.
And that meant it was time to stop pretending he could outrun his past.
---
An Hour Later – The Old Church
The abandoned church sat on the outskirts of Blackwood, its stone walls cracked with age. The stained glass windows had long since shattered, leaving jagged edges that caught the moonlight.
Kol stepped inside, his boots echoing against the worn wooden floor. Jacob was already there, arms crossed, leaning against one of the broken pews.
"You're late," Jacob muttered.
Kol shrugged. "Didn't realize we were on a schedule."
Jacob pushed off the pew, his expression serious. "You know why I'm here."
Kol raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"
Jacob's eyes flashed. "Lisa knows what you are."
Kol's smirk didn't falter, but inside, something tightened. "And?"
Jacob stepped closer, his voice low. "Do you have any idea what happens if the witches find out? Or the hunters? You think they'll just let you walk around with the blood of the true Demon King in your veins?"
Kol chuckled darkly. "Let them try."
Jacob shook his head. "This isn't a fight you can win, Kol."
Kol's amusement faded. "I don't need to win. I just need to survive."
Jacob studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "And what about Lisa?"
Kol's expression finally shifted. Just enough for Jacob to see it.
"She's in danger now," Jacob continued. "If she's connected to you, they'll come for her too."
Kol clenched his fists. He knew Jacob was right.
Lisa had no idea what kind of forces were watching. Waiting.
And now, she was a part of this.
Kol turned toward the shattered window, his eyes distant.
"The prophecy," Jacob said behind him. "Do you believe in it?"
Kol didn't answer right away.
Then, quietly, he said, "I don't care about fate. I only care about those who stand in my way."
Jacob exhaled, shaking his head. "Then you'd better figure out who your enemies are. Because if you don't…"
Kol turned back to face him, his red eyes gleaming in the darkness.
"I already know."