---
From the shadows, a Lycan emerged.
Its golden eyes gleamed with predatory hunger, its lips curled back over dagger-like fangs.
For a moment, time slowed.
Then—
The Lycan lunged.
Natalia's instincts kicked in. She dodged—barely. Its claws sliced the air where her throat had been a second before. Her heart slammed against her ribs, fear clawing at her insides.
The Lycan snarled, spinning around. Its massive body coiled, ready to spring again.
Natalia moved.
She darted behind a pillar, breath hitching as the beast closed in. Its claws scraped against stone, the screeching sound sending a chill down her spine.
Her mind raced.
Think, think, THINK!
Her eyes landed on a wooden chair a few feet away. Sturdy. Heavy.
A weapon.
Without hesitation, she grabbed it.
Her fingers wrapped around the solid wood, muscles tensing.
The Lycan lunged again.
Natalia turned, swinging the chair with everything she had.
---
With a fierce cry, Natalia charged at the Lycan, swinging the chair with all her might.
CRACK!
The wood splintered against the beast's head, the force of the blow making it stumble back. But it didn't stay down for long.
A low, guttural snarl rumbled from its throat as it snapped its glowing yellow eyes toward her—feral, locked in, enraged.
Before she could react, the Lycan lunged.
Its massive claws wrapped around her throat, lifting her off the ground with terrifying ease. Natalia's legs kicked wildly, her fingers clawing at its grip, but the hold was ironclad.
Her lungs burned. Her vision blurred.
A choked gasp barely escaped her lips as the edges of her world darkened.
And then—
A blur of motion. A flash of silver.
Before Natalia could register what was happening, the Lycan was gone, its massive body slammed into a wall so hard the stone splintered.
She collapsed onto the floor, gasping, coughing, hands flying to her throat as she sucked in air.
Above her, a shadow moved.
Olga.
Her sister stood between her and the Lycan,
---
Olga reached behind her dress, fingers curling around the hilts of her twin daggers. With a swift motion, she unsheathed them, the blades glinting coldly in the dim light.
The Lycan snarled and charged, its massive form a blur of muscle and fury.
Olga didn't flinch.
She met it head-on, her blades clashing against its claws in a whirlwind of steel and snarls. The fight was brutal—a deadly dance of speed and strength. Sparks flew as dagger met claw, each strike calculated, every movement precise.
The Lycan lashed out, swiping at her with razor-sharp talons. Olga ducked, twisting low before striking—her dagger slicing deep into the beast's side.
A howl of pain. Spray of blood.
The Lycan stumbled back, collapsing against the cold stone floor, its breath ragged. Olga's chest heaved, but she didn't lower her weapons. Not yet.
Then—
"Olga, help!"
Olga's head snapped toward her sisters. Natalia was struggling, desperately trying to free Tatiana, whose leg was still lodged in the narrow passage. Blood and dust stained her face, her hands trembling as she yanked at the debris.
Before Olga could move—
A monstrous grip yanked Natalia from behind.
A strangled scream tore from Natalia's throat as the Lycan hoisted her into the air, its claws pressing into her ribs like iron shackles.
Olga didn't hesitate.
With blinding speed, she lunged, daggers flashing. Her blade sank deep into the Lycan's back, severing muscle, tendon, and bone.
The beast let out a piercing yelp, its body jerking violently before its claws finally slackened. Natalia collapsed forward, gasping for breath.
But before Olga could reach her—
Another Lycan appeared.
Great timing..
It moved too fast, its claws already grasping for Natalia. Olga whirled to intercept—
And then she felt it.
A hand—cold, steady—gripped her wrist from behind.
Then came the burn.
A dark, pulsing liquid poured over her skin.
The Malovis.
Agony seared through her veins, her skin cracking, splitting like parched earth. A strangled cry tore from her lips as the potion sank into her flesh.
Blood seeped from her eyes, her body shuddering violently.
She tried to move—tried to fight—but her strength was draining fast. The daggers slipped from her hands, clattering against the stone floor as her knees buckled beneath her.
"No! Olga, no!"
Natalia and Tatiana's screams ripped through the air, their voices thick with terror and anguish.
But Olga couldn't answer.
Her world was fracturing, slipping into a darkness she couldn't escape.
---
Tatiana, still stuck in the narrow opening, turned to Natalia with desperate, wide eyes.
"What are you looking at? Help me!" she cried, her voice shaking with panic.
Natalia snapped out of her daze, rushing forward. She gripped Tatiana's arms, yanking her as hard as she could. With one final push and a sharp tug, Tatiana's leg came free, sending them both stumbling backward.
"Run, Tatiana! Run!" Natalia yelled, her voice hoarse with urgency.
Tatiana hesitated for a split second, her instincts warring with her heart. But before she could react, a powerful hand clamped around Natalia's ankle.
A gasp tore from Natalia's lips as she was yanked off her feet, her body slamming against the stone floor. The impact sent a jolt of pain up her spine, her skin scraping against the jagged surface.
The Lycan loomed over her, its lips pulling back in a vicious snarl. Without hesitation, it hoisted her up by the leg, slinging her over its broad shoulder like she weighed nothing.
"No!" Tatiana screamed, reaching out, but the beast was already moving. Natalia thrashed, pounded against its back, kicked with all the strength she had left—but it was useless. The Lycan's grip was ironclad.
Tatiana's vision blurred with tears as she watched the creature disappear down the corridor, carrying Natalia away into the darkness.
The battle raged on around her, but in that moment, all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat.
---
The Lycan's heavy footsteps echoed through the grand staircase as he ascended, Natalia slung over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. Blood roared in her ears, drowning out the distant sounds of battle. She thrashed, her fists pounding against his back, her nails clawing at his fur-covered skin. But he didn't flinch. His grip on her legs only tightened, his claws digging in like steel traps.
The higher they climbed, the more desperate she became. The castle doors were in sight—her last chance. She twisted her body and, without thinking, sank her teeth deep into his shoulder.
The Lycan let out a sharp snarl, jerking sideways from the unexpected pain. His grip faltered just enough—just enough for her to slip free.
She hit the ground hard, her palms scraping against the cold marble. Pain shot up her arms, but she didn't stop.
She ran.
Bare feet pounding against the stairs, she pushed forward, her chest burning with every breath. Faster. Faster.
She could hear the Lycan recovering, the thud of his steps closing in behind her.
A hand snatched her hair from behind and yanked her back.
Natalia let out a strangled scream, her scalp burning as she was dragged off her feet. Her body slammed into the steps, and before she could fight back—
CRACK.
The Lycan's claws struck her across the face, sending her sprawling. White-hot pain exploded through her skull, a deep, searing cut slicing from her temple to her chin.
Her vision blurred. The world tilted.
Warm blood trickled down her cheek, the metallic taste filling her mouth.
She barely registered the Lycan crouching over her, his yellow eyes gleaming with triumph. Her body trembled, her limbs suddenly too heavy, too weak to move.
Natalia blinked sluggishly, the world fading around her.
---
Natalia felt despair wash over her like a tidal wave, suffocating, drowning her.
She was helpless. Weak. Useless.
The pain and fear twisted in her mind, a toxic storm swallowing every last bit of hope.
"I'm not a vampire," she whispered to herself, the words barely escaping her lips.
"I'm not them. I'm not Anastasia. I'm not Father. I'm not Mother. I'm not Olga. I'm not Tatiana. I'm not Nikolai. I'm not Clarke. I'm me and weak."
The Lycan's grip on her tightened. A low growl rumbled through his chest as he hoisted her over his shoulder once more.
Natalia didn't resist.
Her body went numb, her mind shutting down.
What was the point?
As they reached the top of the staircase, the scene before her blurred through the haze of pain.
Then she saw them.
Her father. Her mother. Their faces frozen in horror.
Her brother. Her sister. Clarke. Their faces frozen in time.
Neil's eyes lit up at the sight of her, a wicked smile creeping across his face. But he hadn't seen her face yet.
"Ah, she's here," he purred, his voice like poison.
King Viktor took one look at Natalia's limp body, at the blood dripping down her face, and something inside him snapped.
"NO!" he thundered, his voice shaking the palace walls.
Queen Irina lunged forward, her hands reaching for her daughter, but Viktor grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
She sobbed against his chest, her cries raw, broken. "Please," she begged. "Please, don't take her."
Viktor's voice was sharp, edged with fury and fear. "What do you need her for?"
Natalia barely processed the words. She couldn't lift her head. Her hair fell forward, shielding her face from view as the Lycan's grip on her shifted.
The pain. The fear. It was too much.
The world tilted, spun, darkened.
Viktor's voice became distant. Irina's sobs faded into silence.
Then—nothing.
Natalia collapsed, unconscious, against the Lycan's shoulder.
Neil's smile widened as he studied her lifeless form.
"A prize, indeed," he murmured, pleased.
Then, with a mocking sigh, he turned to Viktor, his voice laced with cruel amusement.
"I sincerely apologize for wrecking your palace… but we really needed her."
His golden eyes glinted with malice as he added, almost lazily—
"Sad thing, indeed."
King Viktor's face twisted in uncontained rage. His body tensed like he was ready to tear Neil apart.
But Neil only laughed. A sharp, taunting sound that echoed through the ruined palace.
With a lazy flick of his fingers, he gestured to the Lycan holding Natalia.
"Come."
And just like that—
They took her.
---
As Neil and the Lycan disappeared into the darkness, King Viktor and Queen Irina rushed to Anastasia, Clarke, and Nikolai, who lay motionless on the cold stone floor.
The Malovis potion still poisoned their veins, holding them in an unnatural stillness.
"It won't be too long before it takes control," King Viktor murmured, his eyes scanning Anastasia's body, watching for any sign of movement. None came.
The weight of it all pressed on his chest like an iron fist.
He turned sharply to the nearest guards. "Find Tatiana and Olga." His voice was low but edged with urgency.
The remaining guards *nodded and scattered, their hurried footsteps fading into the ruined halls. Smoke still lingered in the air, the scent of blood woven into the walls.
Viktor exhaled sharply and turned back to their children, his expression grim. Time was slipping away. If they didn't act soon, the Malovis would consume them completely.
After a moment of silence, Viktor's voice broke through.
"Does his mother know of this?" he asked quietly.
Irina didn't answer immediately.
Her hand, trembling, reached for the hem of her bloodstained dress, wiping at her nose. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Yes... but she won't be able to do anything."
Viktor frowned. "What do you mean?"
Irina swallowed hard, her gaze distant, almost unfocused. "We lost her in the battle."
A sharp inhale.
" Oh…" Viktor exhaled, his voice nearly inaudible as his eyes fell on Clarke's unconscious form.
Irina could still see her.
Clarke's mother.
A memory—faint yet sharp, like a dull blade dragging across her skin.
---
FLASHBACK
Clarke's mother stood amidst the chaos, her cloak billowing behind her, her face pale and streaked with blood—not all of it her own. Her emerald eyes burned with determination, but there was something else there, something Irina didn't want to name.
Resignation.
Irina could see the way her hands trembled around the sword she held. The way her fingers curled too tightly, as if clinging to something unseen.
Clarke's mother smiled then, but it wasn't one of warmth. It was hollow. Tired. Final.
A gust of wind blew between them, carrying the scent of blood, smoke, and death.
Then the Lycans came.
The last thing Irina remembered was the sight of Clarke's mother—fighting, bleeding, falling.
And then…
She was gone.
---
PRESENT TIME.
Queen Irina blinked rapidly, forcing herself back to the present.
The sounds of the ruined palace rushed back in—the flickering torches, the distant screams, the slow, shallow breaths of their children.
A guard suddenly rushed in. "We found them!"
Viktor snapped out of his daze, immediately turning to the entrance.
His heart stopped.
The guards carried Olga's body in their arms.
Limp. Cold.
Her once-vibrant skin was now ashen, marred by dark veins bulging beneath the surface, like a web of poisoned rivers flowing through her.
The air around her cracked with dark energy, as if the Malovis itself was twisting into her very being.
Viktor rushed forward, his entire body trembling. He carefully took Olga from the guards,cradling her against his chest.
"We need to get them to the sorcerer," he said, voice hoarse, urgent. "Now."
Irina nodded sharply, blinking back tears. "Call for Lady Frieda."
The guards scattered again.
And then—Tatiana emerged from the shadows.
She walked slowly, her small form barely noticeable behind the guards who carried Olga. Her bare feet left faint prints of blood against the floor. Her dress was torn and tattered, ripped at the sides, and her fingers curled and uncurled at her sides.
She looked lost.
Her wide, frantic eyes darted between Olga's lifeless body and her father's anguished face.
She was frozen.
Unable to speak. Unable to move.
The kingdom was in shambles.
And Natalia was gone.
---
Queen Irina's eyes locked onto Tatiana's face, and she rushed to her side.
"Tatiana, my child," she whispered, wrapping her arms around Tatiana's trembling form.
For a moment, Tatiana remained stiff, as if she were still trapped in that dark corridor, still hearing the battle, still feeling the terror clawing at her chest.
Then—she broke.
A choked sob tore from her throat, and her body unraveled in her mother's arms. She buried her face in Queen Irina's shoulder, gripping onto her with a desperation that made Irina's heart shatter.
She held on tight. As if letting go would mean losing everything all over again.
Queen Irina stroked Tatiana's hair, soft, soothing.
"Hush now," she whispered.
But how could she hush the sound of a breaking heart?
How could she silence the grief, the fear, the
unbearable loss that clung to the air like smoke from a dying fire?
How could she tell her child that everything would be okay—when she wasn't sure if it would?
So instead, she held her.
And Tatiana wept.
As the kingdom crumbled around them.
As their family fell apart.
As Natalia disappeared into the night.
The darkest hour had arrived.
And it was far from over.
To be continued...