The palace slept restlessly.
Though the feast had ended in a quiet show of dominance, the power that pulsed through Sophia now whispered to every hidden corner of the vampire kingdom. From forgotten crypts to shadowed courtyards, old spirits stirred, sensing the rise of something ancient, something divine.
Lucian lay beside her, yet not asleep. His fingers traced the scars blooming along her shoulder blades, where her wings pressed against skin that could barely contain them.
"You defied Kael," he said quietly, admiration in every word. "Even I wouldn't have drunk that cursed blood."
Sophia turned toward him, cheek pressed against his bare chest. "You would have, if it meant protecting me."
He didn't argue. He only wrapped his arm around her tighter.
"I feel it," she murmured. "The land here... it hums beneath my skin. It's like the kingdom is watching me."
"It is." His voice was grim. "And not everyone is pleased with what they see."
Sophia's wings twitched again—small, glimmering nubs now beginning to take form, each movement aching like bones breaking in reverse. "Let them look. I'm not hiding."
Before Lucian could answer, a shadow swept across the open balcony door. Selene emerged, her steps silent, face solemn.
"There's movement in the far north," she said. "Your stepbrother's scouts have reached the borders."
Sophia sat upright, ignoring the stabbing pain. "Sean?"
Selene nodded. "He's sent word to the fae high court... declaring you mentally unstable due to your long stay in the human world. He claims your magic is corrupted. He's asked to claim you—for your protection, he says."
Lucian growled low in his throat.
"I'll kill him," he said flatly.
"No," Sophia replied, her voice like frost. "Not yet. Let him keep walking into his own trap."
Selene raised an eyebrow. "You're becoming very queenly."
Sophia met her gaze. "I've bled for this. Burned for it. If they want to call me mad, then let them tremble when the madness wears a crown."
Later that day, the court sent for her again.
But this time, not to test her strength—but her lineage.
They demanded proof of her birthright, that she truly bore the mark of the fae goddess whose line had vanished. It was more politics, more poison hidden behind golden goblets.
Lucian fumed as they stood at the edge of the scrying circle, deep beneath the palace in the ancient ceremonial crypts. "This is a trap. They know what happens when you tap too deeply into your bloodline."
Sophia stood tall beside him, her body trembling, wings nearly breaking through her skin now. "Then let me bleed."
Inside the circle, the ancient stone pulsed as her bare feet touched its center. Flames whispered to life. A sigil carved into the floor—a blooming star crowned by lunar thorns—responded to her presence.
And then… she screamed.
Power surged through her, ripping through every vein, every nerve. Her hair spilled down her back in a golden river as her wings burst from her flesh with a searing crack.
The court watched in stunned silence.
A glowing crown of light formed briefly above her head—no metal, no jewel—just raw divinity.
Sophia collapsed into Lucian's arms, panting, slick with sweat and blood, but glowing.
"She is of the goddess line," Selene announced to the nobles. "And your true heir."
The silence that followed was no longer filled with doubt.
It was filled with fear.
And a hunger for power that would soon lead to war.