▪︎ Chapter 118 ▪︎ “If you didn’t exist,”

Lavinia watched the forest flash beneath her.

At their speed, individual trees became little more than streaks of black and deep green, broken occasionally by pale stone formations, streams catching moonlight, and enormous clearings that appeared and vanished behind her within seconds. 

Her wings beat steadily, each powerful stroke pushing her onward through the cool night air.

The temperature didn't bother her.

Nothing about the air physically bothered her.

Yet it felt different.

Five years.

Time had simply continued without her.

That was the only explanation she had, and it wasn't much of one. She hadn't fallen asleep and awakened five years later.

There had been no gradual transition, no sense of missing time, not even a moment of darkness separating one existence from the other.

She had been going to a ceremony.

Then she'd been sitting at a table drinking blood in a castle full of vampires.

Lavinia turned her head.

Valerie flew several dozen feet away, orange hair streaming behind her. She caught Lavinia's glance almost immediately.

Valerie smiled.

Her wings adjusted, and she drifted closer until they were flying almost shoulder to shoulder.

"You okay?"

Lavinia looked forward again.

"No."

Valerie blinked.

"You've been weird since dinner," she said. "I thought you were bored at first, but you're doing that thing where you stare at everything like you're trying to solve it."

Lavinia frowned.

"I'm not okay."

Valerie's playful expression softened.

Lavinia hesitated, then forced the words out. "I can't remember the past."

Valerie stared at her.

"I don't know how much of it," Lavinia continued. "I don't even know—"

Valerie's smile froze.

For the briefest instant, she looked genuinely alarmed.

Then the expression disappeared.

A smile reappeared in exactly the same place.

"Lavinia, you're always so funny."

Lavinia stared at her.

Valerie laughed lightly.

"We're here."

She folded her wings and dropped.

"What?"

Valerie was already descending.

Lavinia looked down.

The forest opened beneath them, revealing a collection of buildings surrounded by cleared land. 

She followed almost automatically, angling her wings and dropping rapidly toward the village.

Her boots touched earth.

Her wings folded inward and disappeared into her dress.

Valerie landed beside her. Gwendolyn and Evangeline came down moments later, each retracting her wings before starting toward the settlement.

Lavinia remained still for a second.

Valerie hadn't answered her.

She hurried after them.

"I can't remember anything."

All three vampires stopped.

Not gradually.

They simply froze.

Gwendolyn had one foot slightly ahead of the other. Evangeline's head was turned halfway toward Lavinia. Valerie stood utterly motionless.

Then they resumed walking.

Lavinia slowed.

What the fuck?

"Okay."

Nobody responded.

She followed.

Was something stopping them from understanding her?

Or stopping her from telling them?

Lavinia searched for another approach.

"Gwen."

"Hm?"

"Do you remember that boring ceremony we had to sit through after defending Oakridge?"

Gwendolyn looked over her shoulder.

Her nose wrinkled.

"That ceremony?"

"Yes."

Gwendolyn laughed. "That was five years ago."

Lavinia stopped.

Five.

The number struck harder when someone actually said it.

Gwendolyn turned and began walking backward, smiling at her. "Feeling sentimental?"

"Maybe."

"I remember thinking everything was finally going to get better." Gwendolyn's smile became faintly embarrassed.

"Like we'd saved Oakridge together, so everyone would realize we could get along and the world could be normal."

Evangeline snorted.

Gwendolyn looked at her. "What?"

"It was never going to work."

"You don't know that."

"I do now."

Evangeline shrugged. "We were all too different. Vampires, humans, wolves, then everything else. Once things got bad enough, everyone showed how ugly they could be."

Gwendolyn turned around again.

Lavinia followed in silence.

Five years.

The village was closer now.

Someone emerged from between two buildings.

A man.

Human—

No.

Thrall.

Lavinia could hear his heartbeat.

He moved far too quickly to be human, rushing along the dirt path toward them before slowing several yards away.

He bowed deeply.

"Your Highness."

Lavinia stared.

The Thrall straightened with a broad smile. "I'm so pleased you've deigned to visit."

Her Highness.

Fantastic.

Apparently while she'd been absent from her own life, she'd acquired a title.

Lavinia glanced at Valerie.

Valerie appeared completely unsurprised.

That was almost worse.

She knew vampires. She knew how they behaved toward one another. 

Whatever had happened, she doubted becoming royalty meant she'd begun ordering vampires around like servants. The species simply wasn't built that way.

But humans?

Thralls?

That seemed different now.

Valerie looked at the man. "Any problems?"

"None that I couldn't handle, Lady Valerie. The Duchess placed me in charge here, and naturally I haven't disappointed her."

The Duchess.

Another title Lavinia had no context for.

The Thrall turned toward the village. "There were still some attempts at resistance when I first arrived, but after a little effort, those have largely collapsed."

He sounded proud.

"Good," Valerie said.

They followed him.

The village was crude.

Not primitive, exactly. The buildings were made from wood, brick, salvaged stone and whatever other materials had apparently been available. 

Some looked professionally constructed. Others were clearly assembled from scavenged pieces, additions made over time as the population grew.

Lavinia saw vegetable gardens.

Water barrels.

Livestock.

People.

Her attention settled on the first human she passed.

A man sat outside one of the houses, repairing something wooden in his lap.

He wasn't emaciated.

His clothing was worn, but he appeared healthy enough. There was weight on him. 

His arms showed the muscle of someone who worked regularly. His skin wasn't stretched over bone.

Of course.

Vampires needed them alive.

More than that, they needed humans healthy enough to repeatedly lose blood without dying.

The man's eyes had been distant.

Then he noticed them.

His entire body stiffened.

His gaze dropped immediately.

His hands began trembling.

Lavinia looked back after they passed.

"What happened to the power?"

Evangeline glanced at her.

"The what?"

"Electricity."

Evangeline raised both eyebrows. "What electricity?"

Lavinia stared at her.

Then Evangeline laughed. "Oh. You mean generally."

"Yes."

"That's been gone forever."

Five years was apparently forever now.

"Power was already getting spotty after the Second Divergence," Evangeline continued. 

"By the Third, the grid was finished. Completely. Some cities have generators. Solar still works where people can maintain it. A few places got absurdly lucky and had enough local generation inside the city after everything stretched apart. But most places?"

She gestured around them.

"Dark."

Lavinia looked at the village differently.

There were lanterns hanging beside doors.

Candles behind windows.

No power lines.

No distant electrical glow.

Nothing.

"Probably part of why humans finally panicked," Evangeline added. "Everything they relied on stopped working, then another Divergence happened."

She rolled her eyes.

"Witches didn't help one bit."

Lavinia almost asked what Witches had done.

A movement nearby distracted her.

A woman stood beside a small building with a child.

The instant she saw the vampires, she crouched and pulled the child tightly against herself.

Her heartbeat accelerated so sharply that Lavinia could hear it from across the road.

The child's did too.

They were terrified.

Not nervous.

Not cautious.

Terrified.

The woman stared at them as though four monsters had just walked into her village.

Lavinia frowned.

Yes, vampires were keeping humans here.

Apparently against their will.

That was bad enough.

But this—

This looked like something deeper.

Gwendolyn noticed them.

Her expression soured.

"Get out of my sight."

The woman didn't hesitate.

She scooped the child into her arms and hurried away, nearly stumbling as she disappeared behind one of the houses.

Gwendolyn watched her go.

"So annoying."

Lavinia looked at her.

"What?"

Gwendolyn crossed her arms. "I hate when they look at us like we're monsters."

Lavinia didn't know what to say to that.

Valerie shrugged. "If she went to a human city, she'd probably discover she's better off here."

Lavinia turned toward her. "What do you mean by a human city?"

Valerie tilted her head.

For a moment, Lavinia worried she'd said something that would produce the same strange response as admitting she couldn't remember.

Instead Valerie answered.

"Humans still gather in cities. Tides don't happen often anymore, but they still happen, and bigger populations are easier to defend."

"Tides still happen?"

"Sometimes."

Valerie hooked an arm through Lavinia's.

"But cities aren't like Oakridge was. Not really. Some are better than others, obviously, but order mostly collapsed. Murder, theft, gangs, people disappearing. Worse things."

Her nose wrinkled.

"Being a decent-looking woman in some human cities is enough to make life dangerous."

Valerie glanced toward Lavinia.

"We have a woman in one of the other villages who came into our territory voluntarily."

"Voluntarily?"

"She asked to become a blood slave."

Lavinia stiffened.

Valerie seemed amused by her surprise.

"She knew what happened here. Still preferred it."

Lavinia looked ahead.

A man stood near a wooden fence.

Unlike everyone else they'd passed, he didn't avert his eyes.

He glared.

The hatred in his expression was naked.

Lavinia looked around at the other humans.

Misery.

Fear.

Submission.

What the hell had happened?

How had five years been enough for everything to move in the worst possible direction?

A strangled cry snapped her attention back.

The angry man was suddenly on the ground.

Evangeline stood over him.

One boot rested against his back.

"That's rude," she said lightly. "Didn't anyone teach you not to glare?"

The man's face twisted.

"You killed her!"

Evangeline tilted her head.

"You killed my wife in front of me!"

He struggled beneath her boot.

Gwendolyn twirled a lock of white hair around one finger.

"If you hadn't been trying to convince our blood slaves to rebel, that wouldn't have happened, would it?"

The man went still.

Then his hand moved.

Metal flashed.

He twisted violently and slashed a knife across Evangeline's thigh.

"Ohhh?"

Evangeline stepped backward in surprise.

The cut was already closing.

Valerie leaned lightly against Lavinia.

"You do realize the Princess is here, don't you?" she asked the man. "If you keep acting out, a little punishment isn't going to be all you endure."

The man's eyes found Lavinia.

His expression changed.

Recognition.

Hatred.

Fear.

He climbed unsteadily to his feet and raised the knife toward her.

"You."

Lavinia stared.

"This is your fault."

"What?"

"If you hadn't become the Vampire Princess—if you hadn't made humanity afraid enough to try to eradicate you—"

His hand shook.

"How would any of this have happened?"

Lavinia was stunned.

How the fuck was this on her?

Vampire Princess?

She looked down at herself as though some obvious physical difference might suddenly appear.

Nothing.

She felt exactly the same.

She was Lavinia.

How had she brought about the end of the world?

Evangeline scoffed.

"Humans were afraid, humans struck first, and now humans don't like the consequences."

She kicked him.

Lightly, by vampire standards.

The man flew several yards and hit the ground hard enough to roll.

Evangeline bent and picked up the knife he'd dropped.

She twirled it between her fingers.

"And Lavinia wasn't even the worst."

Lavinia slowly looked toward her.

"The other Princesses were much worse," Evangeline continued. "Some of them actually launched campaigns to conquer human territory. And other species' territory. Whole continents went to war."

Princesses.

Plural.

Evangeline crouched beside the man.

She slipped the knife beneath his chin and lifted his face.

"The Golden Continent is peaceful compared with most of them. Humans still have their own cities here. We don't constantly attack them."

The man tried to spit at her.

Evangeline's hand moved.

His face slammed into the dirt before he managed it.

"If you spit on me," Evangeline said pleasantly, "I might actually tear your heart out and feed it to you."

Her tone was almost cheerful.

The man grunted.

Blood ran from his nose and mixed with soil around his mouth.

He seemed dazed.

Still, he forced himself to speak.

"You leave the cities alone?"

"Mostly."

"You still come in."

Evangeline smiled.

"You take people. You take people from the roads. From the outskirts. You take tribute."

His voice became harsher.

"Blood. People. Doesn't matter. You still reach your bloodstained hands into our cities whenever you want."

Valerie giggled.

"Maybe humans would rather reason with the Sirens."

The man glared at her.

"Or the Elves."

Valerie suddenly covered her mouth, laughing harder.

"Oh, wait. Humans 'accidentally' killed a Royal Elf."

She emphasized the word with obvious mockery.

"Now the Elves hate humans so much that we treat humans better."

Lavinia looked upward.

Stars.

The stars were familiar.

That almost made everything worse.

Same sky.

Same world.

Everything beneath it had changed.

She stepped forward.

Evangeline glanced at her, then moved aside.

Lavinia knelt.

Her black dress pooled around her legs.

The man stared at her, apparently startled that she'd lowered herself enough to speak directly to him.

"Why?"

His lip curled.

"Why what?"

"Why did everything turn out this way?"

Silence.

He studied her face.

Perhaps he was searching for mockery.

He found none.

"If you didn't exist," he finally said, "would humans have felt the need to strike first?"

Lavinia frowned.

"You. The other Royals. All of you."

His voice shook with anger.

"You didn't wage as many wars as the others. Congratulations."

He laughed bitterly.

"You're still the one who controls the vampires of the Northern Continent."

Lavinia felt cold despite being incapable of caring about the temperature.

"You've killed more humans than I could ever count. Your vampires have killed more. You keep countless others enslaved."

He gestured weakly around himself.

"Blood. That's what we are. Blood that walks around until you're hungry."

Lavinia's solid red eyes remained fixed on him.

"And when we don't cooperate?"

He laughed again.

"You scare us. Hurt us. Hurt our families. Take someone we love. Kill someone if that's what makes everyone else behave."

His jaw tightened.

"And then you tell yourselves you're merciful because you didn't kill all of us."

Lavinia sighed softly.

"I can't change existing."

The man stared at her.

"But why did humans feel the need to strike first?" Lavinia asked. "Couldn't everyone have coexisted?"

He snorted.

"Look around."

His eyes moved toward the village.

"Vampires capture humans and keep us as blood slaves."

Gwendolyn rolled her eyes.

"Witches take people apart because they need ingredients. Blood. Organs. Bones. Whatever their fucking ritual wants."

Lavinia listened.

"Sirens eat us."

Valerie's smile faded slightly.

"Werewolves claim territory, and humans who wander into the wrong places don't always come back. Giants barely acknowledge we exist. Dryads isolate themselves and kill people who push into places they don't want us."

He swallowed.

"And the Fae?"

For the first time, genuine unease crossed his expression.

"Fuck the Fae."

Nobody laughed.

Interesting.

Evangeline eventually broke the silence.

"You forgot Elves."

The man's face twisted.

"They're humanity's worst enemy on nearly every continent," Evangeline continued. "And why?"

She smiled.

"Because humans successfully killed one Royal Elf."

She spread her hands.

"What did you think would happen if it worked?"

The man said nothing.

"You tried to kill the Royals of other species too. You can't try to wipe us out and then cry when we decide we don't like you."

Her smile disappeared.

"That's not fair."

Lavinia glanced toward her.

Evangeline looked completely sincere.

Perhaps that was the most unsettling part.

She wasn't pretending.

None of them were.

"We should give him to a Witch next time one comes to trade," Evangeline said.

The man went pale.

Evangeline smiled again.

"Maybe after she's experimented on you for a while or cut out a few organs for rituals, you'll realize being a blood slave wasn't so bad."

Gwendolyn nudged her.

"That's mean."

"You were the one talking about his wife."

"That's different."

Gwendolyn looked at the man.

"Some humans starve in the cities."

Her voice wasn't cruel.

That somehow made it worse.

"Here you have food. You have somewhere to sleep. Nobody hurts you if you behave."

The man stared at her.

"Your wife died because you tried to resist."

His face crumpled for an instant.

Gwendolyn continued.

"If you'd behaved, she'd still be alive. Maybe you'd have a child by now. You could have had a perfectly decent life."

Her red eyes narrowed.

"But you couldn't accept it. You had to be so human about everything."

The man surged upright with a roar.

He charged.

Gwendolyn barely moved.

Valerie did.

Orange flashed.

Her foot struck his side.

The man flew sideways and crashed onto the dirt.

He curled around himself, gasping.

Valerie looked toward the Thrall.

The man had stood several yards away throughout the entire exchange.

He looked entertained.

"The next time a Witch comes through asking for resources," Valerie said, "recommend him."

The Thrall bowed.

"Of course."

The human man's face contorted.

"No."

Valerie frowned.

"You insulted the Golden Princess."

Golden.

Lavinia glanced at her hair.

That explained that much, at least.

Valerie crossed her arms.

"There are consequences for that."

"Fuck your Princess."

Valerie's eyes narrowed.

"Be glad she's here, then."

The man laughed weakly.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not killing you while she's standing right there."

Lavinia didn't know whether that was supposed to reassure him.

Apparently it didn't.

He looked at her again.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Lavinia finally rose.

She looked around.

The village had gone quiet.

Not ordinary quiet.

Human heartbeats thundered behind walls.

People had hidden inside their homes.

Curtains had moved.

Doors had closed.

Nobody came outside.

Nobody tried to help the man.

Nobody even called his name.

They were afraid.

Not merely of being hurt.

They had learned that intervention itself was dangerous.

Lavinia could hear children.

Adults whispering.

Someone crying quietly behind a wall.

One woman was trying to calm another person's breathing.

The vampires hadn't been here long.

Five years.

Five years ago, humans had stared at Lavinia in shopping malls.

They'd taken pictures.

Some had flirted with her.

Some had been afraid of her.

Some had wanted interviews.

Rebecca had called her beautiful.

Soldiers had thanked her for saving them.

A crowd had applauded vampires and werewolves for defending Oakridge alongside humans.

Five years.

That was all.

Now an entire village went silent when four vampires walked through it.

Lavinia stared down the road.

No electric lights.

No cars.

No distant city glow.

Just lanterns, rough houses, frightened humans, and vampires who spoke about them as resources.

The worst part was that Lavinia couldn't simply look at Valerie, Gwendolyn, and Evangeline and see strangers.

She loved them.

That hadn't changed.

Whatever horror she felt at the world around her didn't erase the warmth that came when Valerie moved beside her. 

It didn't stop Gwendolyn's scent from being comforting. It didn't make Evangeline seem like some unknown monster wearing a familiar face.

They were themselves.

Maybe that was the problem.

Lavinia looked at the man again.

He hated her.

Not some abstract Vampire Princess.

Her.

Apparently he had reasons.

Reasons she couldn't remember earning.

"Lavinia?"

Valerie's voice was soft.

Lavinia turned.

Valerie watched her closely.

For an instant, Lavinia considered saying it again.

I don't remember.

But she'd tried that.

Something about the words slid away from them.

So she looked beyond Valerie, toward the dark horizon.

Somewhere out there were human cities whose inhabitants apparently murdered and exploited one another because order had collapsed.

There were Witches who could take people apart for rituals.

Werewolf territories.

Dryads.

Sirens.

Elven Forests.

Giants.

Fae.

Other vampire Princesses who had apparently waged wars across entire continents.

And somehow Lavinia stood near the center of one piece of it.

The Golden Princess.

Controller of the vampires of the Northern Continent.

The title felt absurd.

She didn't remember becoming anything.

She remembered being Lavinia.

A vampire who had gotten excited because she'd found a giant sword.

A vampire who had helped save Oakridge because people were in danger.

A vampire who, only moments ago from her perspective, had been preparing to sit through a boring ceremony celebrating humans, werewolves, and vampires for fighting together.

Lavinia turned her face upward.

The stars hadn't changed.

Everything else had.

Behind her, the human man coughed wetly.

The Thrall waited for instructions.

Around them, dozens of humans remained hidden behind doors, their hearts pounding as they waited for the vampires to leave.

Fear and obedience.

Five years had been enough to drill both into them.

And somewhere inside Lavinia, beneath the confusion and horror, was that same impossible feeling she'd experienced in the castle.

Familiarity.

As if this world, monstrous as it seemed, wasn't foreign to her at all.

As if she belonged here.