A woman.

Why does every story always—always, start with a woman?

It should have been expected, or at the very least considered, when hearing all the legends and stories surrounding Ambrosius. Why hadn't they heard them before? How did no one know the complete truth behind everything they'd ever known?

It made no sense. And Rayne didn't know what to think about it.

She'd been staring inside the coffin for a good while, completely dumbfounded. She didn't know how long she stared for, but it was long enough to count the abundance of lashes that lay soundlessly against deep, brown cheeks that hadn't fluttered at all. Her eyes moved to scan her unmoving cherry lips and roamed over the endless beauty that made the woman even more enchanting.

Her curls lay lifeless around her head in a sort of halo with an intricate crown adorned on top of it. Perfectly arched eyebrows were relaxed, much like the rest of her face, and what baffled Rayne the most was how perfectly preserved she was. She wasn't sleeping according to the still movement of her chest and she seemed too tranquil to qualify for being alive. That only meant one thing.

"She's a vampire," Rayne whispered, tilting her head in confusion. She tried to reach into the coffin to touch her, but Jarrah intercepted. He grabbed her hand before she could test if the woman was still alive. Well, as alive as the undead could get.

"Don't touch her, Rayne," he hissed, eyeing the sleeping woman with distrust. He kept Rayne close, like the vampire was five seconds away from jumping out of the coffin and devouring Rayne.

She went to roll her eyes when something strange about the way the woman had her hands folded caught her attention. She cupped a rose stem, but beneath her palms, there had to be something.

"But look! S-she's holding something," Rayne stuttered, pointing to the woman's cupped hands.

Jarrah swallowed, still unsure. But he at least had enough sense in him to agree with Ruth's observation. "Let me look, okay? She could be enchanted with something that I can't sense, and I won't be able to protect you from it."

Rayne wanted to argue, but she knew Jarrah was just protecting her. So she just agreed and told him to hurry before someone comes. That seemed to shake him out of whatever uneasiness plagued his mind, for he reached for the woman's hands with his own. He gripped them firmly, but then stilled, his eyes widening and his body stiffening. His eyes glazed over as if caught in a trance.

"Jarrah?" Rayne asked, anxiously. She grabbed his face urgently and called for him, but he was stuck in a memory she couldn't see.

Queen Lilith fell back against her bed with a loud sigh, her boredom unquenchable for the time being. Making rounds around the village had taken every ounce of energy she had out of her. Not that she minded completely. She loved the stack of art she always received from the young children who had hundreds of stories to tell her in between visits, and she could talk to the women for hours about married life.

But sometimes she just wanted to be back at the palace. Sometimes her gums ached, and she didn't have it in her to feed off of another person. They were always more than willing, but she never had it in her to act on selfish urges such as that. Feeding was her issue and her issue alone.

She absentmindedly wrapped a curl around her finger, listening for the faint scent of her husband. She missed him and she knew he missed her just as much. Having conflicting schedules had its difficulties, but it never stopped them from aching for each other.

His hands found her first.

Long fingers that loved caressing her corset torso and playing with the ribbons that kept her together. Lilith flirtingly smiled, a teasing tilt of her lips that pulled the king in every time she flashed it. She was his one, true weakness. And she knew it well.

"I didn't even hear you get in. You're getting better, my love," she murmured.

His deep chuckle pulsed through her unbeating heart like a shock of lightning. Her eyes flew up to meet the crimson gaze that never failed to stop her world. He made eternity seem like nothing, and she'd never met a more beautiful soul. She remembered how sweet he was the day they met in a meadow while she was tending to her mother's garden. He was a complete gentleman, and it hadn't taken her long to fall in love with him.

He turned her the following summer, and she'd been stuck in love ever since. In love with him, his people, and the life he gave her. She has a few infrequent boredom spells when he was busy, but what queen wouldn't.

But since Ambrosius was there now, he must have finished with his duties early.

"How was the village?" he murmured, his fingers loosening the ribbons of her corset.

"You would know if you visited it more often," she reminded him. She hummed at the drifting of his fingertips along her side, nudging the material off. She was still in her cream gown that always slipped under the corset, but she was more exposed to him than she was a moment ago. Her chest strained against the fabric and she shivered when his thumb ghosted over one of her hardened peaks.

"You're right, love," he agreed, closing the distance between them to capture her lips in a kiss that drove her mind wild. Without parting, he mumbles out the softest, "I'll visit soon. Forgive me?"

Lilith's fingers curved against his smooth cheek, pulling back just enough to look into the depths of his loving gaze. "Already forgiven," she promised, earning a sweet grin in return.

Before either of them could get carried away, a scream from somewhere in the palace pierced the air, freezing them both mid-action. Ambrosius' eyebrows furrowed, and he pulled away from her swiftly, his ears listening intently along with Lilith's. Not even half-a-second later, his closest advisor came bursting into the room without a knock to signal his arrival.

"SIRE," he gasped, his scarlet eyes wide with something Lilith had never seen in them before. Her blood ran cold at such a horrific look.

Ambrosius flung his arms around his wife protectively to shield her scantly clad body and he growled out a, "Merion!"

"I'm sorry, your majesty. I would have knocked, but it's urgent! The palace is under siege as we speak and we need to get you out—"

Merion couldn't even finish his sentence.

Two burly, shifted wolves launched themselves into the open room, flanked by Fae people Lilith had never seen in the village before. She shook in Ambrosius' arms, her hands clutching onto his biceps as one wolf attacked Merion. Ambrosius pushed his body partly in front of her and snarled at the threat looming before them. But they were outnumbered and Lilith definitely wasn't skilled enough to hold her own. Not against wolves and witches; two species she never thought would want to harm them.

She sniffed, sensing another being nearby. A witch, perhaps? Had they all . . . had they all worked together to attack them? But why? What had they done?

A Fae woman with hair the shade of a raven's wing had a hand in front of the second wolf who hadn't attacked Merion's screaming form to temporarily hold him off. She wickedly grinned at Lilith and Ambrosius, obviously getting some form of sick pleasure out of seeing his protectiveness around his scared wife.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice shaking with rage. "How dare you trespass on vampire territory!"

"Vampires have been in power for far too long, Ambrosius. You've been in power for too long, and the people want a new species to take the throne," the Fae taunted, her crystal eyes sparkling with greed. "The vampires are no longer needed, I'm afraid."

The wolf growled at her side; begging to be released from his restrained, invisible leash. The second wolf joined them soon after; Merion lying dead in the corner of Ambrosius and Lilith's room. Her soul ached for him and her eyes swelled with a river of red tears.

"P-please," she stuttered, and Ambrosius stiffened as the woman swiveled her gaze to her. She swallowed back the fear clawing at her throat and tried her best to put on her invisible crown, despite her husband wanting her to stay silent until he could get her to safety. "Please don't hurt us. W-we can negotiate accordingly and—"

"Oh, it's much too late for that, Your Excellency," the Fae murmured, her eyes glowing with pleasure. "We'd love to stay and chat, but we're on a bit of a tight schedule. So shall we move this along, Owen?"

The first wolf at her side licked its jaw menacingly at the name. He crouched down low, his hind legs shackled in preparation. The woman didn't move her hand just yet, but she was seconds away from allowing the launch. And her greedy eyes craved it.

"Run," Ambrosius hissed to Lilith.

"I won't leave you," she cried, and he grabbed her face quickly. His eyes locked with hers, and for the first time since she'd been turned, she saw genuine fear in his gaze for what was to come. And the fear wasn't for himself, but for her. He was always looking out for her before himself and that scared her even more because she knew she couldn't protect him.

"I love you, Lily. I always have," he rushed, anguished. "Run as far as you can, my love. Please."

Her eyes watered. She would not leave, but she still needed him to know that he was her life. "I love you," she sobbed, and the Fae released the dogs.

Ambrosius ripped himself from her body and delivered a blow to the first wolf that lunged for Lilith as she swirled off the top of the bed. Her eyes frantically searched for a way to leverage the situation as both wolves did their best to kill her husband first, but he was a vampire lord for a reason. He handled his own fairly well, but she knew it was only a matter of time before one wolf did something drastic. So she ripped off a piece of wood from their bed and sent it flying through the air until the sharp, jagged edge sailed straight into the second wolf's side. The wolf howled in pain, staggering off of Ambrosius and falling weekly to the ground.

Ambrosius screamed at her to run, but she'd never leave him. Hadn't he told her they were in this together when she turned? Did he really think her that much a coward? She was already turning around again, preparing the next stake to use, when something sharp pushed itself forward through her chest. She gasped loudly in time for a neck to snap and a cry to resonate throughout the room. Pain seized her chest as she shakily looked down to see a wooden stake sticking straight out of it, a red flower blossoming behind the cream silk she wore. Stakes weren't supposed to harm her, but there was something about that one in particular that was enchanted with a spell that rendered her weak. The Fae screeched somewhere in the distance behind her, but her chest was throbbing too much to focus on them.

She stumbled backwards into a pair of shaking arms that caught her.

"Lily!" A voice cried, anguished. She blinked through the haze of pain to stare up into Ambrosius's bloody tear-stained face and she almost smiled in relief, thankful the snap hadn't been him.

His hands shook as he grabbed her cheek, his panic breaking the rest of her heart that wasn't splintered by enchanted wood. "No, no, no. T-this can't happen, this isn't supposed to happen," he choked, wrapping his fingers around the stake and yanking it out of her. She gasped on the dark blood rushing up her throat, the pain refusing to end.

Lilith didn't want to scare her love, but she was fading, and she knew what that meant.

She was running out of time.

And that was all they wanted together. Endless time.

"Sius," she choked, using his nickname to grab his attention. She needed it; one last time.

His eyes filled with more tears and he moved his hand up to grab her face, his hand stained with her blood. "Save your breath, Lily. C-Clive's coming and h-he'll fix this. You just have to hold on, love."

"Sius," she whispered, squinting harder to keep her gaze open for just a little longer. Blood frothed at the corners of her lips and there was nothing she could do to stop the trickle from slithering down her chin.

Ambrosius pressed his forehead to hers, the soft whimper making her soul ache. She wasn't ready to leave him, not so soon. But she had little choice.

"I love you," she slurred, her vision spotting.

Ambrosius clutched her body to him and it was then she heard the most heartbreaking sound she'd ever heard in all the years she had been living. His wail broke glamours, halted rivers, and shattered souls. Her soul leaked out along with it as she gave into the darkness that beckoned her closer.

Revenge blinded Ambrosius' mercy.

No one was safe from his wrath, and he was going to raise hell on every species involved, he thought, as he loomed over his wife.

He slid his most prized possession between Lilith's fingers, watching the purple elixir become hidden between clasped hands. He stared down at her for a long time, heart utterly shattered.

"Sire?" Weston, Merion's current replacement, murmured, breaking Ambrosius out of his grief.

"Make the preparations," he responded, coldly. "We won't stop until every one of those damned species are obliterated. I don't want anyone left alive, Weston."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And I want every person's memories in the village wiped of your queen. No one must know."

Weston hesitated. "You . . . want them to forget her?"

Ambrosius confirmed his earlier words with irritation and then barked at him to go. He didn't have it in him to explain to Weston the importance of her staying a secret. There were two worries there that people like Weston would never understand. The most important was the discovery of the woman he loved. They had already killed her, he couldn't imagine what they would do to the body if it was ever discovered . . .

Ambrosius nearly shook just thinking about it. He'd have to change the narrative. He'd make it seem like she was just one of his many lovers, which couldn't have been farther from the truth. But he needed to keep her safe, hidden.

And the second worry, was the discovery of the one thing that could remove his powers. He needed his powers now more than ever until he completed the task he promised himself. Before he joined his precious wife, he needed to seek revenge on all those who took her away from him. He didn't care who was or wasn't responsible. Until every species but the vampire were extinct, he would not rest.

Ambrosius hesitantly moved his fingers from his hidden elixir to travel to her cool cheek. The thought of never getting to see that gorgeous smile again made his soul cry. It didn't seem right that she'd never look up at him with those loving, brown eyes again. That she'd never chase him around the palace with her curls flying behind her like a cape. None of it seemed real. And yet here they were.

Lilith in a coffin while he cried above her.

He had told her to run, to save herself. But it was really his fault for not being quick enough to save her. He should have known she was too strong, too courageous to leave him.

"Oh, Lilith," he murmured, sadly. How he missed her already. "I swear to you I won't rest until the world is rid of those ungrateful creatures. Every one of those murderous bastards will die at our hands and only then, will I even think about asking for your forgiveness. Wait for me just a little longer, love."

He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead.

Jarrah slumped forward with a gasp, his mind reeling with whatever he had just seen. Rayne breathed out a sigh of relief, her hands still grabbing hold of his face. His hand hung in the coffin, still grabbing onto Lilith's much colder one.

"Oh, thank Creator," Rayne breathed, concern still churning in her gut. "What happened, Jarrah? What did you see?"

It took him a second to find the words and bring himself back to the present. His eyes were no longer glazed over, but he still seemed off. Different from before; from whatever he had seen.

"Our people . . . they killed her. That's why he-Ambrosius is after us. He wants revenge," Jarrah whispered, blinking. He looked over to Rayne and something strange passed over his features. Regret? Sorrow? She didn't know for sure, but she didn't like it.

"Revenge? Who is she to him?" Rayne asked, anxiously. "And-and what did we do?"

He swallowed thickly and looked back down at Lilith. "His mate. Lilith," he stated, struggling to get the words out through stiff lips.

Her eyes widened. She never knew Ambrosius could love, let alone that he had a mate. There was never anything in any archives that ever hinted at him having a mate, and she'd been thorough in her research. He'd been around for thousands of years, and the fact that he had a mate that nobody knew about . . . it rendered her speechless.

She looked down at the peaceful woman. "That can't be true. From the stories, he was unmarried, unmated. How would he have hidden a secret this big?"

"Think about it, Rayne. It's been decades since her death. Only those in the village knew of her existence, and Ambrosius changed the story. Our people used to live in harmony in the village until the wolves and Fae blamed each other for setting him off, creating our divide. But they didn't know what they had done to set Ambrosius off because," he trailed off. "Because he wiped their memory."

Rayne's mind reeled with everything she had just learned. Though she hated to admit it, a part of her almost felt terrible for the king of darkness. She couldn't imagine someone killing the person she loved most, to be betrayed by so many species was just . . . incomprehensible. Just staring at the softness of the woman, she knew she was good. Too good to be killed so senselessly.

"I also saw," Jarrah started, then paused. He slowly moved Lilith's hands, being as careful as possible, away from the rose laying against her stomach.

Rayne's eyes widened in time with Jarrah's sharp intake. Both of them staggered back at the sight of the purple vile glowing in the lifeless cradle of her nimble fingers. The legend dissipated before their eyes.

The lost elixir was no longer lost. It was real. So real, that Rayne's stomach churned and her eyes glossed over from the strength of it. The elixir was somebody's life line, somebody who thought he had a reason to hurt those who hurt him.

But they weren't the same generation as those who hurt him. Like Jarrah said, it had been decades. And if Rayne could take away his pain so he could move on, she would. And she never thought she would say such a thing about the vampire who wreaked havoc on so many people.

But there was no justifying what Ambrosius had done. All she had to do was think back to the lodge with those wolf families caught in flames. It still traumatized her to picture all the children that were murdered that night, and the creepy vampire who was more than willing to take advantage of her if she hadn't had the upper hand. There was no justifying any of it.