Two weeks later, the coven had prepared for the arrival of the coven's grand elders. Everything had been repaired, cleaned, and polished. Nathaniel had been certain to arrange for the whole household to receive the makers of the Winslow bloodline. While they were not monarchs, nor gods, the Winslow grand elders were highly regarded as the founders of the coven. Their presence was of high importance and to be closely monitored.

Logan leaned back in his chair as he waited for the convoy to arrive down on L4 where the dining hall had been converted into a large conference room. He held back a sigh, straightening the lapel of his leather jacket. When Ranelle reached over to touch his knee in reassurance, he smiled at her. He knew her nerves were not much better than his and she had spent the previous two nights in anxiety with him there to comfort her.

Ranelle let go of his leg, settling her hands back on the arms of her chair. She had chosen to wear a loose-fitting blouse in hopes to conceal her figure, a suit jacket placed over it. She crossed her knees gingerly and glanced to her other side to check on Avalon from where the boy sat in his assigned chair. The seven-year-old exchanged looks with her, and she smiled a bit more truly.

The woman hadn't laid eyes on her maker's eldest brother and younger sister in decades, and she could only hope they were no more terrible than she could remember. Unlike Hadrian, Thorne was more reserved in his occasional outbursts, preferring the harshest tones possible for a man's voice that came across as calm threats. She had seen him when he lost his temper, though it was rare to simmer past obvious frustration. Kendall, on the other hand, had always been one of the worst for tantrums, often rivaling Hadrian's anger. And Ranelle could only hope that the youngest Winslow grand elder, Seren, had decided to come along with his siblings to keep the room in order.

The doors opened and the valets held it wide for the three Winslow grand elders. Their presence immediately filled the large dining hall, causing conversations to mute. Thorne came into the room first, his tall six-foot-seven frame looking massive in his chosen black suit and boots. The jacket had been unbuttoned to match the nearly-undone shirt to expose his tattoos. The man's dark brown hair had streaks of red and blonde, trimmed short on the sides and long on the top to wave over in the new modern era's popular cut. His face exhibited a full beard, slight wrinkles, and a few small pockmark scars that spoke to his eternal age. His dark eyes shot across the room, seeking out his own fledge.

Behind the eldest Winslow brother came the youngest. Seren Winslow followed his brother into the room, his arms folded behind his back passively. His golden-brown hair was long enough to reach his shoulders, the front locks tucked behind his pierced ears. He had a kinder face than his brother, with a smile on his full lips and in his lighter grey-green eyes. He wore a sweater over his button-down, his slacks pressed and ironed. He looked down to the youngest member of his delegation that had traveled from the United States to the motherland of England.

The little girl grinned up at him in return. Her dark, raven-colored hair was braided into matching sections, the tails draped across her shoulders. She had dimples in her cheeks, her lavender eyes lit up with excitement. She was dressed in a velvet jumper the color of charcoal. She continued to smile at her mentor before looking forward, her smile growing as she laid eyes on her parents.

Before the girl could make a move to run to Nathaniel and Kearran, the final person in the Winslow party spoke, "Elizabeth, show your respect to the council."

The seven-year-old held back the need to roll her eyes, glancing at the woman. She was tall and thin with golden-brown hair and dressed in a long gown made out of dark blue silk. Kendall Winslow gave the girl a look of seriousness.

The child paused beside Lord Thorne and gave a half-hearted curtsy, glancing at both of them as a silent way of obeying with attitude.

Thorne looked from the child back to his fledgling. His hands gripped into fists at his side before relaxing. "Nathaniel," he said in a cold greeting.

"Sire," Nathaniel answered, standing from his chair at the council table. He bowed his head and shoulders respectfully. "Thank you for taking my invitation in joining us back on the Motherland's soil."

"Well, it would have been hard to ignore with such outlandish claims you seem to be making, Bartholomeu," Kendall warned, her tone unkind.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, my lady," Nathaniel said, "but this was an update I could not risk being said in writing to fall into the hands of our enemies, and it warrants more of a conversation rather than just over the phones."

"Start from the beginning," Seren said calmly as he found an empty chair that was waiting for them in the open area of the dining hall. He crossed his ankle onto his opposite knee with ease. He patted the seat beside his chair and Elizabeth joined him willingly.

"Or, how about we start with what he's doing here?" Kendall interjected as her eyes settled on Logan. "My brother had a very strict rule. There is to be no Dracula-blood in this city."

Nathaniel glanced from the Winslow grand elders to Logan as the man tensed in his seat. "Logan Mezdor is the latest addition to our council leadership," he said slowly. "He came to us and has pledged an alliance with the Shadow Stalker cause."

"And how long did the Blood Warrior wait after our brother's body was cold before he invaded the city?" Kendall continued. Her gaze turned to her two fledges. "Marcius?"

The blonde-haired man inhaled slowly, his expression remaining calm. "Not long after, my lady," he answered. "He came to us in a time of need and kept us all safe. We would not have been as prepared for the enemy's attacks without his military experience."

Kendall's brow furrowed and she glanced to her brothers to see if either of them believed it was a lie.

"I am not here to discuss the past," Seren said, changing the subject off the blood feud between Hadrian and Count Dracula. "You mentioned there was an update in the predictions of omens for the prophecy. It is time you show your cards, children."

Nathaniel and Kearran both inhaled in the same moment Ranelle did. The dark-haired man glanced at his daughter with a quick wink before turning his attention to Seren. "Yes, of course, my lord." He waited for Thorne and Kendall to make themselves comfortable before he, too, sat down in his chair at the council table. He gestured the staff to offer the grand elders wine and refreshments as he prepared to tell them the latest developments.

"We have long been under the assumption that young Avalon Mezdor was our Dark Child to present to the Capitol and the Tribunal. But, it seems we were amiss in thinking the scrolls found in Alexandria were complete. The Blood Warrior has come back to the fold and has revealed to our council that there is more to the parchment we were unaware of before. And in recent nights, we have been finding out more."

"How so?" Seren goaded him to continue, his voice still calm. He stroked his chin for a moment, listening intently.

"We thought the first-born child of the son of Dracula would be our savior," Nathaniel said, waving for two of the men who stood nearby to come forward, "but it turns out there is only one specific heritage as the key to the Dark Child."

One of the coven members carried the piece of parchment from Scotland, carefully preserved in between two pieces of glass, and laid it on the table in front of the grand elders. Seconds after, the other half from Egypt was placed beside it, also displayed in glass.

Seren read it first, frowning for a moment in a look of surprise. "'The Blood Warrior shall find the Dark Child in the waiting hands of the Red Rose. Clothed in crimson and noble in blood, the Rose is a symbol of righteousness and peace, born into the Night by the blood of an Elder. ...She is the Faire light to show the way to the Dark Child,'" he read aloud. He looked up at the pair at the opposite end of the table, his eyes going from Logan to Ranelle. "And here I had never given Hadrian's pet names much merit beyond his own spite."

"What did you say?" Kendall asked, leaning over her younger brother's shoulder to see the aged paper for herself.

"I'm assuming that there is more to this than just the coincidence of names. Is there relevance to the Faire bloodline?" Seren asked, still remaining calm.

Ranelle inhaled an uneasy breath, afraid to speak. She hadn't heard her own surname in centuries. It had died with her mortal life. Anna Faire-Linhall was long since dead. She was only known as Ranelle Linhall in her immortal life, and now as Ranelle Mezdor.

"Well?" Thorne snapped when no one spoke. The single word was enough to make Logan bristle in anger.

"Yes, my lord," Nathaniel chose to break the silence from their side of the room. He glanced at the petite auburn-brunette two chairs away. "We believe it stems from the telling that the Dark Child would be from a monarchy bloodline, as well as Dracula-blood."

Logan glanced at his wife to see her expression. He placed his hand on top of hers in silent support.

"I'm the daughter of a king who forgot my name..."

The voice echoed through his memories as if she had just spoken the words aloud for the first time. He remembered watching her stare at the paper in her hands, the English seal prominent in the letterhead. Her dark hair was longer, carefully arranged on her shoulders, and her skin was flushed from days in the sunshine. She'd looked so young then, her fragile, human mortality obvious. The white-and-red gown she wore barely hid her condition that boasted she was a mother of two while a ring adorned her left hand with delicate gold detailing.

"...I shouldn't have expected them to aid us. Who would know me now?"

"I never considered that a young woman in our midst would bring us such fortune. Seems that Dracula was careful to keep more secrets from us than we thought," Seren continued the conversation, passing the artifact to Thorne when his eldest sibling reached for it. His gaze softened as it fell on the petite auburn fledgling.

"Typical. Our brother was right to suspect such deception from the Count from the very beginning," his sister scoffed.

"And I should have seen right through his utter horse shit," Thorne snarled. "No wonder why he led us right to Linhall. He knew what we were looking for before we even realized."

Ranelle's eyes closed as she tried not to cringe. The deaths of her human husband and children played through her mind again.

"We should count ourselves lucky we now hold the truth of the prophecy. With our actions, we safeguarded his secrets unknowingly. The king of England had enough enemies then, even when his bloodline was hidden behind other families. It fits the omens. The witch said we were looking for the Emperor when she drew the cards. And now we have a clearer picture of our past and future. It's been too long since we have been close to uniting this world again," Seren went on, his tone remaining calm.

"I still can't believe you buy into the lies of witches," Kendall simpered from his opposite side. "She told us nothing useful."

Thorne's brow furrowed as he finished reading the second half of the prophecy scroll, its yellowed and weathered surface reminding him how long they had endured the conflict between Shadow Stalkers and Moon Worshippers. "And to think we've had the piece of the puzzle right under our very noses this entire time. I've waited centuries to end this gods-forsaken war," the grand elder said, exasperated. His dark eyes shot over to Ranelle with a cold look. "How long have you known about this?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I just learned of it myself, my lord," she answered truthfully. "I did not know there was more to the prophecy beyond what we uncovered in Egypt."

Seren took the piece back from his eldest brother and began to compare the first half to it. "We should have asked the oracles to predict a year when we had the witch reveal the players. Perhaps that would have given us more insight into whom we were looking for beyond the one woman who would give a Dracula-son a child."

"I apologize, my lords and lady. We failed you in providing better information in the decades before," Nathaniel replied. "But now that the true players of the prophecy have been revealed, we must keep them safe and defended from our enemies. Attacks have become more and more common across Europe and the Middle East. Two weeks ago, a Moon Worshipper confessed to Kearran that they had come to kill in the name of the prophecy. They know the boy or the Blood Warrior is here. I pray that we do not let the information of the second piece of the prophecy fall into their hands. The Mezdor family must be protected at all costs until the true Dark Child is confirmed by the High Council and the coven."

Thorne looked from his fledge to Ranelle again. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Are you with-child?"

The woman's jaw clenched as she continued to stare at him. Admitting their secret would make the danger real and present.

"You heard me, girl. Stand up!" Thorne barked, his voice loud and forceful.

Logan gripped his wife's arm, giving the man a harsh glare.

Before he could speak to defend her, Ranelle touched his hand. Once he met her gaze, she nodded. It would be okay. She inhaled a shaky breath before looking to the grand elders as they stared at her. She slowly pushed back from the table and stood, her blazer falling open to reveal the modest baby bump at her waist.

"My gods," Seren said, his eyebrows rising. The youngest Winslow sibling looked up at Thorne, surprised the man had nothing to say. "Brother, surely you would agree that they must be put into hiding."

Ranelle sat again, careful to pull her coat around her middle as she settled in her chair. She inhaled a small breath when Logan immediately placed his hand back on hers. She met his gaze, worried.

Logan nodded shortly, hoping the gesture encouraged her.

Thorne groaned from the back of his throat. "I should have known Vlad the Impaler was concealing details of his prophecy. But of course, it is revealed when the war is on our doorsteps throughout the world," he said at last. "We will make plans in order to share this information with the High Council and decide upon some location for the child."

"Then send the girl back to Italy," Kendall admonished, annoyed. "If the Dark Child is only to be the first-born of the Blood Warrior and Brother's progeny, then we must disconnect the lock from the key. We would be foolish to keep them together."

Logan frowned, shaking his head immediately. "No. That is out of the question. I'm not letting you separate us."

"You don't have a say, Blood Warrior. You brought this problem to us and now you will allow us to solve it," Kendall reprimanded.

Thorne nodded in agreement with his sibling. "Planned or not, this child is set to be everything we have strived for since the beginning of the clans. You will defer to our wisdom."

"The enemy will be waiting for such an arrival at the Capitol," Seren pointed out as he continued to look over the scroll pieces in front of him. He didn't seem to mind that his words cut their verbal fight short. There would be time for fighting later, and against their common enemy. "If the Moon Worshippers know of the boy's existence, I wouldn't be surprised if they think he is still the Dark Child. Any child or woman with-child coming and going could be enough to spark interest in their intelligence community, even under careful disguises. We would need to move them with the upmost care. I am not willing to risk walking them through the town square and then the front doors."

"She's kept her condition secret from you this long, Brother. Are you saying she could not be smuggled into our own stronghold?" his sister asked sarcastically. "Send them in opposite directions of one another should we choose to hide both."

"I refuse to let you separate us," Logan stated again. He rose from his chair, ready to act. "My family is not to be taken apart again. I have already had you destroy my home once by taking my son from me. You will not take her from me, too."

Nathaniel also stood, giving Logan a silent look to take his seat again. When the Blood Warrior obliged, he turned his attention back to his maker. "Lord Thorne, rather than separating the Mezdors, can we not send them from coven to coven in order to hide them? There are many small houses that remain under the radar of our enemy. I could make arrangements for them to travel from city to city until they are safely out of Worshippers' grasps," he proposed. "There are still outposts and emergency routes they could be secreted through until they're safely within the Capitol's walls."

"I would volunteer my Shadow services and men to accompany them," Kearran added.

"As would I," Marcius agreed. "On the vows of the Vanguard."

Kendall looked from one of her progenies to the other. Before she could say something to the two, Thorne spoke:

"Done. Make the arrangements. But I will approve them before they are carried out. I think you children have proven you are incapable of running the North without preventing certain measures," he stated, his voice cold but calm. "Such as grand elders being murdered in the city streets, attacks on the main coven house, letting Dracula-blood back into the city despite the stipulations of the treaty and without permission, and keeping something as monumental as the true Dark Child secret," he said, his eyes passing over each of the fledgling class one by one. "Are we understood?"

"Yes, my lord," all of the Winslow fledges responded.

Logan clenched his teeth again, but held his tongue. He was not theirs to command.

"Good. I'm pleased to hear we are all back on the same page again," Thorne said cooly as he stood.

"We've made up your rooms for each of you on the Winslow floor," Vincent spoke up from his rare silent streak. "You are welcome to make yourselves at home once more and freshen up before dinner."

"Excellent idea," Seren agreed with the Italian as he rose to his feet and placed the parchment pieces back onto the table.

"Yes, I'm going to need a break from these children before I lose my nerve," Kendall said, her tone snippy. She looked to Thorne as he turned to go, not giving the fledglings the dignity of another disparaging comment on their performance.

When the two elder Winslow siblings left, Seren glanced down at the young girl beside him who had sat in well-behaved silence for the duration of the talk. "Psst," he said, making her glance up at him again. He winked and nodded his head towards her parents. When she grinned up at him, he turned to go as well.

Elizabeth got up from her seat and smoothed her dress before walking towards her parents in the same hurried steps that Kearran and Nathaniel made. "Hi, Mum," she greeted as Kearran wrapped her into a tight hug. She pulled back in time to hug her father. "Hi, Papa. I've missed you both!" she added, grinning.