Blood Of The Moonlit Rose

The smoke clings to me like a second skin, its acrid bite searing my lungs with every ragged breath. My village is gone—reduced to a pyre of ash and screams under a sky choked with embers. I fled barefoot through the forest, thorns tearing at my soles, my heart a shattered thing pounding with the weight of loss. Papa's laugh, my brother's sticky fingers clutching mine—gone. Mama's lullaby about the moonblooded, a tale I once mocked, now haunts me, her voice a ghost in the wind. I don't know where I'm running, only that the golden eyes in the flames drove me here, to the edge of this cursed place.The Rose Estate rises before me, a monolith of shadow and stone, its arches draped with crimson roses that glow unnaturally in the moonlight. I collapse against the wall, the cold stone biting into my palms, my body trembling from exhaustion and grief. Tears burn my eyes, but I choke them back. Crying won't bring them back. The air hums with a strange sweetness, the roses' scent mingling with the smoke, and I swear I feel them watching me, their petals quivering as if alive.A rustle shatters the silence. I shrink back, my breath catching as a figure steps from the gloom. He's tall, his black suit clinging to him like a predator's hide, his dark hair slicked back with an elegance that feels out of place. His eyes—red as fresh blood against the pale moon—lock onto mine, and my heart stumbles. Vampire. The word slithers into my mind, a whisper from childhood tales, and instinct screams to run. But his voice stops me, a velvet caress that coils around my fear."You're wounded," he says, kneeling with a grace that unnerves me. His gaze traces the blood on my legs, and I flinch, scooting away. "I mean no harm. I am Elias, lord of this estate. What drives you to my threshold?"My voice breaks as I answer, "My village… it burned. I—I had nowhere else." The memory of those howls, the flash of golden eyes, claws me raw, and I clench my fists to keep from shattering.His lips twitch, a ghost of a smile that doesn't warm those crimson eyes. "The world is a butcher to the lost. Come inside. The roses will guard you tonight." There's a command in his tone, but also a promise, and my weary legs obey before I can think.He leads me through the archway, the roses brushing my arms with a warmth that sends shivers down my spine. One petal grazes my cheek, leaving a sticky red streak, and I gasp, rubbing at it. The estate's interior unfolds like a dream—gaslit chandeliers sputter over faded tapestries, their threads unraveling like forgotten secrets. The floor creaks underfoot, a low moan that echoes my dread. Elias gestures to a velvet chair, its fabric worn but soft, and I sink into it, my hands trembling in my lap."Who did this?" he asks, pouring a dark liquid into a crystal glass. It's not wine—too rich, too metallic—and my stomach turns as he offers it to me."I don't know," I whisper, my voice a thread. "Shadows in the fire. Beasts. I heard howls." The image of those eyes flares again, and I shudder, my fingers brushing his as I take the glass. A jolt sears through me, electric and wild, and I nearly drop it, my breath hitching. He watches me, his gaze a weight I can't shake."You're more than you seem," he murmurs, stepping closer, his presence filling the room. "The roses sing to you. Can you feel it?"I shake my head, but he's right—a hum pulses in my veins, syncing with the roses' rhythm outside. Then it hits me—a vision so vivid it steals my breath. Mama stands in our kitchen, her face gaunt, pressing a silver locket into my hand. "You're moonblooded, Sera," she whispers, her eyes glistening with fear. "When the roses call, run to them." The locket burns against my chest, and the vision fades, leaving me gasping in the chair."What was that?" I demand, clutching the locket, its edges digging into my palm.Elias's eyes narrow, a flicker of something—curiosity, hunger?—crossing his face. "A memory, or a prophecy. You carry the blood of the moon, Seraphina. Rare. Powerful. And hunted."Before I can grasp his words, a howl rips through the night, closer, fiercer. The roses outside tremble, their petals rustling like a warning. Elias's head snaps toward the window, his jaw tightening. "They've found you," he says, his voice a blade. "Werewolves. They'll claim your power."Panic claws at me, but before I can move, the door explodes inward. A man storms in—broad-shouldered, his wild hair streaked with moonlight, a jagged scar slicing across his chest where his shirt hangs open. His amber eyes glow, fierce yet soft as they find me, and the scent of pine and damp earth washes over me. Werewolf. My heart lurches, drawn to him despite the danger."Step away from her, vampire," he growls, his voice rough but laced with a warmth that unsettles me. "She's not yours to cage.""Seraphina is under my protection, Kael," Elias retorts, positioning himself between us. The air thickens, crackling with their enmity, and I feel it—a pull, a thread tugging my heart toward both of them, confusing and undeniable."I'm no one's prize!" I shout, rising on shaky legs, my voice trembling with defiance. But the words ring hollow as the roses outside begin to weep. Crimson drops slide down the windowpane, mirroring the stain on my cheek, and a voice—not mine, not theirs—whispers in my mind: The blood of the moon will choose. The room spins, my vision blurring, and I stagger, clutching the chair.Kael lunges toward Elias, his claws glinting, but before they collide, the roses' bleeding intensifies, pooling on the floor like a river of blood. A shadow moves beyond the glass—golden eyes, the same from the fire—and a guttural snarl echoes. Darkness swallows me as I fall, the last sound a scream torn from my throat, unanswered in the night.