Hours later, the stillness of my private chambers felt heavy, punctuated only by the soft, ragged breaths of Krista and Kilian. After what felt like an eternity, I watched as Krista stirred fitfully on the bed. Her brow furrowed, whimpering sounds escaping her lips. Tears tracked paths down her pale cheeks, even with her eyes still closed, as if she were wrestling with an invisible tormentor. She thrashed slightly, a low moan escaping her lips, and I could only stand by, helpless, observing the raw pain etched on her face. A dream, I realized, one that clearly held her captive.
Then, her eyes fluttered open, wide and disoriented. She was breathing heavily, a visible tremor running through her.
"Mom, are you alright?" Kilian's voice was filled with a tender worry I hadn't seen before. He leaned closer to her, his hand gently on her arm.
"I'm fine now. How about you?" she whispered, her voice raspy. She reached out, checking his arm, and a flicker of surprise crossed her face.
Kilian grinned, a flash of boyish charm that was unsettlingly familiar. "Guess it's one of the perks of being part-vampire." His wounds, inflicted by Marcus and Jeremy, were already fading, healing at an impossible rate for a human.
Part-vampire. My son. The implications were immense, terrifying. And exhilarating.
"Since when have you figured it out?" Krista asked him.
"A long time ago. I've always known I wasn't normal," Kilian said calmly. "Well, you never said anything so I didn't pry."
"I'm sorry. Even if I wanted to say something, I didn't know what to say. I had suspicions but I wasn't sure of it. I was waiting for your father to say something, but he never did."
"Yeah. He lied to us both." Kilian's voice held a sad tone, yet there was no bitterness. "But I forgive him. He took care of us and treated me like his own son. He protected us. We'll always be a family."
A warmth spread through me, a strange mix of relief and profound regret. He had a father, a man who loved him. A family. And it wasn't me.
"We should leave now. He must be worried about us." She spoke of her human husband, and a sharp jealousy pierced through me.
"Leave? Why?" Christian asked, stepping forward as he, Jeremy, Ethan, and Marcus, having entered silently, now stood in the room. His honeyed voice held genuine surprise. "Are you really leaving again?"
"Even if I wanted to, will you let us go just like that?" Her tone was sarcastic, challenging.
"We would have. But I found this," I said, stepping forward, my gaze fixed on her. I walked slowly toward them, reaching into my pocket, pulling out the necklace I'd found in her belongings. The silver pendant, cold against my skin, seemed to burn with a forgotten light. I gently placed it on the bedside table. It was Maria's. "This is yours. Right, Krista?"
She stared at me, her eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, I saw a flicker of something, a deep sense of familiarity that drew her in. She averted her gaze, saying nothing.
"Let's stop playing games. Why did you come back?" I began, the years of unanswered questions, the agony of her disappearance, bubbling to the surface. "We looked everywhere for you. How can you not even send a hint that you were alive for the past seventeen years?" My voice cracked at that last word, the raw pain tearing through my carefully constructed composure. She very quickly turned to face me again, and the sadness was evident in my eyes, mirrored by hers.
"It's not my mother's fault," Kilian said, stepping in front of her. "She got in an accident seventeen years ago and lost her memories."
The world spun. Amnesia. Not betrayal. Not revenge. Not deliberate abandonment. She hadn't remembered. All these years... My mind raced, trying to process the enormity of this new truth.
"Really? What happened?" Jeremy asked, his voice losing its accusatory edge, replaced by genuine curiosity. "What about Philip and Anita?"
"It was a car accident. I don't know anything about a Philip and Anita," Kilian answered.
"The names are familiar to me." Krista's quiet voice broke through my thoughts. Then, a spark ignited in her eyes, a dawning realization. "Adam is most probably Philip. And my new name, Annie, must be short for Anita. That means she must have died."
"Wait, so dad's name isn't Adam but Philip?" Kilian asked, looking at her, confused.
"Dad?" Christian sounded genuinely surprised, his gaze flicking between Krista and Kilian. "You married him?" he asked her directly.
"When mom and dad came to town, mom was already pregnan—" Kilian began, innocent, about to reveal the ultimate truth.
Krista grabbed his hand, cutting him off, but it was too late. My breath hitched.
My gaze, intense and unyielding, locked onto Krista. The truth was screaming in my mind. Kilian's pureblood speed, his red eyes from before, his uncanny resemblance to me, the timing… "How can you not tell me about my own son?" My voice was a low growl, laced with a raw possessiveness I couldn't contain.
Her annoyance was palpable. "How can you be so sure he's your son?" she challenged, her voice sharp.
"Because you loved only me." My voice was quiet, a statement and a question, a vulnerable admission and a desperate plea.
Her eyes, now welling with tears, fixed on me. "And in the end, you broke my heart and pushed me away." Her voice trembled. "I remembered something before waking up. It was a bad memory. You said it was wrong to be together and that even our friendship was a mistake."
The other purebloods were silent, their faces etched with guilt. They avoided her gaze. My own heart twisted. Her memory, fractured, had returned to the worst moment, confirming my deepest regrets. "I'm sorry. I regretted it the moment you walked away." I reached for her hand, taking it gently, holding it between both of mine, pleading with my eyes. "Will you forgive me?"
She looked at me, her expression vulnerable. "I can't answer that. Not right now. I don't even remember you. I don't remember my feelings for you. I don't remember the pain I felt. So, how can I forgive you?"
"You don't have to forgive me right away. I'll make it up to you. I'll protect you, if you let me." I pleaded, my pride stripped bare.
"No." Kilian's voice, cold and firm, echoed my own. He grabbed my hand, pushing it away from his mother's. "We don't need your protection."
"Son. Give me a chance. Please." My voice cracked, begging.
"We've been doing fine without you. For seventeen years, we were happy without you." He told me flatly, his words a painful knife twist. "We'll survive without you for a couple more years."
"Kilian, don't be rude to your own father," Christian interjected, stepping forward. "We really tried to find Krista after she left. But everything was in total chaos. The orphanage was burned to the ground and your mother and Philip and Anita were suddenly accused of treason against the Church." He explained, then faced Krista directly. "We heard you three were the ones who set fire to the orphanage. Do you have any recollection of it? Can you remember why?"
"No, I can't," Krista replied, shaking her head. "But I came here with a woman named Maria. She said she was one of the children at the orphanage at that time. She said she needed my help. I don't know where she is now though."
"I think you need to stay here for the time being," Marcus said, his earlier aggression replaced by a thoughtful calm. "It must have been something important. There's no way you did what you did without a good reason. You'll have to regain your memories."
"Great." Christian smiled, a hint of his old warmth returning. "We'll help you."