The heavy iron door of Bettina's cell opened without the usual scraping bolts, replaced by a smooth, almost silent mechanical hiss. This time, the robed guard was not alone.
A woman walked into the cell, and the frigid atmosphere instantly sharpened. She wore no robe, but a gown of deep crimson velvet, detailed with silver embroidery that mirrored the ancient symbols Bettina had seen etched in the stone walls. She was devastatingly beautiful, with the sharp, predatory features and dark hair Bettina had glimpsed through the crack. Her face was cold, perfectly sculpted, and her eyes—a striking, pure amethyst color—looked at Bettina with the cold, scientific curiosity of a predator observing prey.
Bettina knew instantly that this was the woman from the crack. More importantly, she knew this woman was in command.
"Welcome, Bettina," the woman said, her voice smooth and carrying an innate authority that demanded silence. "I am Queen Sybil. I am Erich's mother, and I am the one who arranged your removal."
Bettina's shock was total. Erich's mother. The connection felt like a physical blow. She forced herself to stand, refusing to show fear. "Why?" Bettina demanded, her voice shaking only slightly. "Why go to such lengths? What did I ever do to you?"
Queen Sybil did not move, letting her eyes travel over Bettina's frame, from her worn student jeans to her fearful face. "You did nothing, Bettina. Your flaw is simply yournature. You are human. You are ordinary, and therefore, you are chaos in our line."
"Chaos?"
"My son, Erich, is a creature of immense power," Sybil stated, her tone shifting to one of detached, political analysis. "He is the only known Triple Hybrid—Vampire, Werewolf, and Witch. That is a dangerous combination, volatile and unprecedented. The High Council has spent centuries ensuring the purity of each bloodline. Erich's father is a pure Vampire King; I am a pure Werewolf-Witch hybrid. But Erich holds it all, unchecked. His power is meant to lead us, but it must be controlled."
Sybil took one slow step closer. "When we learned he had formed an attachment to a human—a vessel so fragile, so easily broken, so completely outside the laws of our realm—we saw the ultimate point of instability. You are the perfect poison. Your love forces his power to fracture and behave emotionally."
Bettina felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the stone cell. "You think love is chaos?"
"In our world, yes. It is a weakness. We didn't kidnap you out of hatred, Bettina. We did it to force Erich to accept his destiny and our control." Sybil finally allowed a cold smile to touch her lips. "Your capture has triggered the Trial of Lineage."
Bettina frowned, confused. "The Trial of Lineage? What is that?"
"It is the ancient challenge for any prospective King who is deemed unfit or whose behavior threatens the entire supernatural community. The Trial is a series of deadly tests across the ancestral lands, ending here, at the Citadel. If he completes them, he proves his fitness to rule and earns the right to negotiate your release. If he fails, his power is stripped, and he is permanently banished."
"And if he refuses to take this… this Trial?" Bettina asked, hoping to find a loophole.
Queen Sybil's amethyst eyes hardened, and the beautiful mask of her face turned to stone. "Then you die, Bettina. It is the King's Price. If he abandons the Trial to simply rescue you by force, we will consider it an act of aggression against the Council. And the first consequence of that aggression will be your execution."
The cold finality of the word hung in the damp air. Bettina realized the true horror: Erich had been given a choice, and both paths—Trial or Rescue—were designed to destroy either his future or her life.
Sybil turned, her velvet gown rustling softly against the stone. "He will come. His nature compels him. The Werewolf instinct will track you; the Vampire pride will accept the challenge; and the Witch will give him the cunning to plan. But the human heart he grew because of you will be his undoing."
Before Bettina could speak, the Queen stopped by the door and glanced back, a flicker of genuine worry briefly crossing her features. "He could have had anything. Power, immortality, respect. But he chose a girl who will soon force him to choose between her life and his throne. That is tragic, even by our standards."
The Queen stepped out, and the door hissed shut, leaving Bettina alone in the silence. The terror was gone, replaced by a steel resolve. She was not just a victim; she was the central, devastating pressure point in a thousand-year-old political struggle. Now that she knew the rules, she knew what she had to do to survive: she had to find a way to help Erich win the Trial of Lineage.