Chapter 49 The Church
Stella's POV
"Mom?" Lyra's voice breaks on the word.
I stare at the woman standing beside Morgana. She looks exactly like the photos Lyra keeps hidden in her drawer the ones she thinks I don't know about.
Elena Thorne. Our mother. Dead for three years.
Except she's not dead. She's right there.
"This is impossible," Lyra whispers.
"Many impossible things have happened lately," Morgana says calmly. "May we come in? We have much to discuss."
Kaelen blocks the door. "How do we know this isn't a trick? Shapeshifters exist. Illusion magic—"
"It's really me, baby." Mom's voice is exactly as I remember—soft and warm. "I know you keep my nursing textbooks under your bed. I know Stella's favorite stuffed animal is the rabbit I made her when she was five. I know you hate the scar on your ankle from when you fell off your bike at age seven."
Lyra's legs give out. I catch her before she falls.
"You died," Lyra says. "I saw your body. We had a funeral"
"You saw what Thaddeus wanted you to see." Mom steps forward carefully. "He tried to kill me when he discovered I had moonblood. But Morgana saved me. Took me into hiding while we waited for the right moment to return."
"Three years!" Lyra's voice rises. "Three years I thought you were dead! Three years I struggled alone, trying to keep Stella alive"
"I know." Mom's face crumples. "And I'm sorry. So, so sorry. But if Thaddeus knew I survived, he would have hunted all of us. The only way to keep you safe was to stay hidden."
"We weren't safe! We were poor, desperate, alone—"
"But alive." Morgana's voice cuts through the argument. "Which is more than you would have been if Elena returned too soon. Thaddeus had spies everywhere. He would have found her."
Lyra is shaking, and I don't know if it's from rage or relief or shock. Maybe all three.
"Why now?" Kaelen asks the smart question. "Why reveal yourself now?"
"Because everything has changed," Mom says. "Lyra's mark, the hybrid transformation, the bonds you've created you're more powerful than even Thaddeus anticipated. Strong enough that we can finally fight back."
"Fight back against what?" I ask quietly.
Everyone looks at me like they forgot I was there.
Mom kneels down to my level. "Oh, sweetheart. You've grown so much." Her eyes fill with tears. "I'm so sorry I missed it."
I want to run to her. Want to hug her and never let go.
But three years is a long time. And the mom I remember wouldn't have left us alone.
"We need to leave," I say instead. "Can we have this reunion somewhere safer?"
Morgana smiles. "The child is wise. Yes. I know a place."
The church is abandoned, hidden deep in the forest outside the city. We enter through a broken side door into darkness and cold.
My legs give out halfway to the altar. The power I used on the yacht drained me completely, and my illness is hitting hard.
"Stella!" Lyra catches me, but she's exhausted too.
Before I can protest, Kaelen lifts me gently. "Rest. I'll carry you."
I'm too tired to argue. I lay my head against his shoulder, and through our bond, I feel his concern mixing with affection.
He carries me to a pew that's less dusty than the others and sets me down carefully.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"Always." He sits beside me, and I'm surprised when he doesn't move away. Just stays close, like he's guarding me.
Lyra and Mom are talking in urgent whispers across the church. I can't hear what they're saying, but I feel Lyra's confusion through our bond.
"Is she really our mom?" I ask Kaelen quietly.
"I believe so. Morgana wouldn't lie about something this important." His mercury eyes study Mom carefully. "But your sister is right to be cautious. Three years is a long time to stay hidden."
"You were alone for four hundred years," I point out.
"That's different."
"How?"
He's quiet for a long moment. "Because I chose to be alone. Your mother was forced to hide. She wanted to come back but couldn't."
"Does that make it better or worse?"
"I don't know." His hand finds mine. "But I know your sister needs time to process this. And so do you."
He's right. I should be happy Mom's alive. Thrilled.
Instead, I just feel confused and tired and a little bit angry.
Through my drowsy state, I hear Kaelen start humming softly. It's a melody I've never heard before—ancient and sad and beautiful.
"What's that song?" I mumble.
"A lullaby. My mother used to sing it, before..." He stops. "Before she died. Really died, not fake-died like yours."
Even exhausted, I catch the bitterness in his voice.
"I'm sorry you lost her," I say.
"I'm sorry you lost yours. Even if she came back." He keeps humming, and the sound is comforting. "Sleep, Stella. I'll keep watch."
My eyes drift closed.
For the first time in days, I feel almost safe.
I wake to screaming.
The church is on fire. Flames climb the walls, consuming centuries-old wood.
"Stella!" Lyra's voice, panicked.
I sit up to find chaos. Vampires everywhere enforcers, extremists, all of them surrounding us.
And standing at the altar, smiling, is someone I recognize from history books.
Dracula. The original vampire. The one Morgana supposedly killed a thousand years ago.
Except he's not dead either.
"Hello, mother," he says to Morgana. "Miss me?"
His eyes sweep across us, and when they land on me, his smile widens.
"And here's the moonblood child. Perfect. I've been waiting for you, little one."
He moves faster than thought, crossing the church in a blink.
Kaelen tries to block him, but Dracula swats him aside like an insect.
Before anyone can stop him, his hand closes around my throat.
"The prophecy spoke of a moonblood child who would bridge two worlds," he purrs. "But what the prophecy didn't say is that she would also have the power to destroy them both."
He lifts me off the ground, and I can't breathe. Can't fight.
"Let her go!" Lyra screams.
"Gladly. Right after I drain every drop of her blood and use it to wake my army of ancient vampires." His fangs extend toward my throat. "Sweet dreams, bridge-maker."
Through the bond, I feel Kaelen's rage and Lyra's terror.
And I realize with crushing certainty:
This is how I die.