Bloodlines of the Damned

The Edge of Loyalty

The day after the confrontation at the Valerian academy, the atmosphere is heavy. The Full Moon Ceremony is only a few hours away, and the students are busy preparing. The purebloods are caught up in their own circles, practicing the formal vows they'll make to their bloodlines. Lyra, as usual, keeps to herself. Vane, however, can't quite shake off the strange pull he feels toward her.

POV: Lyra's perspective

Lyra sat by herself in the courtyard, her back against the stone wall of the academy's old library, watching the shadows stretch across the manicured lawn. The academy was buzzing with excitement for the Full Moon Ceremony tonight. Everyone was talking about it—well, everyone but her.

Half-bloods weren't allowed to attend. Not that she cared.

She picked at the hem of her sleeve, eyes drifting to the horizon. There was a heavy weight in the air, thick with the unspoken politics of the vampire world. The purebloods would make their vows, swear loyalty to their families, and reaffirm their dominance. The rest of them? Just spectators, invisible.

"You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Lyra jumped at the voice, and her heart skipped when she saw Vane standing there, leaning casually against the stone pillar next to her.

"Vane," she muttered, trying to act surprised but failing miserably. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, the usual arrogance in his posture softened by something unreadable in his eyes. "I could ask you the same thing. Sitting out here like... well, like you don't care about the most important night of the year."

Lyra glanced at him, trying to figure out if he was mocking her. His expression was a mix of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I'm not a part of it," she replied, shrugging. "Why should I care?"

Vane pushed himself off the pillar and sat beside her, keeping a small distance between them. He didn't speak for a moment, just stared at the academy's dark towers, where all the important people were gathered.

"You're more than just 'not a part of it,' Lyra." His voice was quieter now, less mocking, more... genuine? "You're invisible. No one even notices you, not unless they're using you for something."

Lyra felt a sting at his words, but she didn't let it show. "Yeah, well, it's better that way. Less trouble."

There was a pause before Vane spoke again, his gaze flicking to her briefly. "I don't know if that's true."

She tilted her head, frowning. "What do you mean?"

Vane didn't answer immediately. Instead, he let out a low, almost inaudible sigh. "Look, I'm not going to pretend like we're friends, but..." He hesitated, then glanced at her again, his eyes darker than usual. "I know what it's like to feel like you're stuck between worlds. To not belong anywhere."

Lyra turned to face him, studying his profile. He was... opening up? This wasn't the Vane she'd seen around school—the aloof, untouchable heir to House Erebus. This was someone else. Someone human.

"But you belong to House Erebus," Lyra said softly, the words tasting bitter in her mouth. "You've got power. Respect. Everything you could want."

He didn't meet her gaze. Instead, he stared at the ground, his lips curling into a tight, almost painful smile. "That's the problem. Power means nothing if you don't get to decide how you use it."

Lyra's brow furrowed in confusion. "You make no sense. Why are you telling me this? I thought you hated half-bloods."

Vane stiffened, but he didn't pull away. "I don't hate them," he muttered. "I just... don't understand them. I don't understand you." He glanced at her, his eyes searching. "You don't act like the others. The ones who beg for scraps from the purebloods or cower in the corners when they're insulted."

Lyra looked away, the discomfort creeping up her neck. "I don't beg. And I don't cower." She added the last part a little more fiercely than she meant to.

Vane raised an eyebrow, amused by her sudden defensiveness. "You've got fire, I'll give you that."

"Fire," she repeated, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It's all I've got."

The silence stretched between them, but it was a comfortable one—oddly so. After a few moments, Vane stood up, brushing off his pants.

"You're right about one thing, though," he said, his tone lighter. "Tonight isn't about us. It's about them. The purebloods. But I wouldn't expect anything else. Not here. Not at Noctis."

Lyra watched him with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. "So, you're not going to go to the ceremony?"

Vane hesitated. "I'll be there. It's expected of me. But that doesn't mean I'm going to like it."

"Then why do it?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.

Vane turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Because the alternative is worse. If I don't play along, I'll be discarded. My family won't have it any other way." His eyes softened ever so slightly, but only for a moment. "Not all of us are lucky enough to choose our path."

Lyra swallowed. There was something in his voice—something that felt... real. Honest, in a way she hadn't expected from him.

Before she could respond, a familiar voice called from across the courtyard. It was Selena, flanked by Ariana and Camille, her usual entourage.

"There you are, Vane," Selena's voice was sweet, but there was a clear undertone of command. "We've been looking all over for you. Father's waiting for you inside. The ceremony's about to start."

Vane's face stiffened at the mention of his father, and for a moment, his whole demeanor shifted back to that detached, cold mask he wore so well. He turned to Lyra one last time before stepping away, his eyes lingering on her with an unreadable expression.

"See you around, half-blood," he said, his voice as casual as ever, though there was something different about it now.

Lyra didn't know what to say. She just nodded, watching as he walked toward his group, slipping back into his role as the heir to House Erebus.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted, though. Maybe she hadn't been the only one who'd been thinking about their conversation.