Prophecy

Chapter 59: Zechariah

*Grace's POV*

The past two days had been a whirlwind of tension and relief after our battle with War in the city and Famine in that desolate yet enormous farmland. My mind still reeled from the intensity of it all, but the dawn of a new day brought a strange sense of calm. Xavia took care of me in ways I never knew I needed, and that care kept us sleeping late into the afternoon.

I loved the way she loved me, and honestly... I couldn't get enough of all of her—blood and all.

I could live off the taste of it alone.

Before Luna and Amy took off to go back home, wherever that was, I was able to have a moment alone with the pureblood vampyre. I didn't even have enough time to actually say the words before she spoke them for me. The purple-eyed being mentioned how she knew I had tasted my mate. Not just because of our mark but because she could smell Xavia's blood in me.

I was fascinated by that comment, and... I wanted to know more about this odd need of mine.

I wanted to understand why I craved it so, especially since I wasn't a species who typically would drink off another... or at least, that's what I had thought. Luna told me what her parents told her long ago about mates and how their blood is literally made for them.

When a vampyre first tastes the lifeblood of its chosen mate, no other sustenance can ever compare. The mere touch of that blood upon the tongue ignites an insatiable hunger, a craving that eclipses all others, but it's not a hunger that means to harm or kill—it's to survive. It is not uncommon for vampyres of an ancient lineage to abstain from any other blood, denying themselves until they can once again partake in the nectar that is their mate's essence.

Luna told me she drank animal blood until the day she found her mate; she didn't want any other blood until she found the person destined for her.

Her action is honorable and beautiful.

To consume a mate's blood is to draw upon a wellspring of strength; the very essence of their being infuses the vampyre with power unlike any other. This act is more than mere sustenance; it is a ritual that binds their souls together, a connection that grows deeper with each drop consumed. In the annals of their kind, there are countless tales of vampyres who have become unstoppable forces upon tasting their mate's blood; their strength magnified tenfold, their senses sharpened to a deadly edge.

The bond between mates is not bound by the limitations of species; it transcends all, forging a connection that is both spiritual and physical. This ancient and sacred bond holds sway over even the most powerful of beings. For a vampyre, the mate bond is an unbreakable tether, pulling them inexorably toward their beloved, no matter the distance or the danger.

Most vampyres choose death should their mate pass—to live without their other half is a pain worse than death itself.

With everything Luna told me, I've come to a conclusion...

Though I am not born of vampyric blood, my body cries out for Xavia's, driven by a need as primal as it is profound. My mate's blood is my sustenance, my strength, my very essence. Just as the ancient vampyres were bound to their mates through the sacred act of blood-sharing, so too am I bound to her, my existence intertwined with hers in a bond that defies the very laws of nature.

And I'm more than happy with that.

I was thankful for the additional knowledge she had given me, and... I knew a lot from the books and the Hall of Records text, but... Luna was a pureblood; oddly enough, there wasn't actually text on her kind, and... I really just wanted the answers from her. Everything Luna told me made complete sense, and before they left, Luna gave me her information so my mate and I could keep in touch with them.