The underground labyrinth that doubled as the headquarters and official living space of the ruler of the vampires was opulent beyond compare. Gold inlaid walls and ceilings. Bejewelled one of a kind sculptures at every corner. Priceless paintings from the world's greatest artists. All of which remained hidden from public view except for a select few who were lucky, or unlucky enough to receive a summons. Those being rewarded for their work often walked the same path as those receiving punishment for failures. The nerve wreaking thing was one often never knew which it would be.

Seated in an armchair in one of the private rooms, the Duke of Havar was in an exceptionally good mood, which made his right hand man breathe a little deeper, his tense muscles relaxing ever so slightly. He was new to the job but hoped to retain the position for a long, long time.

The sinewy vampire thought back to the day he begged the duke for an audience while promising information of great worth. The duke had lazily acquiesced, already intending to peel the skin of the lowly vampire's frame for wasting his time but that hadn't been the case because the vampire had proven himself to his unpredictable leader.

Many months prior, he'd been a captive at the Unified Research Centre, where to his surprise, he had encountered Lanneta Bloodreign, the ousted queen of the vampires. The ex-leader of the vampires had not only fallen from grace many decades prior but was forced into hiding because of a ridiculously high bounty on her head courtesy of the duke himself. Needless to say, her presence had piqued his attention immediately.

When all hell broke loose in the prison, he made it a point to stick close to Lannetta and her blond-haired right hand man, hoping to escape along with them and then cash in on the bounty when the time was right, but to his incomprehension, the ex-leader of the vampires had tunnel-visioned upon finding a human scientist, the very one accountable for their eventual escape.

'It's him, it's him! We finally found him, Maxim! We must get to him!' The sinewy vampire was sure of Lannetta's words, uttered as he and several other vampires huddled nearby while searching for a way out. Once the werewolves broke through the security door, every supernatural had made a rush for it, eventually fleeing into the surrounding woods. In the chaos, he had lost track of Lannetta, which was terribly unfortunate, but undaunted, the conniving man made a beeline to see the current ruler of the vampires instead.

Now, he was the duke's assistant of sorts, and he never ceased marveling at how cunning his employer could be. The duke's latest plan of leaking the identity of Lannetta's current blood dealer to the werewolves was practical and satisfying, although not as straightforward to pull off as it seemed. For one thing, the info hadn't been easy to come by.

Plus, it wouldn't look good if the duke personally ordered her assasination since she was still a Bloodreign descendent, but if a bunch of wolves were to unwittingly do it for him? The duke could then cry for vengeance while effectively gaining the support of Lannetta's followers, all in one fell swoop.

Lannetta Bloodreign was an itch that Duke Orsan had chosen to ignore for decades, but for reasons unknown to his underlings, his interest in the vampire princess had suddenly spiked after her escape from imprisonment. All of a sudden, the duke had hordes of vampires searching to the ends of the earth for the elusive royal, offering millions in cash rewards for anyone who had information on her whereabouts. The duke's generosity quickly paid off, after which he ordered the anonymous dissemination of information to the wolves.

No doubt the loss of a blood dealer would inconvenience some vampires, but that was just too bad. What thrilled the sinewy vampire the most was the thought of those rotten dogs doing the bidding of their enemy without even realising they were being manipulated. It was a blissful feeling indeed.

The duke's initial disinterest in the former queen was understandable because regardless of her existence, he had the unequivocal support of vampiric high society and with such power he could easily set in motion his plan to rid all supernaturals, save of course for vampires, from the Americas. To the duke, this was his turf. Once the initial phase of his plans was done, the second phase would naturally follow: the systematic eradication of wolves and witches in the rest of the world.

Only when vampires were the only superior beings left could they begin enslaving those pesky humans and rule the Earth once more. This was the final and most important phase of the grand masterplan. Duke Orsan's right hand man fully supported this motion. He had long grown tired of vampires lurking in the shadows to hide their existence from such weak creatures and he was certain he wasn't the only one with these sentiments. Did a pack of lions ever cover in fear at the sight of grazing zebra? Of course not! So why should vampires hide themselves away? Preposterous!

The sinewy vampire broke away from his thoughts just as the duke turned his hawkish eyes towards his assistant. "What news?"

The vampire bowed before answering, "The blood dealer's mangled body was found at his usual trading spot. The werewolves seem to have dealt with the man and are on the move. Our spies think they have located Lannetta Bloodreign and are now closing in on her, Your Grace."

"Excellent." Duke Orsan broke into a rare smile, "We're in for quite the entertaining shitshow."

A few thousand miles away, in a fancy high rise office with killer views of the Manhattan cityscape, the atmosphere was frigid and getting increasingly glacial by the minute. Entirely clueless at being roped into Duke Orsan's insidious plans, Cedric Livingstone stared out the window of his office, expression grim while his nervous secretary continued with updates. The acting Clan Head and uncle of Chieftain Emerie Livingstone was a tough man to please on a normal day but to make things worse for the secretary, today was definitely not normal.

"Are you telling me that two of this clan's finest young wolves stole information from a vault on the same day that our strongest wolf foiled the operation to apprehend the vampire queen's blood dealer?" He said in a threateningly low voice once the secretary had finished.

"Yes s-sir," the man stuttered, "but our team managed to place a tracker on Gavin's car. We are monitoring him as we speak."

"Find out what was stolen from the vault, and get every able bodied elite squad member to Vegas now. I want them brought in alive. All three of them." The secretary scurried out, obviously relieved at the increased distance between himself and his boss. Cedric picked up the phone and dialled his niece. When she picked up, he answered gruffly while forgoing pleasantries, "Emerie, we have wolves going rogue, the Summers boy included."

Over at the bookstore, Andy pulled up to the curb just as the van Charlie was driving entered the venue's covered garage, his precious vampire cargo hidden in the back. Not long after, Gavin pulled up, still unaware of the tracking device stuck to the car. The werewolf, along with a shaken Hailey and a silent Aidan, entered the building with the precious keg of blood in tow. Emilia and Samaira took turns at the door ushering them down to the basement.

When Emilia caught sight of Aidan's harrowed look she knew something hadn't gone to plan. Aidan rushed to her the moment their eyes met and wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face on her shoulder. Slender fingers gently stroked his honey-blond hair as her touch sought to comfort him.

Lannetta took one look at her brother before turning to Gavin and Hailey. "What happened?"

"The dealer's dead," Hailey whispered, leaving the vampires stunned.

Gavin had his arms wrapped around Hailey, his protective instinct flaring. "Cover's blown big time too," he muttered apologetically before explaining the situation to the group. The other wolves were horrified to know that the Chieftain's uncle's trusted wolves were murdering humans, although the witches and vampires weren't at all surprised.

"It didn't go too well on our side either," Andy admitted.

"Did you find out anything about the curse?" Samaira asked hopefully. Both wolves immediately shook their heads while wearing painfully blank expressions. The witch frowned at their obvious stone walling but said nothing, and no one else seemed to pick up on their odd reaction.

"It was only a matter of time before you were bound to be found out," an unfamiliar voice said, immediately catching everyone's attention. John casually strolled over to join the group after which Emilia made the necessary introductions, although she carefully glossed over Aidan's true identity. John was momentarily puzzled by the presence of humans among the group but his suspicions were forgotten once he realised Lannetta was among his guests, becoming all wide eyed and utterly delighted.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty," he said with a huge smile in place.

Lannetta nodded in return, "Thank you for inviting me and my fellow vampires into your abode, although I am puzzled as to why we needed to be here in person to learn the truth."

A hint of amusement coated his smile as he answered, "That's because it is the only way for me to show you the secrets in these jars."

Everyone turned their curious eyes towards the racks. Signalling them to follow, the bespectacled witch led them to gather around a workbench where a few earthen jars were placed.

As he began carefully removing the lid, he said, "I'll let you in on a secret. This entire war between supernaturals began because of a tragic romance, and in my opinion, quite a bit of youthful folly among those involved. I doubt any Renaissance playwright could have written it better. And guess what?" He cast them a look of excitement rivalling that of a five year old unwrapping Christmas gifts, "I have front row seats for us to watch the entire play unfold!"

The group exchanged nervous glances. Had they just followed a nutjob back to his lair? Only Emilia seemed unconcerned by his behaviour. Keenly sensing the direction their collective thoughts were headed, John Miller frantically tried to soothe them, "I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense, am I? Let me explain from the beginning."

"My family has details of the history of witches, vampires and werewolves dating back to the time before the Portal Wars, when the three species honoured the peace accords." As he spoke, John had sparkles in his eyes, an almost maniacal excitement barely contained. "I have in my possession details that even the current members of the Committee have no knowledge of, including what triggered the war, and the point of no return when all hell broke loose."

Emilia gave the man a look of utter frustration, "If you have such precious information, why aren't you sharing it with the Committee?"

His brows drew together above the thick rim of his glasses, "My family has had a tumultuous relationship with those in power. It's why we've lived in the shadows, always watching but forever hidden. The Committee has proven itself untrustworthy in more than one situation." He added in a voice dripping with indignation, "This family never has, and I never will work with them, at least not until something is done to fix their broken governance!"

Emilia was perplexed, "You know who I am. Why tell me?"

For the first time since meeting them, he was solemn, all exuberance gone. "Because you're searching for the truth, which means, deep down, you know they're lying." Emilia's expression hardened in affront but he continued, "I know you don't want to accept it, but there's so much you need to know, and I'm willing to give it to you right now."

"There's always a catch. Nothing's ever free." It was Byron butting in, raised eyebrows revealing his skepticism.

John retorted, "All I've ever wanted is for the truth about the Portal Wars to be revealed. Is that too hard to believe?"

Maxim spoke, his monotonous voice bringing with it an odd calm, "Let's say we believe your intentions. How did your family obtain such privy information and how do we authenticate its contents?"

The redhead released the jar lid long enough to rub an index finger over his nose bridge. "Ah, you won't have to worry about authenticity, and I'll show you why, soon enough. As for how I know what I know," John dramatically met each of their gazes, before dropping the bombshell revelation, "my ancestor was the one who cursed vampires to burn in the sun."