The party ends, everyone who alive left to their home by forgetting their memories and Isabella's group standing there with Lucian.

Lucian stood at the center, his figure dominating the room with a commanding presence. His dark eyes burned with a dangerous fire, his voice low and sharp.

“Isabella,” he began, his tone a cold mixture of threat and demand, “you’re going to cast the spell. Open the coffin.”

Pearl froze where she stood, her hand clutching Phillip’s arm tightly. Her face paled, and her voice trembled as she spoke. “The Coffin?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “No... not at any cost. We can’t”

Phillip’s normally stoic demeanor cracked, his eyes wide with shock. “Lucian,” he said, his voice steady but strained, “you don’t know what you’re asking. The coffin is sealed for a reason.”

Lucian’s gaze flicked toward them, his lip curling into a half-smile. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m asking,” he replied, his voice dripping with mockery. “And I don’t need your opinions. Isabella will do as I command, otherwise I'll compelled you to Remeber your past.”

Isabella shocked and said "past? What kinda past?"

Lucian laughing and saying "oh, so sad. You too much lover didn't tell you about his bloodlust past, how he killed villagers and rip their heart out for just fun. How he uses his dark bloodshed magic for giving pain to them."

Phillip down his face, Isabella holds his hand said "phillip, why didn't you tell me about it?"

Phillip up his face and said "because I'm changed and I..I dont wanna live like before and remeber any kind of memories from past."

Lucian laughing and said "Did he told you that he knows about I feed on Lysandra."

Isabella shoked her heart beating fast "What? Dont say any rubbish. Lucian."

"Oh, ask yourself. Before a week he caught me with Lysandra at home. We were dancing and I was feeding on her." Lucian shout.

Isabella step ahead and holds his hand said "phillip just say he is lying. I dont care what people say and thinks, just tell me you dont know anything about it."

Phillip didn't say a word and Isabella's eyes tearing and hands trembling she holds his face and said "just look into my eyes and said he is lying."

Phillip said while looking into her eyes "he..he is..saying truth?"

Isabella step backs and her emotions high, she feels betrayal and trembling. Cant saying a word and Pearl step ahead and caught Isabella in arms. She staring at phillip her own eyes filled with tears "How Could you, Phil?"

Lucian’s jaw tightened, his patience clearly thinning. “Create this family drama later, but for just now, opened the coffin,” he growled.

“I’m not doing it,” Isabella trembling but she has to fight for Lysandra she shot back without hesitation.

Lucian’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You will do it, or I’ll rip every throat in this room. Starting with theirs.” He gestured toward Pearl and Phillip, who flinched under his gaze.

Phillip stepped forward, his voice rising with anger. “You think threatening us will work? We are your family, Lucian!”

“Family?” Lucian chuckled, the sound low and menacing. “Oh, Phillip, you’ve forgotten who you’re. Dont play with me. I don’t play games. I win them.”

Isabella’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not answering the question,” she said, her voice unwavering. “Who’s in the coffin?”

For a moment, Lucian said nothing. His eyes bore into hers, a battle of wills playing out in the silence. Finally, he exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“She’s my love,” he said at last, his voice softening, though the edge of danger remained. “Her name is Salena Varro. Sealed centuries ago by cowards who feared her power. My power. They betrayed us and locked her away.”

Pearl stepped back, her face stricken with terror. “Salena Varro?” she gasped. “No... no, we can’t. Isabella, you can’t!”

Phillip’s voice was a growl, his fangs slightly visible. “She’s destruction. She betrayed kings and queens, tore apart kingdoms. If she’s released”

Lucian cut him off with a glare. “Enough!” he barked. “You don’t know her like I do. She’s my salvation, not your destruction. You don’t get to decide.”

Isabella tilted her head, studying him carefully. “If she’s so important to you,” she said slowly, “why not open the coffin yourself? Why do you need me?”

Lucian’s expression hardened, his voice a low snarl. “The spell requires dragon blood. And you, Isabella, are the last of your kind.”

Isabella let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “Why are you so sure that I'm dragon blood,” she said. “And if talk about love, you cant love anyone. You are monster. You just want to use me to get what you want like your brother did.” she gesturing at Phillip.

Lucian’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t deny it.

She stepped closer, her voice steady and cold. “No. I won’t do it. I’m not unleashing a monster on the world. Find another way.”

Lucian’s temper snapped. “You will do it, Isabella!” he roared, his voice echoing through the room.

Isabella stood her ground, meeting his fiery gaze with equal intensity. “No,” she said firmly. “I won’t.”

He move towards Lysandra and start drinking from her Vein. Isabella shoked shouting "I'll..I'll just leave her alone."

His crimson eyes gleamed, drinking in the chaos he’d created. Wiping his blood-stained lips, he stepped forward, the flickering chandelier light casting menacing shadows across his sharp features.,

You know, Isabella,” Lucian drawled, his voice smooth, rich with mockery. “For someone so powerful, you sure let a lot of weaklings crowd around you. It's almost endearing. Almost.” He cocked his head, his smirk deepening. “But I didn’t come here to talk about your lacklustre entourage.”

Isabella’s glowing orange eyes narrowed, her voice trembling with restrained rage. “You’ve slaughtered innocents, Lucian.?”

Lucian let out a low, amused chuckle, spreading his arms theatrically. “Oh, come now. A little chaos keeps life interesting, doesn’t it? Besides,” he said, his tone darkening, “you and I both know that innocence is just another lie people tell themselves before they die.”

Phillip stepped forward, fury radiating off him. “Stop this, Lucian. You’ve crossed every line."

Felix growled, stepping forward. “Leave Lysandra out of this,” he snarled, his wolf form threatening to break through.

Lucian’s eyes glimmered as he pointed a finger at Felix. “Sit,” he commanded, his voice dripping with compulsion.

Felix froze mid-step, his body jerking back as if yanked by invisible chains. He collapsed into a chair, his expression twisting with fury. “You”

“Shh,” Lucian interrupted, waving a finger. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Now, let’s have a little fun, shall we? Felix, be a good boy and stab yourself in the leg.”

Felix’s hand trembled as he fought against the compulsion, but his arm moved against his will. He picked up a nearby knife, his eyes wild with panic as he raised it toward his leg.

“No!” Sirela screamed, running toward him.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Isabella roared, her voice shaking the room. She raised a hand, her fiery magic sparking to life.

But Lucian was faster. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled Lysandra to him, his hand gripping her throat. “Ah, ah, ah,” he hissed. “Careful, Isabella. One wrong move and your pretty friend here becomes my meal.”

Lysandra’s green eyes filled with tears as she gasped for air, her hands clawing at his unyielding grip. “I-Isabella…”

“Let her go, Lucian!” Phillip shouted, his voice breaking with desperation.

Lucian turned to Phillip with mock surprise. “Why, Phillip, I didn’t know you cared so much. Don’t worry, I won’t kill her. Yet.”

Isabella’s voice trembled, a mix of fury and fear. “Lysandra, I swear I’ll protect you. You just have to hold on.”

Lucian sneered. “Oh, how touching. But let’s be honest, Isabella. You can’t protect everyone. Not your precious Phillip. Not your loyal little wolf. Not even yourself.” His voice darkened, dripping with venom. “So tell me, dragon witch..would you spell or not?”

Felix groaned, his hand trembling as he plunged the knife into his leg. He let out a pained cry, his body convulsing.

“Felix!” Sirela screamed, rushing to his side.

"I give you my words, I'll spell and unsealed your love." Lucian laught and shoved Lysandra into Isabella’s arms and disappeared into the shadows with a mocking laugh.

From the darkness, his voice echoed through the hall. I won't pity on who betray me, Isabella. You can’t save them all. And soon, you’ll see why I’ve come.”

As his laughter faded, silence fell over the room, broken only by Felix’s laboured breathing and Lysandra’s quiet sobs.

Isabella knelt beside Lysandra, her voice soft yet resolute. “Are you okay?”

Lysandra nodded weakly, her eyes brimming with tears. “I..I thought he was going to kill me.”

Phillip clenched his fists, and run behind phillip.

The full moon hung high in the night sky, casting its silver glow over the dark woods. The forest was alive with an eerie, magical light, as if every leaf, every blade of grass, pulsed with blue luminescence. Aurora wandered alone, her footsteps soft against the forest floor. The cool night air brushed against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She clutched the edge of her cloak tighter, but it wasn’t fear that made her heart race—it was the thrill of the unknown.

She had always felt the pull of the dark woods, a strange connection that whispered her name in the quiet of the night. And tonight, as the moon shone its brightest, she couldn’t resist the urge to explore.

As she moved deeper into the forest, she saw it, a castle.

It loomed in the distance, its silhouette dark against the glowing trees. Massive and ancient, it was unlike anything she had ever seen before. The towering spires seemed to scrape the heavens, and its weathered stone walls held a timeless strength. Vines crawled over its surface, clinging like memories too stubborn to fade.

“What is this place?” she whispered to herself. Her voice was swallowed by the stillness of the night. The bats start flying around it.

She approached cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. The castle’s heavy wooden doors stood slightly ajar, creaking as the wind pushed them open.

Should I go in?

Aurora hesitated only for a moment before stepping inside. The door groaned in protest, its cracked hinges echoing through the vast, dark hall. The air was cold and smelled of age, a mix of dust and something deeper, something ancient.

Inside, there was no light. The faint moonlight barely filtered through the narrow, grime-covered windows. As she moved forward, her boots clicked softly against the marble floor. The wind flowed through the corridors like a whisper, carrying with it the faintest echoes of voices—voices she couldn’t understand but felt drawn to.

The furniture was grand but aged, draped in faded fabrics and cloaked in layers of dust. She ran her fingers along a broken armrest, feeling the history embedded in the wood. Power was buried here, she could feel it. It lingered in every corner, like a secret waiting to be uncovered.

Then she heard it, the whispers.

Soft and indistinct, they came from deeper within the castle. She turned her head sharply, trying to follow the sound. “Hello?” she called out, her voice trembling despite herself.

The whispers stopped.

Her footsteps quickened as she followed the pull, the invisible string that seemed to guide her. The sound of her breath filled her ears, mingling with the faint creak of the old floor beneath her.

Eventually, she came to a room.

It was grand but cluttered, filled with ancient furniture and forgotten trinkets. Broken chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals refracting faint glimpses of moonlight. The air was heavier here, thick with an unseen presence.

As she wandered through the room, her gown caught on something. She turned to free it and saw that it was a curtain. The fabric, though old, was surprisingly soft beneath her fingers. A gust of wind from the broken windows blew the curtain loose, and it fluttered against her face. She stepped back, pulling it away.

And then she saw it.

A painting.

Her breath caught in her throat. The portrait was large, framed in an intricately carved golden border. But it wasn’t the craftsmanship that stunned her—it was the subject.

It was her.

Or at least it looked like her.

In the painting, she wore a flowing, ancient dress of silver and gold. Her hair cascaded around her like molten light, and behind her, massive feathered wings gleamed with an ethereal glow. The brushstrokes were alive with energy, as though the artist had captured not just her image but her very soul.

She stumbled back, her heart racing. “What… what is this?”

The whispers returned, louder now, pressing against her mind.

She reached out, her trembling fingers brushing against the painting’s surface. The moment her skin met the canvas, a vision exploded in her mind.

She was no longer in the room.

She was sitting on an ornate chair, the fabric cool beneath her fingertips. A man stood before her, his hands moving deftly as he painted. His features were sharp, his expression focused. His name came to her lips unbidden.

“Ravaan,” she whispered.

The man paused, his piercing eyes meeting hers. “Stay still, Aurora,” he said, his voice smooth and filled with authority. “I must capture you perfectly.”

She blinked, and the vision vanished as suddenly as it had come. She was back in the room, staring at the painting. Her knees felt weak, and she sank into a nearby chair, her mind spinning.

Her dreams, the ones that had haunted her nights since she was a child, they weren’t dreams. They were memories.

Her hands shook as she looked at the painting again, this time with a mix of fear and wonder.

“I’m not just… me,” she said aloud, her voice barely a whisper.

The whispers around her grew louder, as if in agreement.

Aurora knew, deep in her soul, that her life is just going to change forever.