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Chapter Text

“All right, children. It’s bedtime,” Effie said, trying to calm the two mischievous boys who were running around the large room and throwing pillows at each other. The maids were busy preparing the prince’s large bed and the smaller one next to it, though everyone knew that in the end, both boys would fall asleep in the same bed. The small one would be forgotten as always.

“Boys!” Effie used her soft yet firm motherly tone, which made both of them stop in the middle of the room at once. Soft pillows hung from their hands, and their hair and clothes were a mess.

Effie smiled at the effect she had on them and pointed toward the beds. “It’s bedtime.”

Sirius looked up at the older woman with his wide, innocent red eyes. His lower lip trembled, and his face took on an expression that could melt anyone’s heart. “I want my mum.”

Effie smiled gently, her eyes softening. She knelt down in front of the boys and brushed Sirius’s wavy hair, now longer than ever, away from his eyes. “Your mum’s gone on a little trip, Sirius. We talked about this. She won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

“But she’s always on a trip!” Sirius protested. “She’s never here on weekends. And even when she is, she’s always busy.”

Effie knew exactly what he meant. Queen Walburga Black had spent every single weekend away from the castle for several years now, without exception. No one but the king, her personal maid, and the coachman who took her knew where she went, and no one dared to ask.

“That’s why I’m here, darling. Your mother is a very busy woman. Ruling such a vast kingdom takes up a great deal of her time. And though it’s rather sad, it’s a truth we can’t deny. That’s why James and I are here, so you don’t feel lonely. Isn’t that right, James?”

The boy beside Sirius nodded, flashing a wide grin that revealed the gaps where his newly lost canine teeth had been. His glasses were crooked from all the rough play, yet his crimson eyes still shone brightly behind them.

Effie turned back to Sirius. “Now, how about getting into bed so tonight goes by quickly and tomorrow comes sooner? Your mother will be back at the palace soon, and you can have afternoon tea with her.”

Sirius didn’t look convinced. It was clear he wanted his mother, and he wanted her tonight. Still, the two boys made their way to the prince’s large bed. As usual, James’s smaller bed was ignored.

“Where does the Queen go anyway?” James asked as he took off his glasses and placed them on the bedside table. “I thought all the borders were sealed with magic and no one could cross them.”

“That’s true,” Effie replied. “But Acrasia is a vast land with plenty of places to explore. She doesn’t have to leave the kingdom to travel.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Maybe she sails around Ellara and plays with the mermaids.” He paused, then looked up at Effie. “How do the borders even work? Can Mum go into Ellara’s waters? Or are the sea borders closed too?”

Effie looked at his curious little face. “No. All borders are sealed, even the sea ones. No one can leave Acrasia. Not even to see a little mermaid.”

“How did they even come to be? And why?” This time it was James who spoke, his crimson eyes, large without his glasses, gleaming like two marbles.

Well, wasn’t that the golden question?

“It’s late, boys, and that story is far too long to tell before bed.”

“Pleeease?” Sirius pleaded with the most innocent puppy eyes imaginable, forcing Effie to give in with a sigh.

“All right, but only if you behave, don’t bicker, and go straight to sleep once the candles are out. I don’t want to hear your whispering long after that, understood?”

At last, James spoke up. “We promise.”

And to prove it, both of them lay down politely in their places, not even trying to poke each other in the ribs.

Effie sat down on the edge of the bed and gently ran her fingers through James’ and Sirius’ hair in turn. “It all goes back to a very long time ago.”

“You mean Papa’s time?”

Effie chuckled softly. “Much earlier than that.”

“Grandpa’s time?” James suggested this time.

“Try the time of the very first vampires.”

Both boys’ eyes widened, and they gasped, waiting for Effie to continue her story.

“Before the vampires came to be, there were several kinds of beings in the world: werewolves, Sorcerers, dragons, elves, centaurs, and giants. Each had its own lands and rarely interfered with the others. But gradually, some of the Sorcerers began to believe they were superior. They possessed the magic of the earth itself and could turn almost anything into reality. The only thing they lacked was the physical strength to stand against the other races.

Word spread among the Sorcerers, and in the end, three houses stood firm on this belief, the Potters, the Blacks, and the Crouches. They spent years studying and experimenting until they turned to dark magic, one of the most terrible of all elements. Dark magic was forbidden among Sorcerers and considered a grave crime, but they accepted the risk. They sought a way to gain immense physical power and superiority over the others, and at last, through the use of dark magic, they succeeded. And that is how the vampires were born.”

Both boys, eyes wide as saucers, stared at Effie in silence, trembling with excitement to hear more.

“When they first came into being, they were overwhelmed by an unbearable thirst for blood, and their bodies were unprepared for such a sudden transformation. Blinded by their new feral instincts, they attacked countless sorcerers and drained them completely dry. By the time their thirst subsided, it was far too late. The sorcerers, having lost nearly half their kind, realised what had happened and sought to capture and punish the vampires.

But the vampires were far stronger than anyone had expected. Before they could be stopped, they turned on Asena, the land of the werewolves, and unleashed a massacre there as well. Still, the werewolves were powerful and numerous, so they fled and, in turn, attacked Ilaria, the land of the elves.

Of all the races, the elves were the most vulnerable. Though they possessed magic, their power was not equal to that of the sorcerers, and their physical strength was as slight as any ordinary sorcerer. They could not escape the slaughter that descended upon their homeland.

The elves were wiped out by that handful of vampires, and only a few managed to flee across the sea borders and find refuge in a deserted corner of Deathia.

For a while, the vampires terrorised everyone. They needed to feed, and with their lands bordering those of the werewolves, they found their easiest prey there. Werewolf blood became their main source of nourishment, and whenever the wolves tried to fight back, the vampires would vanish into the vast forests of Ilaria with their inhuman speed.

The sorcerers had dwindled to their smallest numbers, and the werewolves were being hunted day by day. This dark age lasted a long time, until finally, the sorcerers and werewolves decided to join forces, to stand together and put an end, once and for all, to nature’s new predators.”

Effie paused. Perhaps telling such a dark and bloody tale to two eight year old boys hadn’t been the best idea. But just as she thought it might be time to stop, Sirius’s eager voice broke the silence.
“What happened next?”

Effie chuckled and shook her head. Since she’d come this far, she might as well finish the story.

“The vampires, though few in number, were powerful, there was no doubt about that. At first, the werewolves tried sending a small army made up of their strongest warriors and the most skilled sorcerers to destroy them, but the plan failed. It seemed the vampires were immortal. How could anyone kill a creature when even an iron spear through its body had no effect?

“So they made another decision. Once they were certain all the vampires were gathered in Ilaria, they began creating the most complex border spell ever conceived. It took days to complete, and the sorcerers poured every ounce of their power into it, but in the end, it worked. The borders of Ilaria, now known as Acrasia, were sealed completely, so that the vampires could no longer harm anyone.

“When this proved successful, the sorcerers decided to use the same spell on the other lands as well. The dragons had been a grave problem for the werewolves, and the centaurs caused much destruction to the sorcerer's clans, so their borders were sealed too. After countless pleas and letters from the remaining elves, a magical barrier was raised around the small land where they had settled, protecting them from the ruthless giants. The few surviving elves named their new home Durand and tried to live on.”

Effie finally finished the story and looked at the boys’ curious faces. It seemed all that information was a bit much for their young minds.

“What happens if someone tries to cross the borders?”
“If we’re descended from sorcerers, then why don’t we have magic?”

They both asked at once, making Effie laugh as she ran a hand over their heads.

“No one can cross the borders. They act like an invisible wall,” she replied first to Sirius. “If someone tries too hard, the magic burns through their body and destroys them.”

Then she turned to James. “Magic comes from nature. All sorcerers draw their power from the Great Tree of Silas, the oldest and most powerful living being in the world. Though sorcerers are born with magic in their veins, they believe it’s nature itself that allows them to use it.

“Vampires, on the other hand, are the exact opposite of nature’s power. They brought death and destruction, while nature gives life. So, gradually, the vampires lost their magic, and the generations that followed never regained it.”

A brief silence fell. It seemed the boys had finally absorbed the tale. But, inevitably, James spoke again.

“But that was ages ago. We’re good creatures now, aren’t we? We only drink animal blood, and even then, we don’t kill them. We just take a little. So why should the borders still exist?”

Effie smiled at her son’s innocence and helped both boys settle under the covers. “Years of death and bloodshed can’t be forgotten so easily, Jamie. And no one can be certain that if the borders were ever lifted, the vampires wouldn’t repeat their past mistakes.”

“But—”

Effie cut him off gently. “It’s time to sleep now, boys. Save your questions for tomorrow. It’s late.”

As the candle was extinguished, both boys murmured their goodnights, and Effie kissed each of them on the head before quietly leaving the room.

Chapter Text

The moonlight streaming through the small prison window announced the arrival of yet another night.

The cold, damp cell had now held the body of a man for three whole nights, a man accused of one of the highest crimes without having committed a single sin, waiting for his trial.

A trial he knew would be as unfair as the past three days had been.

The prisoner curled up in the corner of his cell, hugging his knees. His thin, bony body looked dreadful in the prison garments, and three days without blood had made his skin even paler than usual. His long, unkempt black hair made him look almost like a madman. At least on the outside, he was slowly beginning to resemble the accusations made against him.

The only thing he could do was think. Throughout these three days, no one had come to see him, not even to make sure he was still alive. The guards took shifts at the beginning of the corridor, far from the cell where the vampire was being kept, and he couldn’t even hear their footsteps or voices.

That was the maddening thing about this cell.

Azkaban was no ordinary prison. It was an advanced confinement facility where every door and wall was sealed with sorcery, stripping the prisoners of any form of power. Inside these cells, a vampire was weaker than even an elf and utterly helpless.

Their hands and feet were bound with chains locked by special spells. These spells worked the same way silver affected werewolves, leaving deep burn marks where the chains had been and slowly draining the vampires’ great physical strength. Combined with starvation, it would eventually weaken them so much that, by the time of their trial, they couldn’t even stand on their feet, let alone defend themselves.

The walls and bars of the prison were all secured with enchanted plants and spells. This blocked their extraordinary hearing, turning the cell into a small, soundproof box. Their connection to the outside world was completely severed, and eventually, anything that could distract them from their own thoughts was stripped away. In that room, designed specifically to drive people insane, the only companion they had left was the voice of their own thoughts, which grew louder and more real with each passing day.

The only positive thing about these cells was the narrow window high up near the ceiling, which allowed a bit of natural light to enter for a few hours each day, just enough for the prisoner to know how many days, months, or years they had been locked away.

Although even that small mercy was reserved only for the ordinary cells; those meant for prisoners with special crimes, located in another section, were deprived of it altogether.

Sirius had heard many stories about the prisoners kept in that section. All of them lost their sanity in less than two weeks, pressing themselves against the bars until severe burns covered their bodies. Burns so deep that, in the end, they cost them their lives.

Thinking about those stories now felt more like looking into his own future than recalling the frightening tales Bella occasionally used to tell him.

The thin shaft of moonlight illuminated the body curled up against the wall, and Surius could see the burn marks on his wrists and ankles. The streaks of dried blood beside his broken fingernails were the result of his desperate attempts to count the days and carve them into the stone walls.

Surius didn’t know how long his stay there would last, or when the day of his trial would come, but he did know that the torment inflicted upon him was far from over.

The accusations against him were precise and backed by evidence.

Sirius had simply been caught in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong proof.

Looking back now, he realised how foolish he had been, how easily he had exposed his weaknesses to whoever had orchestrated this.

Learning the routine of Sirius Black had never been easy. He had never felt comfortable in the palace, and for that reason, he kept to himself as much as possible, trying to hide his life from prying eyes.

His mornings followed the same princely routine as always: a series of classes that taught him the arts, history, combat, and everything else he was expected to know. On certain days, he would attend meetings alongside his father, preparing for the future in which he was destined to be king.

After lunch, however, the days were his own, and he preferred to spend them far from the watchful eyes of the palace. Most of the time, he and James would disguise themselves and sneak out to wander the city, mingling with the people.

At night, however, there was always a fixed routine. After the maids had extinguished the candles and the palace had fallen into darkness, Sirius would take the candlestick he’d hidden away and begin wandering through the castle. It might have seemed like a foolish thing to do, but the eighteen-year-old prince was curious about everything, and most of the palace lay silent and uninhabited at night. During the day, the castle was always bustling with activity, and sneaking around wasn’t an easy task. That was why Sirius always began his secret missions after nightfall.

A few nights ago, just as always, Sirius had lit his candlestick and was trying to reach the third floor of the palace through the secret corridors he’d discovered a month earlier.

The Palace of Acrasia was grand and magnificent, four floors of monumental architecture that had taken over a century to build. Yet now, only two of those floors were in use: the first, which held the king’s chamber, meeting hall, dining room and ballroom; and the second, where the bedrooms and training rooms were located. Through the secret passages, which now seemed long forgotten, one could easily reach every room in the castle and even the staircase leading to the upper floors.

No one knew of these corridors, or at least, that’s what Sirius had believed.

Everything changed three nights ago, when the guards caught him inside those very passages and sent him to prison.

Sirius didn’t even know what crime he’d been accused of. It was true that carrying any form of fire after dark in the castle was punishable, fire being one of the few things that could bring certain death to vampires. But Sirius was sure that no one would send the Prince and heir of Acrasia to Azkaban merely for carrying a flame after curfew. He and James had done far worse things and had only ever received a long lecture from the Queen and some minor punishment.

Whatever was happening now was beyond all of that, and Sirius couldn’t help but think what could possibly have happened to make him end up in this hell, and more importantly, who would accuse him of doing it.

Who, and why.. Those were the real questions.

Who, because it had to be someone who knew him. Someone who had been watching him for a long time, months, perhaps. Someone who had observed him when no one else noticed, memorised his routines, his ways of sneaking around, and found out what he’d been up to, only to devise a plan to accuse him of something. A great crime.

To frame him, to put him in this prison, and get him out of the way.

Someone observant enough to come up with such a plan and execute it flawlessly.

Someone clever, perceptive, and also, someone who wanted his position as the Prince of Acrasia.

It could be a lot of people, actually. Vampires were known for their thirst for power, and the Blacks had countless enemies among their own kind.

It could even be someone from another land, a sorcerer or a werewolf, perhaps. But that was unlikely. They wouldn’t dare set foot in Acrasia, knowing they could easily be recognised and killed by the scent of their blood.

No. It was one of their own.

Someone from the castle.

Someone close to him.

Sirius had some suspects. Of course, James would be the first to come to anyone’s mind. He was the closest to Sirius. They had practically grown up together and spent every single day in each other’s company.

He was also the only one who knew about his nocturnal activities; Sirius had always been so excited to tell him about all the paintings and ancient books he’d found in the abandoned rooms. James had even joined him one night, wandering around the castle and making up stories about every item they discovered.

James would be the first and most obvious suspect, matching every possible trait and topping any list.

Except that Sirius knew James would rather stab himself repeatedly with the largest wooden stake in the world than betray his brother in any way whatsoever.

Just as Sirius would do the same.

In no universe would Sirius betray James, not even slightly, and he knew for a fact that the feeling was mutual.

James hadn’t done it.

But then it brought him back to his first question:

Then who did?

He repeated the names in his head over and over again. It was a long list. Their crown had always been built on the lack of trust and respect. The number of people who would happily hurt him was so great it made him feel dizzy.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realise the figure that was coming closer to him, a man in a dark cloak, holding a key and rushing towards his cell.

When he noticed him, Sirius frowned and tried to move back. His mind was racing through all the dangers an enemy could bring upon him while he was in his weakest state. He couldn’t even run from a simple wooden stake. He would be long gone before he could attend his trial and find out why he’d been put there in the first place.

Except that the figure standing there, key in hand and cloak hiding his face, was not on the long list of his enemies.

On the contrary, he was one of the few people Sirius would, without hesitation, place on the list of those he trusted most.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Sirius asked as James hurried to unlock the door of his cell.

“Just, you know, knocked down some guards, stole the keys. No biggie.” James flashed him a grin, stepping inside the cell and working on his chains.

“You What?! James! Don’t you realise how dangerous this is? Breaking into Azkaban— you’ll be executed!”

James, however, seemed unbothered.

“YOU would be executed if we don’t get you out. So, come on. Up you go. We haven’t got much time.”

After James unlocked the chains around his wrists and ankles, Sirius placed his hand against the damp prison wall and tried his hardest to stand up. His body was at its weakest, and his trembling knees could barely support his weight.

“Here…” James wrapped an arm around Sirius’s waist, helping him to his feet. “According to my plan, we’ve got about twenty minutes to get out of here. The guards will wake up by then, and the alarm will sound. We need to be as far away as possible before that happens.”

Sirius could hardly take a step forward, all his weight was being pulled along by James. “How are we even supposed to get out? Azkaban is surrounded by guards.”

The wide grin on James’s lips didn’t match the situation at all. “The same way I got in. Come on.” He spoke quickly, guiding them both towards the corridors.

After a few minutes of walking, passing by unconscious guards, James stopped in front of a wall and let go of him. Sirius leaned his weak body against the cold stone and tried to catch his breath. He could feel his body slowly beginning to heal its wounds and restore its strength, but it was far from ready yet.

James stood facing the wall, running his hands over different bricks. “Mum told me about this passage. When we found out you’d been arrested, we knew there was no way you could’ve killed anyone—”

“What?!”

“Exactly.”

It seemed James was pressing a few bricks in a particular order, and Sirius was too exhausted to question what he was doing. “And when they said your trial wouldn’t be held for another two weeks, we knew that whatever had happened, it wasn’t going to end well. They were planning to find a replacement for you in that time, and then execute you publicly.”

Sirius realised he had been right. All those thoughts that had driven him to the edge of madness in his cell were true. Someone wanted him out of the game. Someone had planned to have him killed. But who?

“That’s when Mum told me about this tunnel.” As he finished his sentence, James pressed the final brick. Suddenly, the wall began to split apart, revealing a narrow, hidden passageway.

James stepped into the tunnel and grabbed the items hanging from the wall, two torches and two bags.

Sirius stared at his best friend in confusion. “This has always been here?”

“Trust the vampires to be paranoid enough to build secret passages in their prisons,” James said as he rummaged through one of the bags. “Vampires never trusted anyone, not even themselves. Every bit of their architecture, whether royal palaces or common houses, has escape routes and hidden tunnels. Mostly because they always believed sorcerers or werewolves would come back one day for revenge. There were even more of these secret ways built after the First Civil War.”

James paused for a moment, then pulled a small glass bottle out of the bag. “This is all the blood I could bring with me. Drink. you need it.”

Sirius didn’t need telling twice. He opened the bottle and, with all the speed he could muster, drank every last drop. Three days of starvation and bearing those magical wounds had left him more in need of feeding than ever. This amount wasn’t nearly enough, but at least it let him walk unaided. He still couldn’t use his supernatural speed, though.

“As you may or may not know, the Potters lost the First Civil War, and the Blacks forced them to build this prison for themselves. The design was by the Crouches, which is why it’s so cruel, but the labour was Potter-built, and so one of them, who knew a bit about architecture, secretly made this so they could escape later. The tunnels run for kilometres underground and end up in the forests.” James handed him one of the bags and a torch, then went back to pressing bricks in a particular sequence. “When they built it, they put in some bottles of blood and magical herbs that we might find along the way.”

Once the door had closed behind them, they both began moving as fast as Sirius’s weakened body allowed.

“I thought the Potters who were arrested in that war were later executed?”

James’s face tightened. The matter dated back centuries, yet the Potter family were still hated among vampires, even those who had no direct part in the fighting and who voiced no objections. And of course the Potters themselves bore resentment at the injustice done to them.

“In the end, only one of them escaped. The one who drew up the plans and made this place like it is. The idea was to do it gradually so they’d be hard to find. But when the first one got away, the rest were executed the next morning without any trial. The secret of the prison and its tunnels passed down through the Potter line, because they were almost always certain it might happen again and they needed to be ready.”

After that history lesson, the two of them continued in silence. The tunnel was narrow, long and dark, and both vampires focussed on exiting it as quickly as possible.

Along the way they found a few of the packages James had mentioned: bottles of blood, tins containing magical herbs, even clothes.

James refused to drink any of the blood himself. He gave them all to Sirius so he could regain his strength. The blood in the bottles had turned brown with age and tasted of rotten meat, but Sirius needed feeding, so he swallowed them without protest.

Among the magical herbs, James recognised a few that were effective at healing wounds. He placed them on Sirius’s injuries and bound them with strips of his clothing. The plants were extremely rare and no longer grew in the soil of Acrasia. Their origin dated back a thousand years, to when vampires first came to Acrasia and still possessed their magic. After the curse of nature and the loss of their magic, cultivating them became impossible, and only a handful remained.

Aside from healing, a few of the herbs could be burned to mask their scent, making it much harder for the guards to track them.

They had been walking for roughly fifteen minutes when the alarm sounded.

“Damn it,” Sirius swore, and the pair began to run. They had no idea where in Acrasia they now were, but the bell did not sound too far away.

“Are you sure no one else knows about this except your mum and dad?” Sirius asked.

“Positive.”

“And how likely is it that they’ll be suspected and taken in for questioning?”

James’s silence was all the answer Sirius needed. He froze in his tracks and looked at James in shock.

“They’ll arrest your Mum and Dad!”

“Sirius, we don’t have time for this. It’s getting late.”

But Sirius shook his head firmly and, even when James grasped his arm, wouldn’t move. “They’ll be tortured and held in Azkaban until they talk. I… I have to go back. I won’t let Effie and Monty take my place. I won’t—”

“They knew the risks. It’s what the three of us agreed to so we could save you from death. Come on, please.”

James was pleading with everything he had, but Sirius’s mind was fixed on only one thing.

He was about to lose the closest thing he’d ever had to parents.

Effie and Monty were going to sacrifice themselves so Sirius could live, and he, selfish, stupid Sirius, was agreeing to it.

He could picture it. The torture that awaited them, the horror of it. No one could truly imagine what a few pieces of wood and a little fire could do to a vampire’s body before it finally died. But Sirius knew. Every gruesome story he’d ever heard about Azkaban’s tortures now replayed in his head. Images of Effie and Monty with wooden stakes driven through their eyes, turning slowly, their screams echoing endlessly. And through it all, one sentence pounded in his skull.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault. It’s my fault.

“I have to go back. They… I can’t do this to them, James.”

“Sirius, please. It’s too late for that.”

“No. No… I have to—”

“Sirius—”

“They’ll torture them, James! They might even kill them! I can’t—”

“You think I don’t know that?!” James’s shout echoed through the tunnel, making Sirius meet his wide, grief-stricken eyes. “But this is the only way, Sirius. The only way we could be sure you’d live.”

“No… no, that can’t be the only way. We can go back. To the palace. I have to see my father. I’m sure he doesn’t know anything. If… if I meet him, I can convince him. I’ll tell him I escaped on my own just to see him. My father may not care much for me, but he won’t sacrifice his only heir, not for—whatever this is. I have to go to him and—”

“Your father’s dead, Sirius.”

Those three words struck harder than any blow.

“…What?”

“Your father’s dead, and everyone thinks it was you,” James said quietly, tugging at Sirius's hand, and this time, Sirius followed without protest.

“Twenty-seven years were left of your father’s reign, but he was found dead under mysterious circumstances. His chamber was set on fire, and before anyone could save him, his body was burned beyond recognition. You were caught in the hidden corridor connecting the royal rooms… with a candle in your hand.”

“But I—”

“Didn’t kill him?” James finished for him. “I know that. Mum and Dad know it, and maybe Mary believes us too. But apart from us, the whole court and the entire kingdom are against you. The death sentence they were preparing for your trial was as good as written.”

“My mother…?”

James sighed and shook his head.

Sirius had never been close to his parents. His mother was rarely at the palace, and his father was far too absorbed in the crown to be present for anything beyond mealtimes. Effie had raised him instead, and Monty, the royal adviser, had been the closest thing Sirius had to a father.

Still, the idea that his own mother could believe he had it in him to murder his father hurt more than he wanted to admit.

Maybe she hadn’t been around much, but Sirius remembered the days they’d shared afternoon tea together, when she’d ruffle his hair and read him stories. He remembered her gaze when he played the piano at royal gatherings, the pride shining in Queen Walburga’s eyes as her son drew admiration from the court.

Those days were long gone, and perhaps she no longer read to him or looked at him with pride, but surely, surely some part of that woman still remained. Some part that recognised her son, that loved him, that believed in him. Believed that her little boy could never commit such a sin.

Effie had believed in him. She’d believed in him enough to risk her life, to face torture so Sirius could live and carry on somewhere out there.

So why couldn’t his mother?

As they ran, the only thought echoing in Sirius’s head was that single, desperate question:

Why, Mum? Why don’t you trust me? Didn’t you love me? I swear you did once. I swear there was a time when you would’ve done anything to keep me safe. So why? What changed? Aren’t I still your son? Aren’t I still your little miracle? Wasn’t that what you used to call me? What changed?

Why, Mum? Why?

***

They managed to get out of the tunnel without being caught and kept running north through the forests of Acrasia. The further they went, the colder the air became and the denser the trees. Eventually, when they’d run far enough that the palace walls had vanished behind the trees, they allowed themselves a short rest. The sun was rising, showing they’d spent a long time fleeing the prison and the guards.

Thanks to the magical herbs, Sirius had almost recovered his strength and his wounds were now well on the mend. His power had returned thanks to the several bottles of blood they’d drunk along the way, and now he sat quietly on a branch, fiddling with the strap of his bag.

For the first time in eighteen years there was a silence between him and James, and neither of them made a move to break it.

“You need feeding,” Sirius finally said, breaking the quiet. He was looking at James’s tired face and guessed his friend hadn’t had enough blood either. After such a chase, James looked weaker than before.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“We’ve used up all the blood anyway. I can hold on until we find somewhere and patch a plan together.”

Sirius frowned. “Where are we now, James?”

“Umm…” James ran a hand down the back of his neck and looked around. “Forest? Mary mentioned there’s a cabin nearby nobody knows about and—”

“That’s right. We’re in the woods. And the woods are full of creatures.” Sirius spread his hands as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “This is getting near the Asena borders and the nature here is at its richest. The best food source is right here. We can easily find a few squirrels or even a deer and get fresh blood.”

“I’m not killing anything,” James said simply, idly picking at a few twigs.

Sirius sighed at the same old argument he and James always had and rolled his eyes. “They’re animals. In the end they die after a few months anyway.”

When James stubbornly shook his head, Sirius felt as if he might lose his mind. “Do you know where the blood you normally drink comes from? It’s not like it’s apple juice or something.”

“And that still tortures me, knowing that other beings have to suffer or die for me to live. But at least I make sure to feed from sources that don’t require killing the creature.”

Sirius wanted to tear his hair out, but arguing with James was pointless. James had been like this since childhood, and Sirius had always admired that about him, that he wouldn’t harm even a small bird. But they were on the run now, and James needed every last ounce of strength.

“All right then…” Sirius said, dropping from the branch and facing James. “Hand over the empty bottles. I’ll go look for an animal and bring back its blood for you. That way you won’t have to watch the process.”

Before James could object, Sirius held out his hand. “I’ll make sure I only take a little, just enough that the animal won’t be hurt or killed.”

A weak smile crossed James’s face. “Thanks, mate.”

Sirius nodded and gathered the bottles.

Hunting for blood took a few hours. Sirius had promised James he wouldn’t harm anything, so he had to catch quite a few squirrels and take a tiny amount of blood from each. Eventually, when he’d fed enough and one of the bottles was full again, he returned to James.

James, with the same look he always wore when drinking blood, began to drink.

“So… what now?”

James wiped his mouth and set the empty bottle aside. “As I said, we’re heading to Mary’s cabin. No one knows about it and we can stay there safely for a while. In that time I’ll try to slowly bring people to our side. After that… we can hope to get you back to the palace and prove your innocence.”

“We need to find out who actually did this. People are looking for someone to blame, and right now I’m the closest thing they’ve got.”

“Any suspects?”

Sirius shook his head. “It could be anyone. The Crouches have always been jealous of our rule and sought to undermine it. Besides, second-tier families have long wanted to rebel against the royal houses. Even ordinary people might have done it. There’s so much motive for murder among these kinds of folk that I don’t even know where to start.”

“Motive for murder is common to almost all vampires,” James said. “But no one has ever had the nerve to actually try anything.”

Sirius nodded, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “Someone who not only had the motive, but also the courage… and was close enough to me to know exactly how to set the trap.”

Both of them fell silent, deep in thought. Sirius’s list of suspects was growing shorter by the minute.

By the time the sun reached its peak, James jumped down from the tree and slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Come on. We’ve stayed here long enough. We need to find the cabin before the guards start combing the forest. I don’t know about you, but I could really use a few hours of sleep.”

So they continued north, exchanging names of possible culprits along the way and offering reasons to cross them off, or not.

The further they went, the darker the clouds became and the colder the air grew. When Sirius felt snowflakes brushing his cheeks, he crossed his arms tightly around himself.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way? I’ve never seen snow in Acrasia before. I feel like we’re getting too close to the border.”

James studied the map and the small mark drawn on it.

“Mary said the cabin’s somewhere near the border, so we keep going until we find it.”

“So basically, we keep walking until we smash headfirst into an invisible wall. Brilliant.” Sirius muttered under his breath, but followed nonetheless.

They walked until sunset. The cold grew sharper with every step, and the ground was now covered in snow. Yet, since they hadn’t reached the border, they pressed on.

When night fell, they decided to spend it in a cave nearby and continue their journey the next morning.

“Bloody hell, I didn’t realise Acrasia was this big. Thought we’d reach the cabin by nightfall,” James said, using his bag as a makeshift pillow as he lay down.

Sirius was carefully peeling away the healing herbs from his skin. Thanks to them, only faint scars of the burns remained on his wrists and ankles.

“I still think staying here’s too risky. This cave is way too… exposed.”

James took off his glasses and placed them gently beside him.

“We’re miles and miles from the capital. Trust me, the only things that might find us here are animals looking for shelter, same as us.”

“Great. At least we’ll have breakfast.” Ignoring James’s glare, Sirius stretched out on the cold, hard ground and closed his eyes.

“Get some sleep, Jamie. We’ve got a long way to go tomorrow.”

At that, James dimmed the fire to its lowest glow and lay down on the opposite side of the cave.

***

The next morning, Sirius had already imagined several scenarios for what he’d see when he woke up: sunlight on his face, perhaps a few squirrels or mice in the cave, or, at worst, guards surrounding them.

What he hadn’t expected to see when he opened his eyes was a pair of glowing golden eyes and the snarling muzzle of a wolf, inches from his face, baring its teeth.

Chapter Text

There was much Sirius didn’t know about Acrasia.

That land had been conquered by vampires a thousand years ago, and ever since, it had carried a bloody and intricate history. Moreover, its very nature was complex in itself, for it was said the land had been cursed by Mother Nature, and that curse had rendered its wildlife and forests unnaturally strange. Sirius was sure he’d heard something about this in one of those dull history lessons, but he couldn’t quite remember.

What he did know about Acrasia was that it was home to many animal species, yet wolves had never been among them.

Akrasia had no wolves. Everyone who lived on its soil knew that.

Dogs? Certainly.

Foxes? If you were lucky, you might spot one or two near the border.

Wolves? You must be hallucinating. Better check the last blood you drank, it was probably tainted and making you see things.

Perhaps it was because of the spoiled blood he’d drunk the previous day while fleeing. No one truly knew what drinking century-old blood might do to a vampire. Hallucinations could easily be one of the first symptoms.

Fantasy or reality, the first thing Sirius saw when he opened his eyes was a pair of furious golden eyes glaring down at his bloody red ones. The second thing he noticed was the heavy weight of a wolf pinning him to the ground, its paws pressing against his chest, just a little more pressure, and his ribs would shatter, his heart crushed beneath the strength of that great, majestic creature.

It felt as though the Angel of Death had been standing only a step away from him these past few days, taking every chance to threaten his life. Sirius only needed a moment’s rest. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he’d escaped certain execution, starvation, and pursuit by the guards.

The third thing he noticed, though it probably should have been the first (but give him a break, his brain was trying to process a thousand things at once), was that the creature looming above him was far larger than any ordinary wolf. Almost the size of a man, or even—

When the creature finally stepped off his chest and began to transform, Sirius felt an even heavier weight settle there.

If he’d had any doubts before, now he was certain: what he was seeing couldn’t be real. There was no way this was actually happening. Blood poisoning must have been a known problem among vampires, because surely he couldn’t be staring at a wolf slowly turning into a man.

The brown wolf gradually shifted into a tall human with dark skin and messy brown hair. His body was covered in a scattering of old scars, freckles, and faint moles. Sirius couldn’t tear his wide eyes away from the man’s bare torso, and only when someone threw a thick wool coat over the werewolf’s shoulders did he realise they weren’t alone.

Clearing his throat, Sirius slowly sat up and glanced around. James was in a similar position, except that instead of a wolf sitting on his chest, there was a man in uniform standing over him, holding a spear to his throat.

Even though the iron spear couldn’t truly harm him, James had his hands raised in surrender.

Sirius could now make out at least ten others in the cave besides themselves. All were dressed in woollen clothing and armed.

“The only reason I’ve chosen to speak with you peacefully instead of separating your heads from your bodies,” said the newly transformed werewolf, who seemed to be the leader of the group, “is because I’ve been given direct orders not to kill anyone. So before I change my mind, tell me how you crossed the border and set foot in Asena.”

“You call this peaceful?”

“Asena?!” Sirius and James exclaimed in unison, and once again Sirius realised he really needed to teach his brain how to prioritise properly.

Asena?! They were in Asena?!

That was impossible. Sirius was almost certain no vampire had set foot in the land of the wolves for nearly a thousand years.

“Look… this must be a mistake—” James tried to get up, but the guard beside him drew the spear closer to his throat the moment he moved, forcing James to raise his hands again. “You do know that this doesn't actually hurt me, right?”

“Maybe not, but before you get to try anything, I'll pull your heart out of your chest, so make sure you choose your next moves carefully.”

James didn’t even try to control the roll of his eyes, but he didn’t protest. He stood up and looked carefully at their leader. “We were just fleeing north, but you have to believe we had no intention of coming into Asena. The borders must have had some issues. After all, they’ve lived a thousand years and a tiny mistake in an ancient spell doesn’t throw away all the hard work of the beloved and powerful sorcerers and—”

He stopped when he saw the werewolf’s glare and drew a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that this must be a technical mistake. We’d be happy to return to Acrasia right now and—”

“There’s no way I’ll allow you to leave Asena now.” The werewolf cut James off sternly and gestured to his guards.

Sirius, tired of the conversation and the way those werewolves were looking down their noses at him, sprang up quickly and, before anyone could stop him, strode to the werewolf leader, grabbed him by the collar of his woollen coat, ignoring the obvious height difference that made the werewolf look terrifying, he shoved him forward and snarled in his face. “Look, Mr. Big Bad Wolf, we don’t have time for this.” He spoke slowly and clearly into his face, his eyes fixed on that pair of hazel eyes. “We can do this the easy way. Tell your pups to clear the path and we’ll return to Acrasia; nobody gets hurt and everyone will be happy. Or we can make it hard, and I can find out first-hand why every history book calls werewolf blood the tastiest.” Sirius could see movement out of the corner of his eye, but the man raised his hand and stopped his guards from attacking, never taking his gaze off Sirius’s blood-colored eyes for a single second.

“How cute that you think your threats frighten me, vampire.” The man said softly, leaning in and lowering his head toward Sirius as if he were picking the vampire’s soul apart with his eyes. “Come on then, attack me. I dare you.”

As he spoke, Sirius felt one of the man’s hands clamp behind his back, pinning him in place, while the other slid gently beneath his shirt and settled directly over his heart. Maybe it wasn’t the best moment for Sirius to be thinking about how much larger the werewolf’s hands were compared to his own and how easily they could puppeteer his body. Sirius really needed to pull himself together and reprioritise; the threat of death should have been his brain’s first concern, but instead he found himself thinking about the size of the werewolf’s hands.

“I want to know how much of my blood you can get before I have your heart in my hand.” Sirius could feel the threat was real. The werewolf’s sharp nails were already embedded in the skin of his chest and blood was flowing. The sting from the wound jolted Sirius to attention, pushed other thoughts to the back of his mind, and put his survival instinct at the top of the list.

“I can break your hand.” Sirius didn’t back down. “Before you can do anything else.”

“I’d like to see you try.” The werewolf said calmly into his face. “But know this: if you succeed and harm me or my pups, it’ll backfire on you. See, the Alpha expects us to be back by tonight, and if we’re not, an army of sorcerers and werewolves will, without hesitation, march on Acrasia.”

The werewolf’s nails sank deeper into his chest. Sirius could be sure the threat was genuine. The werewolf’s eyes shone a little brighter, taking on a more golden hue. His nails were sinking to his flesh, and the vampire was convinced that even without his wolf form the man could easily break his ribcage and pull his heart out with no trouble at all.

Sirius turned his head slightly and looked at James, who still had a spear at his throat. When James shook his head, Sirius faced the werewolf and this time took a slow step back. He held his hands out so the werewolf could put the cuffs on him and, without dropping his stance or softening his self-righteous tone in the slightest, offered them up. “Alright, Wolfie. Cuff me. Let’s see what Asena has in store for us.”

***

Sirius didn’t know which outcome was worse. To return to Acrasia and be tried and executed by his own people, or to go with the wolves to the palace of Asena to also be tried there and, very likely, executed.

In either case, everything was against Sirius, and he was only trying to make it to the end of the day by any means necessary, which, given that he was walking barefoot and in torn clothes across the snow of Asena with a pack of wolves, felt almost impossible.

The leader of the wolves, whom Sirius later learned was called Lupin, irritated him more than anything. He seemed outwardly calm and collected and had taken it upon himself to pull Sirius along on a chain, but Sirius could hear the quick thud of his pulse and the rush of his blood when he prodded at him with words.

That was why Sirius had made it his mission to grind away whatever last thread of patience the young werewolf had as they marched.

“Do you werewolves always go completely naked after you shift?” Sirius asked as Lupin pulled the chain and led him forward. “I mean, isn’t it a bit embarrassing? To turn into a wolf and know that when your body changes back, people are going to see your bare arse?”

Not everyone would have realised that Sirius was anything but a prisoner here . He mocked the guards, particularly Lupin, and kept walking over every one of their nerves.

He strode across Asena as if the land belonged to him: purposeful steps, no fear, back straight, chin up. As if it didn’t matter that by the end of the day his life might be taken by sworn enemies.

If he was going to die, he’d rather die as what he was.

As Sirius Black, son of the Black family, the most powerful vampire family.

As the Prince of Acrasia and its true heir.

Not as a pitiful prisoner wasting his last moments on begging and fear.

“Nothing’s more shameful than killing others to stay alive,” Lupin said; Sirius turned his head towards him.

“And how did you decide I need to kill someone to survive?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head to look up at the tall werewolf.

“For being a bloodthirsty creature who brings only death and destruction.”

And there it was again: the quick heartbeats, the rush of blood, the heat of skin. Remus kept his calm demeanour, but to Sirius the truth was as plain as anything. Every word landed on the werewolf, and Sirius couldn’t help feeling victorious.

He took a few measured steps closer to Lupin and offered a broad grin that bared his fangs. “My my… seems like you know everything about me, wolfie.” He slowly dragged his tongue across his sharp fang and met Remus’s gaze with dark eyes. “And yours just smells so good. You know, I haven’t fed since last night. Now that my nature is so clear and defined to you, how about I use you as a little snack? After all, I can’t help it. It’s in my nature to bring death and destruction.” Sirius threw Remus’s feigned innocence back at him and cocked his head.

Lupin only rolled his eyes and shook his head. He was still trying hard to keep the mask of indifference on, but Sirius was nothing if not relentless.

“What’s the matter, wolfie? Don’t you like that?” As Sirius finished, he hissed and lowered his head as if about to lunge at Remus’s throat, a move that made several guards rush forward, though in the end it was Lupin who grabbed his long hair and pulled his head away to prevent an attack.

Sirius burst out laughing. Lupin’s mask had fallen from his face, revealing his furious expression in full. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed red, and a vein stood out on his forehead from anger, all of which greatly satisfied Sirius.

“You think this is funny?” Remus said, clutching a thick handful of Sirius’s hair, twisting it around his fist and pulling hard. Sirius could easily have broken free, perhaps even broken his hand to make it clear that his delicate curls, beautiful even in their current untended state, were not to be handled that way. But with the guards around them now watching closely, he knew it wasn’t worth the trouble.

“It’s a little funny, yeah,” Sirius said with a grin, locking eyes with Lupin’s furious ones.

“You might not realise exactly how much trouble you’re in, little vampire,” Remus growled, tugging again, “but let me make this perfectly clear. The only reason you’re still alive is because of a direct order from the Alpha. Rest assured, every single one of us would be more than happy to tear that smirk off your face with our teeth. If you haven’t heard, we werewolves aren’t exactly famous for our good tempers. So before one of us loses it and shows you who really holds power here, I suggest you drop the smart remarks. Maybe then you’ll manage to buy yourself one more miserable day for you and your friend.”

With that, he shoved Sirius forward so roughly that he nearly fell face-first to the ground, but managed to steady himself at the last moment.

As a prince and the sole heir to Acrasia, Sirius had never before been treated with the slightest hint of disrespect. Except for those final three days in prison, he was accustomed to everyone bowing in reverence wherever he went, speaking to him with a trace of fear and respect. To be treated this way, especially by a species he had always heard spoken of as lesser, made his blood boil, tempting him to do something reckless.

Still, the werewolf had been right about one thing. Here, Sirius had no real power, and one rash move could endanger not only his own life, but also James’s, and perhaps even the lives of the people of Acrasia, everyone he cared about. He might have been willing to gamble with his own safety, but James was a line he would never cross. He had already surrendered once, knowing there was no way to safely cross Asena’s borders, and he wasn’t about to undo that decision now.

So, in the end, he swallowed his fury and the sting of humiliation behind another wide grin that showed his fangs clearly, straightened his posture, and said, “You really can’t take a joke, wolfie.” Then, with deliberate nonchalance and without provoking any more of the furry creatures, he continued walking through the snowy forests of Asena.

***

Asena, despite its cold and endless snow, was more beautiful than Sirius had imagined. It wasn’t long before their path opened onto city roads and the thick forest slowly thinned out. The houses, unlike those in Acrasia, were small and simple. There were no extravagant or peculiar architectural designs to be seen. In the streets and beside the shops, most of the children ran about in their wolf forms, their playful howls filling the entire town.

Everywhere Lupin and his small troop walked with their two prisoners, the townsfolk stepped aside with a hint of respect. The wolves bowed their heads, and the people nodded to Lupin. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed that the two prisoners among them belonged to another species. Sirius and James kept their heads lowered so the colour of their eyes wouldn’t give them away. As far as Sirius knew, werewolves’ sense of smell wasn’t as sharp as their own; they couldn’t identify another species just by scent from a distance. Vampires, however, excelled at this. They could smell the blood in someone’s veins and recognise their kind instantly, even without seeing their eyes. Growing up only among vampires, Sirius had never fully appreciated just how different that was.

At least, not until now.

Werewolves had a warmer scent than vampires. Their blood smelled like hot chocolate poured over snow, just as tempting, rich, and sweet. Vampires, on the other hand, carried the scent of cold metal, like rusted iron in a damp forest. In comparison, the werewolves’ aroma was far more pleasant, and Sirius had to fight hard against his own thirst to keep it from taking control.

Their walk northward continued, and the farther they went, the colder the air became and the thicker the snow grew. Sirius could no longer control the violent shivering that shook his body. His bare, frozen feet barely managed to drag his weight along the ground. He was certain his lips had turned blue, and he could see how pale and wounded his feet were, yet not a single one of those bastards offered him even a coat.

Time had lost its meaning, and now that Sirius was too cold to speak, the journey felt even more torturous. It took nearly an entire day, at the slow pace they moved, to finally reach the capital city. By then, Sirius was so exhausted and weak that the guards ended up dragging his thin body across the biting, icy ground. The cold and his struggle against the gnawing hunger had drained so much of his strength that, when the guards finally threw him and James into a prison cell, he didn’t even protest. He simply curled his frozen body into a corner and shut his eyes.

James wasn’t faring any better. Even he, usually full of chatter and restless energy, silently moved closer to Sirius’s cold body so they could share what little warmth they had left. Eventually, both of them fell asleep, unaware of what plans the enemy’s castle had in store for them.

***

The soft touch of sunlight on his cheek made Sirius open his eyes.

For the first few moments, he looked around in confusion. For a fleeting instant, he thought he was still in Azkaban, his half-conscious mind failing to recall the events of the previous day. Gradually, though, he realised that this new cell was different. More light streamed in through the narrow window, and his hands and feet weren’t bound. He felt hungry and weak, but not nearly as much as he had when the enchanted chains had held him in Azkaban.

Slowly, he sat up, rubbing his half-open eyes with the back of his hand. Bit by bit, everything came back to him, and he found himself gazing at James, who was curled up asleep in the corner of the cell. Thanks to the sunrise and its faint light, the air wasn’t as cold as the day before, but for someone who had lived his entire life in Acrasia and had hardly ever seen snow like this, it was still bone-chilling. Especially since the only clothes they had were the ones they’d worn while escaping, and Sirius was still barefoot.

He nudged James’s shoulder gently with his foot, trying to wake him.

“Rise and shine, pretty boy,” he murmured. His voice lacked its usual spark; it sounded almost sad.

James opened his eyes and, like Sirius, blinked around in confusion at first. But once he remembered where they were, he quickly sat up and grabbed his glasses from the floor.

“Morning,” he said.

Sirius nodded and waited for him to fully wake up. James was one of those vampires who could start his day the moment he opened his eyes. Unlike Sirius, who needed a few hours of silence and at least one cup of coffee before he could face the world.

“So… what now?” James finally broke the silence, staring at him through the lenses of his glasses.

“Honestly? I’ve got no idea. But the fact that they haven’t killed us yet… that’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

James rolled his eyes. “They’re treating us more fairly than our own land did.”

That drew a humourless chuckle from Sirius. He was a prince of Acrasia, yet back home he’d been sentenced to execution after a sham trial, while here, their enemies had at least given them a chance to live long enough to defend themselves.

“Did you ever think the land of wolves would end up being safer for us?”

“We still don’t know what they’re planning to do with us,” James reminded him. Sirius only shrugged.

“If we’d stayed in Acrasia, the guards would’ve found us by now, and we’d be back in Azkaban.”

“The faith you have in me and my plan is truly touching. I’m flattered,” James said dryly.

“In the end, maybe we could’ve lasted another day or two in hiding,” Sirius said, “but our scent wouldn’t have stayed hidden forever. The guards would’ve tracked us down eventually.”

James didn’t seem to disagree. Their plan had been doomed from the start, and honestly, the fact that he’d gone through with it anyway spoke volumes about his kindness and loyalty. That was just so like James, risking his own life to save Sirius’s, even when there was no real hope their plan would succeed and everything was bound to fall apart in the end.

But it seemed Sirius was fated to die regardless. The only thing left for him to do now was to steal another day from his numbered ones. To live through one more sunrise before the night claimed him again.

Maybe this was the last dawn he would ever see.

Either way, the trial today would decide everything.

Lupin had mentioned that they’d be meeting the Alpha today, but hadn’t said a word about when or where, or why such a trial even needed to take place.

“You know, all of this feels a bit suspicious, doesn’t it?” James’s voice broke through his thoughts again.

Sirius hummed softly, his gaze fixed on the sun climbing higher through the small window above their cell. “Absolutely. That cave we were sleeping in wasn’t far from Acrasia, and it wasn’t part of any inhabited region. No one should’ve even known we were there, unless they already knew where to look.”

“And on top of that,” James added, “Lupin said the Alpha’s direct order was not to kill us. Plus, their army was already preparing for an attack on Acrasia.”

“They knew they were going to find two vampires there,” Sirius said slowly, “or at least, that they were going to find something.”

“Maybe this whole thing’s bigger than a simple malfunction in the border magic,” James sighed, squeezing his eyes shut behind his glasses. “Maybe it’s a lot bigger than anything we can imagine.”

“Brilliant,” Sirius muttered bitterly, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Once again, I get to be the unwilling participant in some grand historical event.”

After a few moments of silence, Sirius rested his head on his knees and looked over at James. His long curls fell over his left shoulder, offering him a faint trace of warmth. “What do you think Effie and Monty are doing right now?” he asked quietly.

The mention of his parents clearly dampened James’s mood. It was obvious he was far more worried about them than Sirius was. “There’s a chance they weren’t caught,” he said, though his weak attempt at reassurance only sounded sadder than his defeated expression.

Sirius didn’t respond. He preferred, like James, to pretend that Effie and Monty weren’t currently being tortured under his mother’s command, that they were safe somewhere. Even though, deep down, he knew that was almost impossible.

About half an hour later, two guards opened their cell door and stepped inside to escort them out. Sirius could smell the sweet, warm scent of their blood, and it took all the restraint he had not to give in to his instincts and attack. His hunger was becoming unbearable, and the enticing aroma of the guards certainly wasn’t helping.

One glance at James was enough to see he was struggling too, though he was far better at controlling his impulses. Since he despised drinking blood altogether, he resisted the urge as long as he possibly could and only fed when absolutely necessary.

Both of them were led out of the prison.

Once outside, Sirius, now a little less weak, and no longer so frozen that his nose felt like it would fall off, finally had the chance to properly take in his surroundings. And now he understood why this land was called the White Paradise.

Seeing the massive trees coated in fresh snow made him realise just how strong nature’s curse was back in Acrasia. Back at home, the trees were frail and dying, barely managing to sustain the animals that the vampires fed on.

But here, the trees were tall and sturdy, and despite the cold air, still lush and green. The sound of birdsong filled the silence, and Sirius could spot a few squirrels darting about among the branches.

As they walked farther, the werewolves’ castle came into view. Unlike the vampires’ castel, this one wasn’t enormous, nor was it built with strange or extravagant architecture. Like their homes, it was simple and unadorned, yet that simplicity didn’t make it any less beautiful.

At the castle’s entrance stood a massive stone statue of a wolf, which Sirius assumed represented the Alpha. The enormous beast stood upon a rock, snarling downwards with its teeth bared in a menacing display. At the base of the stone, at least ten swords were embedded into the ground, their meaning completely unknown to Sirius.

Two guards dressed in different uniforms opened the gate for them, and the voice of someone announcing their arrival could be clearly heard. From the corner of his eye, Sirius could see how restless James was, shifting from foot to foot. He himself wasn’t much calmer, and it took every ounce of self-control he had to keep his confident expression steady and not appear weak or frightened before the Alpha of the wolves. He wanted to act like the prince he was, even if this meeting ended with his death sentence.

His and James’s death sentence…

No. He couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t let such thoughts corrupt his mind and take control. There was still one meeting with the Alpha standing between him and death, and if that was all he had to defend himself, then he was damn well going to make the best use of it. He would put every bit of strength he had into delaying death for one more day, buying himself and his best friend one more sunrise.

Besides, Effie and Monty had risked their lives to save him. Sirius couldn’t simply let down those who, throughout his entire life, had never once let him down.

The Alpha’s audience hall was a long chamber with a marble floor. A narrow turquoise carpet, adorned with golden patterns, stretched across the hall up to the steps that led to the Alpha’s throne. Behind the throne were three tall, narrow windows reaching up to the ceiling, all framed in gold. The sunlight filtered through them in such a way that it cast shimmering, star-shaped shadows upon the turquoise carpet.

On either side of the golden steps leading up to the Alpha’s throne stood two more wolf statues, though these looked far calmer, less aggressive than the ones at the entrance. In this depiction, both wolves were seated peacefully on short pillars, gazing ahead in the most obedient posture one could expect from a wolf.

One statue was smaller than the other, and if Sirius remembered correctly, that was the Alpha’s mate, the one who took charge in the Alpha’s absence. The Alpha himself looked fierce and unyielding, whereas his mate was portrayed with gentleness and serenity.

On the right-hand side of the hall stood three closed doors, their destinations unknown. To the left, a series of archways led into a corridor that seemed to end at a staircase spiralling upwards.

Upon the Alpha’s throne sat a man who looked to be in his fifties, leaning back comfortably. A wool coat covered his broad shoulders, and his clothing differed from everyone else’s present, yet there was no crown or emblem upon his head.

The seat belonging to the Alpha’s mate beside the throne was empty. At the foot of the steps, beside the two statues, stood two girls whose scent and eye colour told Sirius at once that they weren’t werewolves.

Sorcerers.

It wasn’t all that surprising. Sorcerers and werewolves had long maintained a close relationship, and it was only logical that such ties had endured through the years. Still, Sirius hadn’t expected to see them here.

“You stand before Lyall Lupin,” one of the guards began the formal introduction. “The rightful leader of the werewolves, ruler of the land of Asena, and the Alpha chosen by Luna.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Sirius and James were forced by the guards to kneel before the Alpha. Sirius could feel the Alpha’s piercing gaze upon him, a look that challenged him, as though it sought to bore through to his very soul.

Even so, Sirius didn’t look away. The man’s eyes told him clearly that all the power here belonged to him and that Sirius was nothing more than a prisoner. Those hazel eyes tried to pour fear into Sirius’s spirit, but Sirius intended to fight it with all he had.

“Thanks to the aid of the sorcerers, for nearly a thousand years Asena has seen no trace of blood-sucking creatures like yourselves. But two days ago, a forewarning prophecy was sent to us. To be certain, I dispatched a team to inspect the borders of Acrasia.” The Alpha’s voice filled the hall. Deep, resonant, commanding.

The chamber fell utterly silent; even the birds outside seemed to have stopped singing, unwilling to interrupt him. “I had ordered them not to harm anyone or anything, and whatever had occurred, I intended to investigate personally. In truth, I had expected many possibilities, except to find two… vampires.”

Sirius had never heard anyone utter the name of his kind with such loathing before. Then again, this was the first time he’d ever spoken to the ruler of a species other than his own.

“Believe me, Alpha, we’d quite like to know what happened oursel–”

His words were cut off as the Alpha raised his hand.

“Silence,” the Alpha commanded, his voice slightly louder this time. Sirius clenched his jaw, exchanged a glance with James, then turned his gaze back to the Alpha, lips pressed tightly together, waiting for him to continue.

“You will have the opportunity to defend yourselves and state your account of events.”

How generous of you, Sirius wanted to say, but he bit back the remark. His life was quite literally in the man’s hands, and Sirius wasn’t about to risk it, not even for the satisfaction of a sarcastic jab. For now, he would keep his tongue and pretend to respect the old man.

“But before that. Dorcas, would you mind?”

The girl standing beside the smaller wolf statue, dark-skinned, with striking emerald eyes, nodded once and stepped forward with slow, composed grace. Sirius tilted his head in confusion, looking up to meet her gaze.

“This might hurt,” Dorcas said, though she didn’t sound the least bit sorry about it.

Her hands came up to either side of his temples, and an instant later, Sirius felt a violent surge of energy pierce through his skull. His eyes widened as a burning shock flooded his mind. He tried to wrench himself away from the sorcerer’s grasp, but he couldn’t even move. A searing current of power was pouring straight into his brain, as if he’d been struck by lightning. From somewhere far away, he could hear James shouting in protest, but it sounded distant.

When the girl finally stepped back, the torrent of energy vanished all at once, and Sirius collapsed to the floor from the sudden void it left behind. He heard the sound of scuffling, and moments later, James was at his side, an arm around his waist to steady him, brushing his hair back and trying to check if he was all right.

“What did you do to him?” James snarled at the Alpha, his voice darker than Sirius had ever heard it.

“Relax. It's merely a simple truth spell. No need to make such a scene.” Judgement and mockery were both plain in Dorcas’s tone.

When Sirius finally felt steady again and the dark spots faded from his vision, he gave James’s hand a faint squeeze and sat up straight. He lifted his chin, regaining that same air of confidence, as though he hadn’t been writhing in pain mere moments ago.

“Your distrust is admirable, Alpha.” Sirius could feel a wall forming in his mind, a barrier that filtered his words, allowing nothing but the truth to pass his lips. “Now that the show’s over, may I explain what actually happened?”

The Alpha didn’t seem the slightest bit moved by Sirius’s sharp tone. 

“Go on.”

“As I was saying,” Sirius continued, locking eyes with the Alpha without a trace of fear, “we’ve no idea why the borders failed, or how we ended up in Asena. We had no intention of harming anyone, our crossing into this land was purely accidental. There’s probably been some kind of malfunction at the border. After all, they’ve been working for nearly a thousand years.”

The Alpha still looked unimpressed.

“And even if that were true, could you explain what exactly you were doing so close to the border that you ‘accidentally’ crossed it? As far as I know, the lands near the border are uninhabited, and due to the danger of contact, no one ventures near them.”

“We were running from the guards, and looking for a safe place to hide.”

The truth slipped out before Sirius could stop himself.

“I’d been arrested for the king’s murder, and James helped me escape. We needed somewhere to hide, as far from the palace as possible. One of my friends had a cabin near the border, that was where we were heading.”

Sirius hadn’t intended to lay all his cards bare before the Alpha like that, but it seemed his words were no longer his own to control.

Now, the Alpha appeared somewhat intrigued. He shifted in his seat, furrowing his brows.

“You killed your king?”

“I didn’t kill him!” Sirius snapped immediately. “I was framed. Someone wanted me dead, but I still don’t know who.”

“But the king is dead. And in his place…?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“You’re going to tell me the king of Acrasia didn’t appoint an heir?” the Alpha werewolf’s voice was rife with scorn, and it made Sirius blood boil. It was true he’d never been close to his father, but that didn’t give that werewolf licence to mock his father’s legacy and his people so casually.

“I am his heir!” The words, full of anger, burst out before he could stop them. Silence fell over the hall again. No one seemed to have expected to hear that. From the corner of his eye Sirius could see James looking even more anxious, and with good reason. If anything could be worse than a vampire in Asena, it was the vampire prince and heir to Acrasia. A lone vampire might not cause too much trouble, but a royal vampire on the run? The best recipe for disaster.

Sirius caught the Alpha’s scornful glance sweep to the red-haired sorcerer standing by the larger statue, and for a second he was certain the next order would be for his head to be lopped off.

But what came from the ruler’s mouth was precisely the opposite.

“Unchain them.”