The Invitation
The morning was cold and still, the usual quiet of Amelia’s home broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves outside. Lyra and Eryon sat across the table from their guardian, their moods subdued after the previous day’s tension.
A sharp tapping at the window drew their attention. A sleek raven perched on the sill, its beady red eyes fixed on them. Tied to its leg was a gilded envelope, the intricate black and gold design unmistakable.
Amelia’s face darkened as she rose to retrieve it. Her fingers trembled slightly as she untied the letter and broke the wax seal. She read the contents quickly, her expression growing grimmer with each passing second.
“What is it?” Lyra asked, her voice hesitant.
Amelia set the letter down carefully, her movements deliberate. “It’s from Nightshade Academy,” she said. “You’ve been summoned.”
“Nightshade?” Eryon’s brows furrowed. “That’s the academy for… them.”
“For vampires,” Amelia corrected, her voice sharp. “The elite of the Vampire King’s court.”
Lyra’s stomach twisted uneasily. “Why us?”
Amelia’s gaze shifted to the twins, a rare flicker of vulnerability crossing her features. “I’ve worked hard to keep you hidden, but you’re at the age where your absence raises questions. This invitation is more than a summons—it’s a test.”
Lyra and Eryon exchanged uneasy glances.
Amelia’s voice hardened. “You have to go. If you refuse, they’ll come here, and we won’t survive the scrutiny.”
Eryon’s jaw tightened. “And if they find out—”
“They won’t,” Amelia interrupted. “Not if you listen to everything I’ve taught you. You must hide your true nature. No transformations, no outbursts, nothing that hints at what you really are.”
Lyra’s throat felt tight. “What if we fail?”
Amelia reached across the table, her hands gripping Lyra’s and Eryon’s firmly. “You won’t fail,” she said, though her tone betrayed her fear. “You can’t.”
Later that afternoon, the raven returned, leading a black carriage that appeared out of the shadows. The driver, pale and silent, motioned for the twins to board. Amelia fussed over them one last time, straightening their clothes and brushing strands of hair away from their faces.
“You know the rules,” she said, her voice trembling. “Stay together. Keep your heads down. And never, under any circumstances, transform.”
Lyra hesitated, glancing back at Amelia as the driver gestured impatiently. “What if we’re discovered?”
Amelia’s reply was grim, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then you’ll never make it out alive.”
