[Tessa’s POV]
The days at House Nyx pass in a blur of impossible revelations and careful adjustments to a life I'm still not sure is real.
I stand in my chambers, and try to reconcile the girl who was cast out to die with the heir to the most powerful vampire house in existence. The reflection in the mirror looks the same. Feels the same. But everything else has shifted so fundamentally that I barely recognize my own life.
The conversation with Silas comes back to me in fragments, late at night when sleep won't come.
We sat in his private study after I'd recovered enough from the sunrise ordeal to hold a coherent conversation. The room was all dark wood and older magic, filled with books that probably predated most vampire houses.
"Your mother's name was Constance," he'd said quietly, hands wrapped around a glass of blood wine he never drank. "She was... everything. Sharp-minded, fiercer than anyone gave her credit for, stubborn as hell." A faint smile. "You have her eyes. Her stubbornness too, I suspect."
I'd sat there, numb, trying to imagine a mother I never knew. "Tell me about her."
So he did. How they met during a territorial dispute between houses, how she'd called him an arrogant fool to his face and somehow that was when he fell in love. How she laughed like summer rain and argued politics with the best of them.
How she wanted children but they'd waited, wanting to be sure the timing was right, that they could protect any heir from the power-hungry vultures always circling the throne.
"We thought we had time," Silas said, and his voice cracked. "Centuries, potentially. We didn't know about the prophecy until you were born. Didn't know about the Blood Moon's significance until it was too late."
"Tell me how she died," I'd said. Not asked—demanded. Because I needed to hear it from him.
His hands had tightened around the glass until I thought it might shatter.
"There was an attack. I'd been called away—a territorial matter at the northern borders that I thought required my immediate attention. They waited until I left."
His voice was hollow.
"A group of fanatics forced their way into the birthing chambers. They thought..." He stopped, breathed. "They believed the prophecy meant Constance would overthrow the existing order. That she'd raise you to take power, to bring chaos. The mother was the first danger, they said."
The room had felt too cold. "Where were the guards? Your people?"
"Dead or dying by the time they breached the inner chambers." Silas's jaw worked. "I was hours away. By the time word reached me, by the time I got back..."
His eyes closed briefly. "She was already gone. You were in your cradle, covered in—" He couldn't finish.
The image made something twist in my stomach. Still does.
"After that, I had a choice," he'd continued, voice rough. "Keep you here and make you an open target, or hide you where no one would think to look. So I let the world believe my daughter had perished alongside her mother. Gave you to the D'Alessandros with instructions to raise you quietly, tell no one what you were. I thought if everyone believed the threat was eliminated, you'd be safe."
"You saved my life."
"I let you grow up without knowing who you were." His dark eyes—my eyes—had met mine with devastating clarity. "Without power, without protection, without a father. The D'Alessandros were good people, loyal, but they couldn't give you what you needed. And then you married Ravencrest and—"
He'd stopped himself. “You already know the rest.”
The guilt in his voice had been palpable. Still is, when he looks at me sometimes, like he's cataloging all the years he missed.
But it was the conversation with Sebastian that still sits uncomfortably in my chest.
I'd been training—trying to, anyway, under Sebastian’s watchful eye from the sidelines, those unsettling silver eyes tracking my movements with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
"You're telegraphing every move," he'd said flatly. "Anyone with decent training would have you on your back in thirty seconds."
I'd stopped, breathing hard, sweat cooling on my skin. "Then perhaps you should teach me instead of criticizing from the sidelines."
"Perhaps you should focus less on form and more on not getting killed."
The casual cruelty in his tone had made my temper flare. "Is there a reason you're here, or do you just enjoy watching me fail?"
He'd pushed off the doorframe, moved into the training room with that slight hitch in his step. Up close, he was even more imposing—tall, broad-shouldered, radiating controlled violence.
"I'm here because Silas wants you alive for the Acknowledgement," he'd said. "Which means I need to make sure you don't do something stupid between now and then."
"How considerate."
"It's not about consideration." His silver eyes had pinned me in place. "It's about duty. You're the heir to House Nyx now. That makes you my responsibility whether I like it or not."
The words had stung more than they should have. But I'd swallowed the hurt, lifted my chin. "Well. Don't let me keep you from your more enjoyable responsibilities."
Something had flickered across his face. Annoyance, maybe. Or possibly respect. With Sebastian, it was impossible to tell.
"Before the ceremony," he'd said abruptly, "there's something you need to know. I'm going to announce that you're under the protection of House Nightfall."
I'd blinked. "What?"
"House Nightfall. My house." His tone suggested I was being deliberately dense. "I'm the head of it, such as it is. When I declare protection, it means anyone who harms you answers to me personally."
"I don't need—"
"You do." He'd cut me off, voice hard. "You think the acknowledgement makes you safe? It makes you a target. Every house that fears change, every vampire who profits from the current order, every remnant of that cult—they'll all be watching. Waiting. One declaration won't protect you. But two will make them think twice."
I'd studied him, trying to understand. "Why would you do that? You just said I'm an obligation you don't particularly enjoy."
"I said you're my responsibility." His jaw had tightened. "There's a difference. I don't have to like you to keep you alive. That's what I do. That's what I'm good at."
"How reassuring."
"It should be." He'd stepped closer, and I'd smelled leather and night air and something that made my pulse jump traitorously. "House Nyx might be the most powerful vampire family in existence, but I'm the one they send when words stop working. When someone needs to understand that actions have consequences. So when I stand behind you at that ceremony and tell everyone assembled that you're under my protection, they'll know exactly what that means."
"And what does it mean?"
His smirk had been sharp, cold, utterly without humor. "It means they'll have to go through me first. And no one wants to do that."
He'd left after that, and I'd stood there in the empty training room, heart pounding not from the exertion.
Now, after the Acknowledgement ceremony, I understand what he meant. I've seen how other vampires look at Sebastian—with fear, respect, and something close to awe. I've heard the whispers about the Silver Death, about what happens to vampires who cross House Nyx's Enforcer.
And I knew that when I’d walked into that throne room for my public Acknowledgement, I'd have two protections: my father's name, and Sebastian's promise.
I'm still not sure which one makes me feel safer.
Or which one terrifies me more.