Chapter 5 Blood Knows Blood

Chapter 5 – Blood Knows Blood

The deeper Isaac followed Selene, the more the underground shifted.

The halls no longer felt like architecture. They felt like a living thing-pulsing with old power, echoing with forgotten language. The walls were carved with scenes that flickered when he passed: men and women with eyes of fire, their veins like lightning, standing over creatures that defied shape. Some were dying. Some were kings.

He couldn't tell which scared him more.

"How big is this place?" he asked.

"Depends who you ask," Selene said. "To some, it's a tomb. To others, a temple. To me-it's home."

"And what is it to me?"

Selene glanced at him over her shoulder. "That's what we're about to find out."

She led him into a circular chamber lit by floating orbs of golden light. Runes covered the walls, and a shallow bowl sat on a pedestal in the center of the room, filled with a thick, mercury-like liquid that shimmered silver and black.

"This is the Pool of Echoes," Selene said. "It only responds to Serpent-blood. Your reflection will show you more than your face."

Isaac didn't move. "What happens if I look and I'm not... whatever this is?"

She smiled faintly. "Then it shows you exactly what you fear."

Isaac swallowed hard.

And stepped forward.

He leaned over the bowl.

At first, he saw only his reflection-tired eyes, dark circles, the same scar above his right brow he'd had since he was twelve. But then the surface rippled.

His reflection changed.

Not aged. Not distorted.

Transformed.

Golden eyes. Scales faintly glowing beneath skin. Hair like shadow-smoke. And behind him-a silhouette. Tall. Hooded. Crowned with serpent horns. Watching him.

Isaac stumbled back.

The bowl went still.

Selene caught his arm before he fell. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

"You saw it," she said. Not a question.

He nodded slowly. "What the hell was that?"

"Your potential," she said. "Or your fate. Maybe both."

He turned to her. "You knew I'd see something."

"I hoped you would. It means the blood has claimed you."

"Claimed? You make it sound like I don't get a say."

"You don't."

Isaac pulled away from her. "Why me?"

She hesitated.

Then: "Because your father was one of us."

Isaac froze.

"What?"

Selene's face darkened. "He was marked. A long time ago. He disappeared before we could bring him in. We thought he was dead."

"He is dead."

"I know," she said quietly. "But not before he passed it to you."

Isaac backed away from her, from the bowl, from the room.

"I never knew him," he said. "He left when I was a kid. My mom never told me anything."

"She couldn't," Selene said. "The hunters keep tabs on bloodlines. They make sure silence stays silence. The fact you're alive at all means someone was hiding you."

Isaac's chest tightened. "You're saying my mom knew? That she protected me from this?"

Selene's gaze dropped. "Maybe. Or maybe she was part of it."

Isaac's stomach turned.

He wanted to run. To scream. To smash the bowl and walk away from everything.

But he couldn't. The blood wouldn't let him.

And neither would the city.

Because in that moment, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

A single text. From Maya.

I think someone broke into your apartment. I'm going back to check.

Isaac's blood turned to ice.

He didn't remember moving. Just running. Feet pounding, mind racing. Selene shouted something behind him, but the world blurred. The underground spat him out into Thorn Market, and he sprinted down alleys and shortcuts, heart beating faster than it should've been able to.

By the time he reached his building, the door to his apartment was wide open.

He took the stairs three at a time.

"Maya?!"

No answer.

He burst through the doorway-and froze.

The place was trashed. Books shredded. Furniture overturned. A black scorch mark smeared across the floor.

And in the center of it-

Maya.

Still breathing. Barely.

A glowing knife stuck from her side. Blood dark on her shirt. Her eyes fluttered when she saw him.

"Isaac," she whispered.

He dropped to his knees beside her.

"No no no no-hold on-"

He tried to pull the knife and felt a jolt of magic shoot through his fingers. It wasn't just a weapon-it was a marker. A message.

They knew who she was.

They knew she mattered.

Maya gritted her teeth. "They... they said your name. Said you'd brought this."

His throat tightened. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She grabbed his wrist, blood-slick and shaking.

"You have to survive," she whispered. "You hear me? You don't quit."

Then her hand went limp.

And Isaac Marshall screamed.

The kind of scream that cracks things open.

That wakes the blood.