PROLOGUE
16 YEARS AGO
The stars in the night sky gleamed ahead as the Light family ran for their lives. As the head royal family of vampires, it was crucial for them to outrun the dreaded Mori chasing them. They ran at an abnormal speed across a meadow and into a forest.
“Faster!” yelled Mark Light, who was carrying his baby girl Faith in his arms and leading the group. His two brothers and their wives trailed behind him with their children. James was ushering Beth, who was clinging to their son, Michael. David, the youngest of the three brothers, was running alongside his wife Lily. He was carrying their twins, with Jack in his arms and Mitchell on his back.
Suddenly there was a grunt, then a scream coming from the back of the group.
“James!” Beth cried, and then let out another gut-wrenching scream.
Everyone stopped running and turned around to help James fight the Mori that had caught up to them. Mark reached around Lily to pluck Michael from Beth’s hands before she dragged him into the fray. He shoved Faith and Michael into David’s arms.
“Get the kids to safety and I’ll protect Lily. You’re too young and not strong enough to fight the Mori,” Mark said, before he rushed away again.
David hurried back into the forest as fast as he could while trying to hold onto the four children. He found a tree whose trunk was split in two, and put Michael and Jack down inside while Mitchell slid off of his back. He handed Faith to Jack, and before he rushed away he said to Jack “You look after your cousins and brother. Daddy will be right back.” Jack nodded with sincerity too old for his meek six years.
When David reached the meadow again, it was too late. He felt his stomach clench as he gazed upon the carnage before him. Blood soaked the grass and pieces of flesh lay strewn everywhere. Over a dozen Mori bodies were on the ground in various stages of decomposition. When a vampire fed from someone with HIV, they contracted the disease which turned them into blood-thirsty creatures with rotting flesh. Among the Mori corpses, David saw the bodies of his family. James lay sprawled on his back with his throat torn out next to Beth, who had died the same way. Mark was a few metres away next to Lily. David staggered to his dead wife and let his tears run down his face.
“David.”
David turned sharply at the sound of his name, and saw that Mark was still alive. He hastily rushed to his dying brother’s side.
“Keep. Faith. Safe,” Mark choked out, and then he died.
David’s anguished cry echoed through the night. After one last glance back at his dead family, he left the meadow for the last time and went back to the children.
When he arrived back at the tree, it was to find Mitchell and Jack sobbing quietly.
He hurried over to them and cradled them under his arms. “Shh. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.
“No, it’s not,” Jack cried. “They took Faith.”
David turned sharply to face his son. “What?”
Mitchell looked up with tears in his eyes. “Faith’s gone.”
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