"All of this talk of blood reminded me that it's a blood moon tonight!" Cora exclaimed. "Want to watch the eclipse from the roof with me Zane?"
"Wow, as exciting as that sounds, I think I will have to pass," he rolled his eyes. "Maybe I will go to the river and get a drink though."
"Like hell you will," their mother scolded him. "If it's a full moon—especially if it's a full blood moon—everyone in the city is likely to be out. Cora you shouldn't even be on the roof for it. It's too dangerous. Just stay inside and we will lock up. They won't be as tempted if they don't see us."
"Mom, we have been here for three years and have never had a problem. What makes you think we will now?" Zane asked.
"It is dangerous to think that way, Z. If you get comfortable, you won't be on guard. And whereas the vampires are afraid of your sister possibly starting their hearts beating, you are not capable of that. They have no reason to be afraid of you," Penelope told him.
"Aside from an eternity of torture," Zane reminded her. "That is worse than a beating heart or death, in my opinion."
When they first arrived in Gray Vale, Prince Grayson gave them a tour of the torture dungeons where vampires where put through the most unthinkable, incomprehensible pain while a thick, black sludge ate away at their insides. It burned through whatever existed within a vampire's body cavity only to do it again after the healing process began. That was how vampires guilty of crimes spent the rest of their days. And the rest of their days were unending.
While Penelope, Cora, and Zane stood horrified at the torture they were forced to witness, Grayson explained that if any vampire dared to threaten them, this is what they would be faced with. This was what it meant to be protected by the royals.
To Penelope, it felt like a lightly veiled threat aimed at her children. The royals couldn't torture her like that, because she was mortal. But should Cora and Zane make the transition into vampirism, they would face this same punishment should they step out of line. And anything Penelope did could be used to punish her children as well.
"Sometimes a temptation is so strong that you can't think logically about the consequences," Penelope told her son. "Please don't go drinking from the river tonight. If you want to try drinking blood to see if it helps you, that's fine. We will bring some home. We can have them connect our faucets to the river…"
"But then how will we get water?" Cora objected to receive a glare from her mother.
They didn't have faucets that routed from the river now because they needed water instead. Would they really sacrifice their water for Zane's experiment?
"We will figure it out," Penelope said through gritted teeth. Cora was missing the point. The point was to keep Zane from endangering himself tonight.
"Zaney, please. Please don't do it tonight. I can't bear the thought of losing one of you, too," she stifled a sob, but her eyes still filled with tears that were always just below the surface waiting to overthrow her carefully controlled facade.
"Okay, mom. I won't. Please don't cry," he said, his black eyes filling with remorse for how careless they had been with their mother's feelings that night. "I will watch the eclipse with Cora. We will be careful, okay?"
Penelope groaned, wiping the tears off her face. At least watching from the roof wasn't as dangerous as walking out amid the undead creatures lured by the pull of the moon. It was the only light that filled the sky in Gray Vale. The vampires never saw the sun, so the moon was the heavenly body they were in awe of. And the full moon was as strong of a pull for them as it was for the lycans Penelope had grown up with.
"Go up through the sky light?" Penelope requested. "Not the side of the house, okay?"
"Of course," Cora smiled, squeezing her mom's shoulder reassuringly. "We will be careful. Maybe I can cover the roof with plants to really scare them off." She winked mischievously.
Penelope chuckled. "Do that and you'll be hearing from her majesty yourself, I'm sure."
"It's so unfair," Cora scoffed. "They want me to use this skill for them, but they won't let me do anything else with it. How do they even know I am still capable of it?"
"Do you feel like you have lost it?" Penelope raised an eyebrow at her daughter. She knew very well that it didn't work that way and so did Cora.
Cora shrugged stubbornly.
"Let's see," Penelope nodded her head, encouraging Cora to try growing something in the house.
"Now?" Cora's eyes went wide in disbelief. She was banned from using her ability—indoors or out.
"No one will know," her mother replied. "It will be our secret. If you are to start a heart tomorrow, it only makes sense that you practice a little here. Her majesty will not be happy if there is a hiccup when it really matters."
"Gee, no pressure. It's only been two years since I had to do it last," Cora grumbled.
"Then give it a try now. There are no hearts to start, but you can at least draw energy from the Veiled around us to create a small life right here," she said.
The Veiled was what fae called the totality of all that was concealed from others' eyes and awareness. It contained energies and auras and the powers inherent in all the elements of nature as well as hints toward multiple dimensions enfolded with the current dimension—all that the fae were able to tap into. It was the source of their abilities.
"Really?" Cora's eyes lit with excitement.
"Yes, go ahead," her mother replied. "We are safe from their eyes here."
Penelope expected her daughter to have to concentrate in order to repeat what she had become skilled at from a young age. Usually it took a great deal of effort for Cora to shut everything else out and align herself with the unseen forces around her. But much to her surprise, a poppy bloom immediately sprung up, poised red and vibrant in Cora's outstretched palm like she had just accepted it as gift from the air with no effort on her part at all.
Penelope gasped. "How did you do that so quickly?"
"They are literally bursting to come out of me," Cora whispered, her expression turning pained as she stared at the little flower. Inside, she was overflowing with the desire to create life all of the time. She wasn't sure how much longer she could contain it like she was forced to in Gray Vale.
"Let me see," Penelope whispered back.
Cora's eyes slid to her mother's, searching for verification that it was indeed alright. When Penelope nodded, Cora simply outstretched her hand and a ring of poppies sprung from the ground of the kitchen to encircle them along with sweet little buds of green grass—colors that they had not seen in over three years.
Penelope's eyes grew wide. She had never seen Cora do this before. It was almost like she had described the flowers chasing her in her dreams.
"You know what that is?" Cora asked, sighing heavily.
"Yes of course," her mother answered. "A fairy ring. Your very own fairy ring."