CHAPTER 403: A VISION

Natalie~

I remember those two months like a endless nightmare, a fog of worry that clung to every corner of the palace, suffocating us all. It started the day Vincent rejected Katrina and then ran away. From that moment, my daughter—my fierce, independent Katrina—shut down. She stopped eating, her once-vibrant reddish-blonde hair hanging limp and unkempt. She’d push away trays of food with a weak shake of her head, her voice barely a murmur: "I’m not hungry, Mom." But I knew it was more than that; it was her heart starving, her spirit dimming under the weight of loss.

Zane and I were beside ourselves. We’d lie awake at night, his strong arms around me, but even his Lycan warmth couldn’t chase away the chill of fear. "She’s slipping away from us, Nat," he’d say, his voice rough with emotion, his blue eyes shadowed. "Our little storm... she’s breaking." I’d nod, tears stinging my own eyes, clutching him tighter. As Queen and King, we had a kingdom to rule, but how could we when our family was crumbling? Katrina’s impulsiveness, that fire I loved in her, had turned inward, burning her from the inside. She adored her brother Alexander, always had, even when she chafed at living in his shadow. But now, even he couldn’t reach her. She’d snap at him if he tried to console her, her celestial magic flaring faintly like a warning spark. "Leave me alone, Alex. You don’t get it—you’ve always been the perfect one."

Poor Nicholas bore the brunt of her anger. He was her best friend, practically family since Zane and Sebastian had been inseparable for years. But Katrina blamed him for everything. "If you hadn’t rejected Winter, Vincent wouldn’t have chased after her! He wouldn’t have left me!" she’d scream at him during those rare moments she emerged from her room. Nicholas, with his black hair tousled and dark eyes haunted, would just stand there, taking it like a punch. "Kat, I didn’t reject her—I love her. She ran because she thought I saw her as a monster. I was scared, yeah, but... gods, I’m sorry." His voice would crack, that cocky facade he usually wore shattering into vulnerability. He’d slouch against the wall afterward, brooding, until Winter appeared like a shadow, her enigmatic presence a quiet balm. "Nick, don’t let it eat you," she’d whisper, her shy, cold demeanor softening just for him. "I blame myself too. I showed you my true form, my darkness... and I misjudge your reaction and fled. Vincent went after me because he’s my brother, my protector. If I’d stayed..." Her voice would trail off, vengeful eyes turning wistful, longing for the peace she secretly craved.

Winter and Nicholas’s bond was a fragile light in all this darkness, but even that flickered. She’d try to cheer him with small gestures—a dream-walk where she’d weave gentle illusions of happier times—but then her own grief would surface. "I miss Vincent so much," she’d confess to him one evening in the gardens, her voice enigmatic and low. "He’s all I have left of our family. Mother gone, father imprisoned... and now he’s lost because of me." Nicholas would pull her close, his hybrid strength gentle. "It’s not your fault, Win. We’ll find him. I promise." But his arrogance hid a soft side that was fraying; he’d confide in me later, "Aunt Nat, it hurts seeing Kat like this. And Winter... our mate bond is strong, but this sadness around us, it’s tearing us apart." I’d hug him, feeling like a mother to him too, whispering, "Hold on, Nick. Love like yours and Winter’s—it’s rare. It’ll endure."

Alexander wasn’t faring much better. My son, so wise and strong, blamed himself endlessly. "I was always suspicious of Vincent, Mom," he’d admit over late-night tea in the throne room, his face drawn. "I saw him as a threat, with his shadow powers and that demonic heritage. I made him feel unwelcome, and he took it out on Kat. If I’d trusted her judgment..." His voice would break, and I’d reach across the table, squeezing his hand. "Alex, you’re the heir, protective by nature. But Katrina loves you dearly—she doesn’t blame you." He’d force a smile, but the weight of our situation pressed on him, just as it did on her. "I know, but seeing her in pain... it kills me."

Zane, Sebastian, Cassandra, and I—we were all unraveling, watching our children crumble. Zane and Sebastian, best friends through thick and thin, clung to each other like lifelines. "We’ve got to find that boy, Seb," Zane would growl during their strategy sessions in the war room, maps sprawled out under candlelight. Sebastian, with his vampire charm barely masking the worry in his dark eyes, would nod. "Vincent’s out there, Zane. And for Nick’s sake—for all our kids—we’ll drag him back if we have to." They’d set out personally, Zane’s Lycan senses tracking scents through forests, Sebastian’s speed blurring through nights. "Remember that time we took down Dante brothers?" Sebastian would joke grimly as they rode out, trying to lighten the mood. Zane would chuckle, a rare sound these days. "Yeah, but this ain’t about slaying demons anymore. It’s about saving our families from heartbreak."

Cassandra led her own search parties—vampires and werewolves united under her warrior command. "Spread out," she’d bark at them in the courtyard, her former slayer instincts sharp. "Check every shadow, every whisper of darkness. Vincent doesn’t hide easily, but we’ll flush him out." She’d return exhausted, collapsing into Sebastian’s arms. "Nothing today, love," she’d sigh. "But tomorrow... we keep going." I’d watch them all, my heart aching, knowing she felt the pain as deeply as I did—her son Nicholas suffering, mated to Winter, the sister of the boy they had to find to make her and Nick happy. "Cass, how do you stay strong?" I’d ask her one afternoon over herbal tea. She’d smile faintly, her eyes fierce. "For the kids, Nat. Always for them."

As for me, I handled the celestial searches, reaching out with my light magic across realms. I’d stand on the palace balcony at dawn, palms outstretched, prophecy visions flickering like stars. But Vincent was elusive. I enlisted my brothers, Jacob first, "Little Moon," he said in his deep, resonant voice, materializing out of thin air as he arrived. "I’ll scour the wilds. No shadow escapes the moon’s gaze." Tiger was second, with his green eyes and golden-brown hair, acted as our silent bodyguard. He didn’t speak much as usual, but his presence was a comfort— "Protect them," I’d plead, and he’d nod, strong and handsome, one with nature.

Eagle was next. I needed his keen eyes scanning horizons. "Winds carry tales, Natalie," he told me, his voice whipping like a gale as he also promised to find Vincent. Fox, the fire spirit with his red hair, was outspoken as ever. "This Vincent kid’s got some nerve rejecting our niece!" he went on a rant, flames dancing in his palms. "I’ll burn through any illusion he hides behind." And Bubble—he threatened to flush Vincent out of his hiding place, literally. But in the heat of it all, we laugh weakly at Bubble’s outbursts and Fox’s anger. "You’re too hot-headed, guys," I teased, and they grin. "Better than being cold-hearted like that demon boy." Fox replied.

Even my mother, the Moon Goddess herself, offered solace. She appeared in a shimmer of light one evening in my chambers. "My love," she said softly, her form sparkly and bright like her namesake. "Do not fret so much. Katrina and Vincent will be okay in the end. I glimpse their future—entwined, balanced. But the present... even my goddess eyes find it cloudy." I clung to her words, hugging her ethereal form. "Mom, it’s so hard watching her suffer." She’d stroked my hair. "Strength runs in our blood, Natalie. Neutrality—it’s in you all."

With Zane and Sebastian out searching, Zane’s father stepped back in to handle the kingdom. "Go, son," he’d said gruffly, clapping Zane on the back. "I’ve got the throne. Focus on family." The palace was miserable, echoes of laughter replaced by sighs. Servants tiptoed, whispers of worry filling the halls.

One day, after another fruitless search, I trudged back to our chambers, exhaustion weighing on me like chains. Zane and Sebastian were still out, pushing through the night. I collapsed into bed, the silk sheets cool against my skin. Sleep came fitfully, dreams swirling like storms.

Then, the vision hit—a vivid, pulling force. I found myself in a vast, neutral space, neither light nor dark, humming with ancient power. Before me stood a strikingly handsome man, his features chiseled like a god’s, eyes holding the depth of suns and shadows. "Natalie," he said, his voice smooth and commanding, yet neutral, like a calm before chaos.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my celestial magic flaring instinctively, light pulsing around me. Panic and hope warred in my chest—this felt real, prophetic.

He smiled faintly, enigmatic. "I am Rayma."

I frowned, "Rayma? What do you want? Why am I here?"

"You’ve been searching tirelessly," he replied, his tone even, neither warm nor cold. "For Vincent Shadowborn. I have what you’ve sought. He is safe with me."

Relief flooded me, mixed with fear and suspicion. "Vincent? Where? Where is he? Please tell me."

"I found him lost and broken," Rayma explained, his eyes flickering with something like paternal concern. "But do not worry, Celestial Princess. He heals. I will contact you later—when the time is right."

"Wait!" I cried, reaching out as the vision faded. "Tell me more! Katrina—she’s suffering!"

But the space dissolved, leaving me gasping awake in bed, heart racing. The vision ended, but hope sparked anew.