37 + Flashback +

Desperately seeking a means of escape, Luna probed her mind for remnants of Hecate's magic. In her frantic search, she stumbled upon an unexpected memory. Before her, the scene morphed, revealing a young woman, her eyes filled with adoration, looking up at the Vampire King. She was swathed in a dress of black velvet that whispered of elegance.

Lilith, recognized as the first High Priestess, had luxuriant auburn hair cascading to the floor. It shimmered, alternating between gold and reddish-copper hues, influenced by the play of light. Her gunmetal eyes, like liquid mirrors, shifted in shade, reflecting her every emotion. Despite her youthful visage, she wielded immense power in the Vampire Court. Declared the first High Priestess by the Vampire King, she was an enchanting vision, sought after by many. The King's evident fondness for Lilith, treating her with both the familiarity of a sister and the reverence due to royalty, set her apart.

Luna could almost feel the electric thrill that coursed through Lilith when the Vampire King took her hand, leading her gracefully across the ballroom floor. Each touch, each glance, seemed to ignite a gentle fire beneath her skin.

The Blood Beast sensed Luna delving into his memories. He attempted to wrench her from the vision, but she clung to it, sensing its importance—believing it might hold the key to her salvation.

The memory shifted, and Luna witnessed Lilith navigating a long, narrow staircase, leading deep underground. Her footsteps echoed lightly, causing the aged wooden steps to groan in protest. Upon reaching the base, she heaved open a hefty door, revealing dimly lit prison cells beyond.

The scene that unfolded was harrowing. A glimpse into Lilith's heart revealed a dark vendetta—retribution for the Vampire King's indifference to her profound love.

The ground was darkened with ominous, rust-colored stains—the aftermath of Lilith's sinister rituals. This place was a testament to her vengeance.

In the face of the Vampire King's choice of another as his Empress, her jealousy had festered into a venomous rage. Lilith had yearned for that title, longing to stand by his side. She had loved him with every fiber of her being, yet he had spurned her advances, denying their potential union.

Around her, five females lay bound, their forms tethered to cruel metal spikes that anchored them to the earth. Their flesh served as canvases for bizarre symbols painted in dark ink, their patterns mirroring the eerie symbols daubed on the walls. Crimson gashes marred their bodies, from their abdomen to their limbs. Four had already met their torturous end, left to bleed out in prolonged suffering.

But the fifth—a fragile human woman—still writhed, every cut searing pain into her flesh. Her eyes, wide and brimming with horror, flitted to Lilith, revulsion choking her voiceless screams. This final sacrifice was essential to Lilith's vendetta: the blood of a female vampire, a fae, a shapeshifter, a witch, and now this human. The culmination of her dark design to summon an archdemon potent enough to bind the Vampire King's soul to the fiery depths of Hell for all eternity.

With an air of cold determination, Lilith approached a table, her fingers deftly selecting a brownstone bowl and a gleaming dagger. A cruel smirk graced her lips, swiftly replaced by a look of intense focus as she deployed her magic, paralyzing her final victim. It was said, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned', and Lilith embodied this truth. With ruthless precision, she sliced through the woman's throat and drove the dagger deep into her heart.

Luna could only watch in frozen horror as the woman's features grew pale, her body giving one final convulsion before succumbing to stillness. Life fled from her eyes, leaving them dull and lifeless.

Without a hint of remorse, Lilith proceeded to collect the lifeblood draining from the human into a crude earthen bowl. With blood-smeared hands, she carefully retrieved Hecate's grimoire, its coarse leather bindings feeling rough under her touch. She turned its slick pages, eager to complete her dark ritual.

The basement was enveloped by a potent magical barrier, the handiwork of the first High Priestess. This arcane shield was designed not only to protect but also to alert her of any intrusions, ensuring no one would disrupt her dark ritual until the full moon's culmination.

Shaken by the harrowing vision she had witnessed, Luna swiftly retreated from the depths of that memory. Yet, in the backdrop of her consciousness, a name blazed with urgency. Drawing it forth, she rasped it out, even as the Blood Beast's blood threatened to choke her.

"Ravin."

That single word carried weight. It was the very essence of the Archdemon of Gluttony, the Blood Beast's true name.