Chapter 5: Before Midnight

Forgive me, Father, for what I’m about to do. For what I’m about to do to my family.

“I must say… this is a lot to take in,” Moeletsi says. He pauses before continuing. “The arrival of the fallen angels has finally come. Never did I think I would live to witness it.”

It’s clear this has hit him hard. When he saw Lucy, it was almost as if he couldn’t fully register what he was seeing—like his mind was refusing to accept it.

We in Southern Africa have prepared ourselves for this truth, but if I weren’t a lycan, I think I would be just as afraid as Moeletsi is now.

Unfortunately, there is still more to come.

Then the question Alix and I have been dreading finally arrives.

“Why did you flee with this child to us?”

I glance at Alix. I’ll tell him.

Moeletsi waits, holding his breath.

“We fled because we were attacked,” I say quietly.

“Attacked?” Moeletsi asks, confusion creasing his face.

“Yes. Attacked—by our own family.”

He frowns. “Why would your family attack you? It was not your fault that the fallen angels came here. I believed your family would have helped you in this situation.”

I lift my arm and turn it so he can see.

His eyes settle on the brand—Ella’s handprint burned into my skin.

“What is that?” he asks.

“The child’s mother branded me,” I say. “The child recognizes me through it. I’ve become connected to both the mother and the child on a deeper level.”

Moeletsi exhales slowly. “I think I can see where this is going.”

“I couldn’t give up the child to my family,” I continue. “They would have killed her.”

“Can we even kill these fallen angels?” he asks.

There it is.

The point of no return.

Alix and I exchange a glance, both of us knowing what we’re about to do.

I hesitate—just for a moment—then continue.

“We are not human, sir. Not the Durand family.”

I can hear Moeletsi’s heartbeat quicken.

“Our ancestor, Henri, came to Southern Africa carrying a dark curse with him. The fallen angels created an army of beasts to conquer France. Henri was one of those beasts—but through some miracle, he retained his humanity. That curse passed on to his children… and the rest is history.”

Moeletsi doesn’t respond right away. He looks stunned—confused, shaken, and speechless all at once.

“The Durand family has ruled Rose since the beginning,” I say, “preparing for the return of our creators—the fallen angels—to wage a war that will determine whether we survive at all.”

“My other brothers would want the child dead. One of them pursued us, and if it wasn’t for her, we probably wouldn’t be here now,” Alix says, joining the conversation.

Moeletsi’s expression hardens. “Do they know you are here?”

“We believe so,” Alix answers.

Moeletsi leans forward, resting his forehead in his hands. He lets out a long sigh.

When he looks back up at us, his voice is quieter, heavier.

“You’ve put me in a very difficult situation,” he says. “His Majesty the King must hear this.”

The decision is made quickly after that.

Moeletsi leaves the room, and when he returns, his tone is firm and final. We are to wait. The King is in council and will not be disturbed until the meetings conclude. Just before midnight, we will be summoned.

The hours that follow stretch longer than I expect.

We are given a place to rest at Moeletsi’s lodgings. Guards rotate to stand watch outside, their presence quiet but constant. Alix and I don’t talk much. I try to rest, but my thoughts refuse to settle. Every sound outside tightens my chest, every passing minute bringing us closer to something I can’t yet see.

When the summons finally comes, the city lies dark as we head toward the King’s palace, deeper into the heart of Thabeng. The air grows cooler as we approach the King’s enclosure, the mountain rising behind it like a silent witness.

This is it.

After a few more minutes on the road, we finally arrive at the palace.

I just want to get this over with. The suspense is eating away at me.

We climb out of the bakkie, and I lift Lucy’s pod from the back. I can feel the guards’ stares on me, heavy and unwelcoming. I imagine they’re not pleased with the idea of bringing the “enemy” into their kingdom.

Before we reach the stairs leading up to the palace, Moeletsi pulls us aside.

“Just so you’re aware,” he says quietly, “I did speak with His Majesty. He needed to know beforehand what you told me — and about the child.”

“Makes sense,” Alix replies.

I glance back at the city below, swallowed by darkness. Something feels off. My senses prickle with unease.

“C’mon, Lucian,” Alix calls.

“Coming,” I reply.

We begin climbing the stairs. I suppose it’s for the best that Moeletsi spoke to the King beforehand. They’ve likely already decided how he’ll respond to us.

At the top, Moeletsi stops us one last time.

“I don’t think I need to tell you how to behave before His Majesty,” he says. “Remain calm. Speak only when spoken to.”

Two guards stand watch at the entrance. At Moeletsi’s signal, they open the doors.

We follow him inside.

Suddenly, a sharp sound echoes through the hall — like a gunshot. My muscles tense, but I force myself to remain calm. Did I imagine it?

I look at Alix’s back. Her heart rate is elevated, but that’s to be expected. She doesn’t turn, doesn’t react. She would have heard it too if it were real.

You’re being paranoid, I tell myself.

The hall is dimly lit, candles scattered throughout the room. Animal skins and trophies line the walls. Several metres ahead stands the throne, and before it, three figures with their backs turned to us. I can hear them speaking in low tones.

As we draw closer, the men turn. At the centre stands a man dressed in traditional attire, animal skin draped over his shoulders, a crown resting upon his head.

The King.

We stop. Moeletsi steps forward.

“Your Majesty, I have brought the siblings as requested.”

The other two men move aside as the King seats himself upon the throne.

“Thank you, Moeletsi,” the King says, his voice deep and steady. His gaze settles on us. “Step forward, children of Apollinare Durand.”

We obey.

“I am King Moshobane of Thabeng,” he continues. “There is no need to be so tense in my presence. Speak.”

“Thank you for seeing us, Your Majesty,” Alix says, bowing her head slightly.

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty,” I add. “It means a great deal to us.”

The King studies us for a moment before speaking again.

“This is… unexpected. What Moeletsi told me was not easy to hear. Like him, I never thought this day would come.”

He pauses.

“I met your father on several occasions. I respected him greatly. He aided me during a difficult time — a debt I have never forgotten.”

His eyes darken slightly.

“Yet there was always a shadow over him. I believed it was the weight of his crown. Now I see it was something more.”

So, the King knew my father personally.

I wonder what it was my father helped him with.

“I do not see you or your family as an enemy, regardless of your true nature,” the King says. “If your family truly sided with the fallen angels, they would have conquered the whole of Southern Africa long ago, had they wished it.”

His gaze sharpens.

“However, if what Moeletsi has told me is true — that your family now hunts you for fleeing with that child — then I must consider how your father would respond to me sheltering you, and by extension, aiding our enemy.”

He pauses.

“You have placed me in a difficult position.”

This doesn’t sound good.

“Your brother, Gabriel, reached out to me,” the King continues.

My chest tightens. Are we too late? Did he convince the King to give us up?

“He requested that you, along with the child, be returned to Rose.”

“Your Majesty, please—” Alix begins.

“Let me finish,” the King says calmly.

He rises slightly in his seat, his voice steady but firm.

“I do not believe one flees their home without cause. Seeing the brand upon your arm, and the child with my own eyes, has altered my judgment. With what I know now, I believe that child would be in grave danger if returned to your family.”

He looks between us.

“If two such beings have already crossed into these lands, then others will not remain far behind.”

When that time comes, we will need every ally we can find — even if your family cannot yet see it that way.”

Alix swallows. “So… you will grant us passage into the Zulu Kingdom?”

“Yes,” the King replies without hesitation. “I will grant you passage. I believe this is the right course — and that the child will play her part when the time comes.”

Alix bows, and I follow suit.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she says.

The King’s words are still hanging in the air when it happens.

Something presses inward.

Not a sound at first — a pressure, deep and sudden, as if the air itself tightens around my chest.

Then it comes.

A roar tears through my mind, primal and raw, carrying a weight that forces me half a step back.

And within it—

“Lucian.”

The name is not shouted.
It is claimed.

My blood turns to ice.

Beside me, Alix gasps sharply. Her fingers clamp around my arm, hard enough to hurt. I don’t need to look at her to know she heard it too — not with her ears, but somewhere deeper.

The roar fades, leaving a ringing silence behind it.

Around us, nothing moves.

The King’s advisors remain still. The guards at the doors don’t react. King Moshobane’s expression doesn’t change.

They didn’t hear that.

A heartbeat passes.

Then a different sound reaches us — distant, distorted by stone and distance. A low, bestial roar echoing faintly through the city.

This time, everyone hears it.

The King’s head lifts slightly.

The doors to the hall burst open as guards rush in, breathless and shaken.

“Your Majesty,” one of them says, struggling to steady himself, “there’s… something in the capital.”

Another roar carries in from far off, followed by shouting — distant, chaotic.

“It didn’t come through the gates,” another guard adds. “It crossed the border walls. No one saw it clearly.”

“Panic is spreading,” the first guard continues. “Fires in the lower quarters. People are fleeing the streets. Whatever it is, it’s moving fast.”

The King’s gaze hardens.

“This is no ordinary beast,” one of the advisors mutters.

Alix’s grip tightens.

The pull in my chest returns — sharper now, more insistent. I know, with sickening certainty, that the chaos unfolding outside isn’t random. It’s paced. Measured.

This is a hunt, not a charge.

It’s him.
Alexandre.

He doesn’t want to be seen yet.

He wants to be felt.

King Moshobane rises slowly from his throne, his expression controlled but alert.

“What is happening?”

Alix and I exchange a look.

“We’re not certain,” Alix says carefully. “But this isn’t Gabriel’s doing. You should contact Rose — request aid only. Do not reveal that you know more than you should.”

She hesitates.

“If this is one of our kind, your men won’t stop it. Focus on protecting your people.”

The King doesn’t hesitate.

“You heard her,” he says to one of the advisors. “Contact Rose. Now.”

He turns sharply to the guards. “Do not engage it unless absolutely necessary. Secure the city. Protect our people.”

He steps toward us, decision made.

“If it has come for you, then we cannot keep you here.”

He gestures to a guard. “Prepare an escort.”

“Moeletsi,” the King calls, already moving. “Fetch the vehicle. You’ll have to take them to the border yourself. I must stay behind to get the city under control.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Moeletsi replies, turning toward a side entrance.

“Head to your vehicle. Moeletsi will meet you outside,” the King says. “We’ll keep the beast occupied for as long as we can, but I can’t promise more than that. The border is far. Don’t stop unless you have no choice. Put distance between yourselves and this place.”

We nod.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Alix says.

“Go,” the King replies.

Outside, Thabeng is already coming apart.

Shouts echo through the streets. Firelight flickers against stone. Soldiers move civilians toward shelter while distant gunfire cracks through the night. Somewhere beyond sight, something moves — fast, deliberate, unseen.

Alexandre is here.

We don’t linger.

We hurry down the palace steps and reach our bakkie just as another vehicle cuts across the courtyard from a side road. It skids to a stop nearby.

Moeletsi steps out, a guard close behind him. He gives a sharp signal — follow.

Alix starts the engine and pulls out after him.

As Thabeng recedes behind us, I glance back at the palace, its silhouette barely visible through smoke and firelight. If Alexandre turns his attention there…

“It’s a long drive,” Alix says quietly. “Try to rest if you can.”

She sounds exhausted.

The radio crackles at first — fires contained, wounded transported, confusion everywhere. Then, slowly, the voices thin. Communication fades the farther we get from Thabeng. This land was never built for crises like Rose. Eventually, the radio falls silent altogether.

Sleep takes me unevenly.

The pull tightens even in rest, coiling at the edge of thought — until the world shifts.

I’m standing at the edge of the tower again.

The city glows beneath a burning sky, just as before. Warm. Steady. Untouched by fear.

She’s beside me.

I don’t see her face, but I don’t need to. When she takes my hand, warmth spreads through me, anchoring, quieting the pull without erasing it.

I understand then.

She isn’t shielding me from what’s coming.

She’s helping me endure it.

Dawn is breaking when I wake.

“You were out,” Alix says. “I’m glad you slept.”

“Alexandre?”

“Gone,” she replies. “After the first hour, reports stopped. Damage was extensive. Injuries. Panic. Then nothing.”

Not pursuit.
A pause.

The radio crackles again.

“We’re minutes from the border,” Moeletsi says. “Keep the child hidden.”

Alix nods, tightening her grip on the wheel.

Ahead, the road narrows.

I look out into the dark beyond the headlights, the pull faint but present.

I know you’re out there.
What are you planning?