BLOOD BOUND: MY WITCH MATE

The basement of Ashwick City Archives smelled like forgotten things-old paper, leather bindings, and the musty odour of centuries of accumulated dust. Sera Thorne had long since stopped noticing the smell. She'd spent too many nights down here, alone among the stacks, for it to bother her anymore.

The only sound other than the old building's sporadic settling groan was the buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead. The main floors above her had been cleared out hours before. Sera had the entire archive to herself at almost midnight after the day workers had left at five and the evening researchers had started to leave by eight.

Just the way she liked it.

Coughing as dust blew into her face, she took another leather-bound book off the shelf. Only a year had passed since the murder that had condemned her people when the novel was written in 1625. The stamped date on the spine, worn smooth by time and innumerable hands, was traced by her fingers. How many of those hands had belonged to others who shared her quest for the truth?

Documents littered the table in front of her, a meticulous mess she had created. She took pictures of documents she wasn't legally allowed to view, copied pages, and transcribed notes.

It all revolved around the execution of Morgana Thorne and the demise of King Aldric Ashcroft.

The ancestor of Sera. Ten times removed, roughly, her great-great-great-grandmother. The woman whose alleged crime had sentenced every witch who came after her to a life of hiding and fear.

Opening the volume, she skimmed through pages of official vampire documentation. The majority of it was pointless, including trade deals, property transfers, and the routine operations of a monarchy. But in the last three years, she had developed patience.

She had learnt to sift through mountains of irrelevant information for tiny grains of truth since her grandmother's death, when she was left alone with nothing but questions and a desperate need for answers.

Morgana was innocent, according to her grandmother. Had tried to prove it her entire life. Sera was carrying the torch now, burning it in this dark place where nobody could see.

She was drawn to the following line: "Council meeting, 15th day of September, 1624."

Discussion regarding concerns about the king's proposed reforms..." Her pulse quickened. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the page. King Aldric had been planning reforms. She'd found oblique references to this before, but never details. What kind of reforms? Why had they concerned the council enough to warrant a formal meeting? She flipped pages, looking for more, but the next entry jumped forward a month.

Everything that had been addressed was either lost or had never been documented in this specific volume.

Rubbing her weary eyes, Sera reclined in her chair. It always went like this. Bits and pieces of knowledge, glimpses of something bigger, but never enough to create a whole picture. Because she so much wanted them to exist,