My best friend, Chloe Jones, and I reached adulthood together. Today marked the moment we would fully awaken to the illustrious witch bloodline that kept the town alive. The town's leader, Countess Elizabeth, presented us with two male slaves, destined to be our loyal companions until we evolved into sovereign witch rulers.   In our previous lives, Chloe had boldly chosen the mesmerizing vampire, while I was left with the brutish werewolf. Chloe's bond with the vampire granted her the gift of immortality, yet she remained unaware that her noble witch lineage had been irrevocably corrupted, reducing her to a mere servant of the vampire. She was compelled to aid him in his quest to become the Blood Ancestor, forever banished from the sun. When the blood hunters invaded our town, she met her end at the hands of silver bullets and holy water while defending the vampire. In contrast, I had always been safeguarded by the werewolf and, with the guidance of the male witch priest, had awakened early, emerging as the most powerful witch ruler. In her final moments, jealousy consumed Chloe, and with her last ounce of strength, she cast a witch's curse, leading to our simultaneous demise.   Suddenly, I found myself back at the male slave selection. Seeing Chloe share a knowing look with the male witch priest, I knew she was back too. She ensnared the werewolf and shifted the vampire onto me. Unbeknownst to her, the werewolf carried a poison in his blood—savage by nature, and on the night of the full moon, driven into a madness that nothing could stop.