That renders me mute, and I gulp down any kind of reaction. The memory of so long ago, Sierra telling me a story of a half breed child who died at the hands of the wolves... She was the child of the vampire king, and her blood was spilled by the Lycans. If she was Draculesti and I am too... the fates really are trying to redress the balance and put things back to rights. It's all slotting into place and if this wasn't about me, I would be fascinated and excited at the piecing of the puzzle, but instead I can't breathe. I have to force my face back...