“In some ways,” she said gently. “In others, I am keenly aware of what I am. I’m immortal, but it isn’t natural. I was frozen once the vampire turned me.”
“That makes me sad,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
Her expression softened, and she smiled at me.
“It shouldn’t,” she said. “I’m still here, and for that, I’m grateful. But the Priestess made a choice or a bargain, andsomehow, she’s not immortal like I am, but she sustains. The distinction is important. A bite made me what I am today. What’s keeping the Priestess going is very much a mystery.”
I thought back to the vision I’d had of the Priestess in her study, shoving something into her drawer, looking around nervously like she sensed me watching. There was something there she didn’t want me to see. Was that what was keeping her alive, versus something the vampires lent at the confrontation just days ago?
I swallowed, and my eyes met Stella’s. “When the vampires helped the orcs… did it work?”
Keegan’s eyes shifted toward Stella again.
“It did.” Her voice was steady, certain. “He’s very much alive, but he’s no longer just an orc. We were controlled. There was no frenzy or excess taken.”
“I doubt the Priestess knows what she unleashed.”
Stella’s gaze sharpened.
“If Mariselle sensed the alliance in its full potential,” she said, “she would have intervened.”
The thought pressed into me before I could block it.
Vampiric orcs.
Stronger. Hungrier. Bound by two instincts instead of one.
Dangerous.
“It worked because it was deliberate,” Stella continued. “It wasn’t born from greed or hunger. It was from quiet desperation. That is the difference.”
Keegan leaned back slightly. “You’re saying alliances are safe when they’re chosen.”
“I’m saying,” Stella corrected, “that alliances forged in panic often rot. Alliances forged with clarity can hold.”
I wrapped my fingers around my cup again.
“She’s destabilizing territories,” I said. “Forcing movement. Forcing clustering.”
“Yes,” Stella agreed.
“And if those clusters look to her for structure…”
“They will lose themselves,” Stella finished.
Silence settled between us.
I stared down at the grain of the wooden table.
“I don’t want forced unity,” I said quietly. “I want intentional proximity.”
“You want the Academy to be the meeting ground,” Stella said. “And an option for those who’d like guidance.”
“Yes.”
“Not assimilation.” She nodded like a punctuation mark.
“No,” I agreed.
