“Crave!” Rogue’s voice cuts through my shock. “What the fuck did you do?”
I can’t answer.
I can’t look away from Sloane’s suspended form, watching the light beneath her skin grow brighter, watching her body begin to change in ways I don’t have words for.
Oracle steps forward, bursting into flames, his phoenix fire flaring so intensely that his entire body becomes a translucent flame. His ancient eyes are wide and ghostly white, reflecting Sloane’s crimson-gold orb. He has foreseen something, his foresight powers burning into action, and when he speaks, his voice carries the weight of five centuries.
“The Crimson Dawn has awoken.” Each word lands with the quiet weight of a stone sinking into still water. “A Blood Witch has been ignited.”
“A what?” Dread moves closer, his fear projection unconsciously spreading, making the air thick with dread. If I had a heart that could beat, it would be pounding furiously.
“Blood Witch.” Oracle’s flames dance higher. “In all my years… through every death, every rebirth, every cycle of fire, I haveneverseen this happen. It is such a rare phenomenon. They were thought to be extinct, the bloodline all but gone.”
Sloane’s orb pulses brighter, and I feel it in my chest. Whatever is happening inside that sphere of light, it’s rewriting Sloane at a fundamental level, breaking her down and building her back up into something new.
Something dark.
“This truly is…” Oracle trails off, searching for words, “… miraculous. And utterly terrifying.”
Hades circles the orb cautiously, his necromancer senses reaching out. “I can’t read her death anymore. She’s not mortal, but she’s not undead either. She’s become something that exists between.” His white eyes snap to me. “What did you give her, Crave?”
“My blood,” I manage, my voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it. “She was dying. I gave her my blood to save her.”
“You awakened her,” Oracle corrects. “Your blood was the catalyst, but this power was always inside her, dormant, waiting.” He turns to face me fully, and I see genuine fear in his expression. “Do you understand what you’ve done? Do you comprehend what she’ll become when the transformation completes?”
I don’t.
But I’m about to find out.
The orb begins to shrink, collapsing inward. The light doesn’t dim, it concentrates, becoming so intense it’s almost solid. Sloane’s body descends slowly, her feet touching the bloodstained floor with ethereal grace.
The sphere contracts until it’s skin-tight, and then it shatters. The shockwave blasts outward, and every supernatural being in the room staggers. The windows that were still intact crack, walls groan, while the very foundations of the clubhouse shudder under the release of her power.
And Sloane opens her eyes.
They’re not hazel anymore.
They’re molten. Crimson and gold swirling together, a fusion of liquid metal and living fire given form and consciousness. When she blinks, the colors shift, settling into something that looks almost human but carries an otherworldly glow that will never fully fade.
But it’s what Ifeelthat rattles me.
A connection slams into place between us with the force of a physical impact. Not the gentle pull that’s been building since we met. This is a chain forged from blood and fire, binding us together in ways I’ve never experienced.
I feel her heartbeat as clearly as my own would be if I still had one. I feel the blood rushing through her veins, hot, alive, and evil in the most intoxicating way. Every breath she takes resonates in my chest. Every thought that crosses her mindbrushes against my consciousness, a whisper I’m not supposed to hear.
And I know, with absolute certainty, she feels it too.
She feels my hunger, my fear, my desperate relief that she’s alive. She feels the Bloodfire burning in my veins, reaching for her across the space between us, ravenous and desperate for sustenance.
This isn’t a sire bond.
I’ve created thousands of scions.
I know what that connection feels like, one-directional control, master and servant, creator and created.
This is something entirely different.
This isfusion.
