My fangs are still sharp.
Immortality clings stubbornly to my bones.
But the depth is gone.
The abyss inside me, the thing that made even monsters hesitate, has been scooped out, leaving behind an echoing emptiness that makes my skin feel too tight, my body foreign, my existence suddenly exposed.
I am still me.
But I am no longerallof me.
And then the bond ignites.
A violent surge slams through me, scorching and incandescent, as if lightning has found a direct path into my chest. Sloane’s rage erupts, star-bright and self-destructive, her fury crashing into my collapse with terrifying force. It wraps around the hollow places inside me, burns against the absence, anchors me when my body threatens to fold inward on itself.
Her determination locks onto me, an oath written in fire, fierce and unyielding, a promise that refuses to let me disappear.
I may be on my knees.
I may be diminished.
Butsheisrising.
“Easy, brother,” Rogue murmurs, his hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got you.”
“You have until dawn to prove your Blood Witch is worth the chaos she represents,” Nyx says, and her voice carries genuine regret with an almost sadness in her tone. “And we will investigate the downtown incident. If Viktor truly used ashapeshifter to frame you, that changes things. But it doesn’t erase what you did by creating her.” She pauses. “I hope she is worth it, Draven. For both your sakes. Because if she fails…” The shadows around her surge. “Wewillerase everything you’ve built. Every brother, every woman, every soul that carries your mark. And you will watch before we end you.”
Then, before I can gather my strength to stand, they’re gone.
Not gradually.
Not with fanfare.
One moment they’re here, and the next, nothing but the echo of their presence lingering like a bad dream.
I push myself to my feet, supported by Rogue and Scorch. My body feels diminished, mortal in ways I haven’t experienced in thousands of years. “Everyone inside.Now. We have hours to prepare, and I just got demoted to an entry-level vampire.”
“Can you fight?” Scorch asks, his concern bleeding through despite his attempt to stay stoic.
“I’ll have to.” I stagger toward the clubhouse, each step reminding me how much I’ve lost. “Because if Sloane loses control tomorrow, we’re all dead anyway.”
Something passes between us, her resolve hardening, crystallizing into an unbreakable force.
I won’t lose control.
I won’t let them take you.
Any of you.
Beneath her words, something ancient stirs, its vastness eclipsing my Bloodfire the way the sun swallows starlight.
She’s stirring.
The real Blood Witch is finally waking up.
And dawn is going to be either our salvation or our funeral pyre.
Chapter Eighteen
