We stand in silence until he eventually speaks. “I see your fear, Sloane. You’re more afraid of yourself than Viktor.”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
“No… fear is information. Use it. Channel it.” His battle sigils pulse. “You’re afraid you’ll burn everything.Good.That fear keeps you careful. Just don’t let it make you hesitate when hesitation costs lives.”
I don’t reply, concerned he’s right. Instead, I turn and walk back toward the clubhouse.
Inside, Rogue and Reyna coordinate with military precision. The lycan and Valkyrie move around a map, eyes flashing gold.
“Three-person rotations,” Rogue says. “Nobody fights alone.”
“Prospects stay interior,” Reyna adds. “Last line if everything goes to hell.”
Two predators who’ve found purpose in protection.
I keep moving past them, my Bloodfire crackling and sizzling the closer I get tohim,responding to something it recognizes before I consciously do.
I find Crave on the roof as the first hint of gray bleeds into the eastern sky. He doesn’t turn when I approach, but his shoulders shift all the same, the rigid line of his posture loosening by a fraction. The predatory tension coiled through him softens, the sharp edge of his presence dulling when I draw closer. The restless hunger that hangs around him recedes, settling into something quieter, more contained.
I stop beside him, the city stretching out below us, and for the first time all night, the air between us feels… steady. “It’s almost time,” he says.
“I know.”
“I can’t protect you the way I want to.” His hands grip the roof’s edge, his knuckles white. “The Binding… I’m weaker than I’ve been in centuries.”
I step closer, pressing my palm against his back. Through Crimson Sight, I see his diminished power. He is still formidable, still deadly, but mortal in ways that terrify him.
“Then I’ll protect you,” I say.
He turns, silver eyes meeting my crimson-gold gaze. “Sloane—”
“I’m not the woman who walked into your bar.” My voice carries echoes of the Voice of Lilith, power thrumming beneath each word. “I’mnothelpless. I’mnotweak. And Isure as hellwon’t let Viktor take you from me.”
Crave’s hand cups my face, and the air between us hums with everything he refuses to voice. Love sharp enough to hurt. Fear buried beneath centuries of control. And beneath it all, a desperate hope he guards like a weakness.
“Remember who you are,” he whispers. “When the fire rises. When the blood calls… remember.”
I think of Oracle’s tea. Hex’s manic brilliance. Hades’ quiet sacrifice. Scorch and Ronan’s explosive creativity. Dread’s channeled fear. Grizz’s mountain strength. Rogue and Reyna’s strategic minds. I think of this family that chose to stand with us against impossible odds.
“I’ll remember,” I promise.
The sky blooms at dawn, soft and breathtaking.
Below it, Viktor’s army advances, ready to turn beauty into bloodshed.
Chapter Twenty
CRAVE
Pre-Dawn
Surrounded by my brothers, I stand in the center of the clubhouse, and for the first time in millennia, I understand what it means to be afraid of dying.
The realization crawls up my spine, ice cold, settling deep inside me. I’m still faster than most vampires. Still stronger than any human. But the invincibility that’s defined my existence for centuries?
Gone.
One well-placed stake. One blessed blade finding its mark. One lucky shot to the heart, and I’m dust.
