Blood Freed (Vampire-Cursed #4)

1. Chapter 1

1

Chapter 1

Mia

I t’s over. My God, I can’t believe it’s over. I sink into the warm strength of my father’s arms and let the fear and desperation seep out of me.

“You’re going to be just fine,” he says gently. “He’s gone now.”

“Gone?” I blink in confusion. Is he talking about Soren? “What do you mean gone?”

My father strokes the hair from my face, brushing his lips over my forehead. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got you now.”

“But, Dad—” The gravel crunches under my stumbling feet as Dad half-carries me toward the line of waiting vehicles. Headlights blind me, and I struggle to focus as I twist in his grip, searching desperately for Soren’s van through the sea of faces. “Dad, please… Soren…”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart,” Dad murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “That vampire can’t hurt you anymore.”

My knees buckle. “No! No – no, he can’t be dead!”

“Not yet.” Dad’s voice is grim. “But if he makes it, his fate will be a matter for the Conclave to determine. Execution would be too good for him.”

Oh, thank God, he’s alive.

But captive… Execution?

I have to do something.

“Mia!” Mom rushes forward, her hands trembling as she touches my face. “Oh, my baby girl…”

Seeing her makes my heart swell with joy, and I melt a little as she winds her arms around me and pulls me close. “Mom,” I choke. “Mom! I missed you so much.”

“Baby…” My mother is sobbing, shaking as she keeps me close. For what feels like a lifetime, we hold each other, crying.

But then the anxiety surges again.

“Dad,” I turn to my father, “we have to do something.”

“Yes. We’re leaving now,” he says firmly.

“No. You don’t understand!” I tug against Dad’s hold. “Soren helped me escape. The Maker’s Bond was killing him – we have to go back!”

“Go back?” Dad frowns. “Sweetheart, we’re taking you home. Where we can take care of you.”

Gran appears beside us, her green eyes sharp with concern. “Mia, darling, you’re safe now. Whatever that creature made you believe—”

“He didn’t make me believe anything!” My voice cracks as I fight harder. “He protected me, kept me alive when the others would have killed me. Please, listen to me!”

“Stockholm Syndrome,” someone whispers from the crowd. I catch glimpses of Kara and Rowan hovering uncertainly in the background, their faces etched with worry.

“She’s hysterical,” Mom says softly, stroking my hair. “We need to get her away from this place.”

“I’m not hysterical!” Magic pulses through me, making the nearby cars’ headlights flicker. “Soren sacrificed everything to save me. How can you just stand here while he faces death?”

But they’re already pulling me toward the vehicles, exchanging concerned glances over my head. Their hands are gentle but firm, their voices soothing as they dismiss my increasingly frantic pleas.

“It’s the trauma talking,” Gran tells the others. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying!” I twist in their grip, desperately searching for anyone who might believe me. “Please – you have to help him!”

Dad’s fingers dig into my arm as he practically drags me toward our car. His jaw is set in that stubborn way I remember from childhood – the expression that means his mind is made up, and nothing will change it.

“That bloodsucker had you for a year.” His voice trembles with barely contained rage. “A year of not knowing if you were alive or dead. Of wondering what those monsters were doing to you.”

“Dad, please—”

“They’re all the same – soulless parasites who see us as nothing but food,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken.

“Soren isn’t like that!” I try to pull away, but he holds fast. “He protected me, kept me alive—”

“Mia, sweetheart! Those creatures are incapable of compassion or mercy. Whatever lies this Soren creature told you, whatever act he put on – it was all manipulation. They’re predators, Mia. Nothing more.”

Tears burn in my eyes as I realize there’s no reaching him. Not now, when fear and hatred have hardened his heart against any possibility that he might be wrong.

“He kept me alive,” I insist, my voice cracking. “When the others wanted to drain me dry, he protected me. Everything you think you know about him is wrong!”

Mom rubs my back, her touch gentle but restraining. “We’ll get you home, get you help. Everything will be alright now.”

Why does she keep saying that?

A wave of desperate magic pulses through me. Dad stumbles back, his grip loosening.

“Listen to me!” The words tear from my throat. “Soren is in trouble because he chose to save me! We have to do something!”

But they’re already leading me away, murmuring soothing words, trading worried glances.

“Out of control,” someone says nearby. Others are watching, concerned.

“It’s alright, baby,” Dad is crooning. “We’ll take care of you. I know you’re confused. But there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

“No! I’m not confused! Please! Listen to me!”

They think I’m traumatized, delusional. They don’t understand that with every step they force me to take, we’re leaving behind the one person who risked everything to bring me back to them.

My heart pounds faster with each passing second as they guide me toward the cars. The joy of seeing my family again – a moment I’ve dreamed of for a year – crumbles beneath their dismissive concern. They’re not hearing me. They’re not even trying.

“You don’t understand,” I plead, my voice growing hoarse. “He defied his maker for me. The Maker’s Bond could kill him!”

Mom squeezes my hand. “Shhh, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

“I know I’m safe! That’s not—” I break off as another wave of magic surges through me, making the car windows rattle. The nearby witches step back, startled. After having no hold over it for so long, my power is rolling back in waves that echo the turmoil within me.

“She’s unstable,” someone mutters. “The trauma—”

“Stop saying that!” The words rip from me. “I’m not traumatized. I’m trying to tell you the truth!”

A gentle ripple of water-touched magic washes over the gathering. Marina Tidecaller parts the crowd, her sea-green hair flowing in the night breeze. Her deep blue eyes fix on me with calm assessment.

“Let me see her,” Marina says softly. The others step back, relief evident on their faces as the respected healer approaches.

“Marina, please.” I grasp her hands as she reaches for me. “You have to listen me. Soren saved my life. He’s dying out there because he chose to help me escape.”

She cups my face, her magic cool and soothing as it flows over me. “Your aura is chaotic, dear one. Such trauma can confuse—”

“No!” I jerk away from her touch. “Not you, too! I’m not confused! Why won’t any of you listen?”

“Mia,” Marina’s voice remains gentle, “let me help calm your mind. You’ve been through so much—”

“My mind doesn’t need calming!” Magic crackles around me as frustration builds. “Soren needs help! And you’re all just standing here, refusing to listen!” A car alarm goes off as the windows of a nearby vehicle shatter.

Dammit!

I have to get control over this.

Desperation claws at my throat as I watch understanding drain from their faces. Even Marina, who I’ve known since childhood, looks at me with that same pitying expression. My hands shake as I make one final attempt to reach them.

“Listen to my words,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Feel my magic. You all know me – you know I’m telling the truth. Soren chose to defy his maker, chose to help me escape. That bond is killing him right now while we stand here arguing! How can we call ourselves protectors of life if we let someone die who risked everything to save one of our own?”

My magic flares yet again, and for a moment, I see doubt flicker across Marina’s face. But then her expression smooths, and she reaches for me with both hands.

“Of course, dear one. You’ve been so brave.”

Something in her tone makes me step back. The cool brush of her water magic feels different now – more focused, more purposeful. My eyes widen as I recognize the pattern she’s weaving.

“No! Marina, don’t—”

But it’s too late. Her magic wraps around me like a tide, soothing and inexorable. My limbs grow heavy as the magical sedative takes hold.

The world blurs at the edges as Marina’s magic seeps into my bones. My legs give out, and someone catches me – Dad, I think, from the familiar scent of sage and cedar.

“Soren,” I try to say, but my tongue feels thick and clumsy. The night sky wheels overhead as they lift me, car doors slamming in the distance.

My thoughts scatter, leaving me reeling. I fight to hold onto consciousness, desperate to make them understand. But Marina’s spell pulls me under, gentle yet relentless as the tide.

And then something happens. Not Marina’s magic. Something else.

Soren’s face fills my mind; it isn’t the controlled mask he showed others, but those rare moments when his guard dropped. The way his eyes softened when he thought I wasn’t looking. The tremor in his voice when he told me to run.

Oh, God, Soren. I’m sorry . I’m so sorry I left you there.

Something brushes against my consciousness – foreign yet achingly familiar. For a heartbeat, I feel a flash of pain that isn’t mine, taste blood I haven’t spilled. A whisper echoes through my mind:

Mia…

It’s him! As if he’s in my head…I know that it’s him!

Then Marina’s spell pulls me under completely, and I feel darkness take me.