Blood Freed (Vampire-Cursed #4)

5. Chapter 5

5

Chapter 5

Mia

T he Conclave chamber soars overhead, its vaulted ceiling lost in shadows despite the hundreds of floating witch-lights. Ancient tapestries depicting magical battles and prophecies line the stone walls. The air hums with centuries of accumulated power. It’s unusual to be here. Normally our issues are dealt with in our homes, or out in nature where we feel most at peace. This place feels formal, stifling.

I sit between Gran and Mom, my hands trembling slightly in my lap. After a year of captivity, the sheer number of people makes my skin crawl. The semi-circular arrangement of ornate chairs holds the eight coven leaders, with High Priestess Seraphina at the center. Her golden hair catches the witch-light, creating a halo effect that only enhances her ethereal presence.

Gran rises, her voice clear and strong. “Honorable Priestess, esteemed leaders, I present my granddaughter, Mia Blackwood, rescued from vampire captivity through the aid of Soren Daire.”

A murmur ripples through the chamber. Seraphina’s azure eyes fix on me. “You have had a terrible ordeal, my dear. We are so glad to have you back in our fold.”

“Thank you, High Priestess.” I dip my head.

“I trust you are feeling stronger now that you’ve had a chance to rest?” Her expression is assessing.

“Much better. Good as new.” It’s not true. My knees still buckle from time to time. My hands tremble. I’m jumpy as hell. It surprises me how badly the whole thing affected me. And it frustrates me, too. I kept my chin up through the whole thing, and now that I’m finally safe, I feel like I’m ready to crumble. I’m not used to feeling this way.

“That is excellent news.” Seraphina’s face warms with a genuine smile. “Cause for celebration. There will be a gathering in the grove. To welcome you home.”

“I would love that.” It’s true that I would. The chance to see familiar, friendly faces after a year in which I thought I’d never see any of them again… I’m eager for it. “But there’s another matter I’d like to address first.”

The priestess looks over at Gran and then back at me. “Go on?”

“The vampire who was with me when I was rescued—”

“He is in custody. You are safe from him now.” She smiles.

“Well, that’s the problem.” I pull in a breath. “He’s not to blame. I want you to free him.”

There’s a collective gasp. Seraphina’s eyes narrow. “I’d been told you were…confused.” She sighs. “I know it will take a while, Mia, but you’ll begin to heal, eventually.”

“I’m perfectly fine!” I say sharply, then modulate my tone. “Really. I’m weak. And I know that I need time to rest and recover. But on one thing, I’m certain, Soren Daire is not guilty of anything aside from defying his own kind, his maker, to save me.”

“You claim this vampire helped you escape. The same one who held you captive for a year?” Seraphina doesn’t look convinced. Nor do the others.

“The situation is more complex than it appears,” Gran interjects firmly. “Soren defied his maker’s commands to ensure Mia’s freedom.”

Morgan Shadowmaster leans forward from where he’d been settled back in his seat, observing silently. “Or perhaps this is an elaborate deception. Vampires are masters of manipulation.”

My hands clench into fists. Before I can speak, Lysandra Starfire raises her hand, moonlight seeming to shimmer around her. “Let us hear the girl’s story before passing judgment. I sense truth in her aura, and pain – but not confusion.”

The other coven leaders shift in their seats, some nodding in agreement with Lysandra. I catch Morgan’s subtle frown as he exchanges a look with someone in the shadows behind him.

“Very well,” Seraphina says. “Mia Blackwood, tell us your tale.”

I take a steadying breath, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. “I was taken right after a coven meeting. They…” My voice catches, but I force myself to continue. “They attacked me and subdued my magic; then I lost consciousness. When I woke, I was in a cell.”

The memories flood back – cold stone walls, the constant hum of dampening spells, the isolation. I shudder, then brush them away.

“Heath Moonshadow was there. He was among those who abducted me.” I keep my tone level. Heath is Seraphina’s nephew. I’m pretty certain this news must have rocked her.

She doesn’t show it. “We have learned of his involvement,” she says. “Rowan updated us after her rescue. He has been taken into custody, and he…will be dealt with.” Sorrow flickers in her eyes for a fraction of a moment.

I press my lips together, not wanting to make it worse for her. “I understand,” I say. Beside me, Gran adjusts her posture. Astra Moonshadow, who is conspicuous in her absence from this meeting, has been Gran’s friend for decades. She’s also Heath’s mother.

This is so freaking complicated.

I continue my story, “The cell I woke up in was in a facility for keeping captured witches.”

“The one we’ve been investigating since your rescue,” the High Priestess says. “This was, indeed, a most troubling revelation. To learn the extent of this activity. So many of you.”

I pause before nodding. “At that point, I had no idea of the numbers, just that there were many of us.”

“That’s unacceptable. Completely unacceptable,” Thaddeus Runeweaver growls. “The abductions have been an issue, yes. But to know that it’s this organized?” He shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as if the whole thing is giving him a migraine.

“And this vampire, Soren – he was your jailer?” Seraphina prompts.

“Yes, but he treated me with respect. He brought me books, made sure I was comfortable.” A sudden wave of dizziness hits me, and my voice trails off.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Seraphina is clearly concerned. “Would you like a break?”

I give a tight smile. There’s something tugging at the edges of my awareness that I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m fine,” I reassure her, pulling my attention back to the discussion. “As I was saying, the vampires were drawing blood from me – from all of us – daily. I couldn’t sustain it. I’m sure the others couldn’t either. Thanks to Soren, this was changed to every second day.”

Someone gives a snort. “Not much of a difference. They were draining you.”

“It was a big help,” I say firmly. “And I know he had to fight to make it happen.” There’s another odd sensation that tugs at me. A feeling of warmth. Familiarity. Like… like…

Like I’m with Soren.

What on earth…?

I can feel him. Like before, when they saved me. I felt him as they took me away. Felt him in my mind. I can sense him somewhere nearby. A connection, though faint, that pulses with shared pain.

“We can’t punish him for this, High Priestess. He risked everything to help me escape,” I say firmly. “The Maker’s Bond nearly killed him. Release him. Please.”

Seraphina taps her bottom lip. “I wish it was that easy, Mia. But this isn’t just about you. There were others held there. Others abducted. He needs to be held to account.”

This is so unfair!

“He had no choice!” My voice has risen dangerously high. “We can’t punish him for something he had no control over!”

Morgan cuts in sharply. “This should be handled by the Blood Assembly. They have jurisdiction—”

“The girl is one of ours,” Lysandra interrupts. “What happened to her – and the others… We must consider all aspects carefully.”

I feel myself sway as another surge of connection hits me. Through Soren’s eyes, I catch glimpses of silver chains, feel the burn of restraints.

Soren! Oh, my God, is it you?

There’s no response, but the sensation doesn’t weaken. He’s near. My voice grows stronger with urgency. “Lucien is the real threat, not Soren. He’s been abducting witches, experimenting with their blood.”

“And you have proof of this?” Morgan asks.

“He was there,” I tell him.

“Perhaps you were mistaken,” he says. “With so much pressure, the trauma—”

Oh, for God’s sake!

“I saw him with my own two eyes,” I say sharply. “On several occasions, he drew my blood himself. And he was not gentle about it.” My jaw sets as I suppress a shudder at the memory of it.

There’s a murmur from the gathered elders. Seraphina raises her hand for silence, her expression troubled. “This has serious political implications. If what you say is true about Lucien Marlowe…”

“It is true,” I insist, even as I fight against the vertigo from sensing Soren’s presence. “Every word.”

The coven leaders exchange significant looks. Aurora Greenleaf whispers something to Marina, while Ignatius Emberstone’s frown deepens. The tension in the chamber builds as they weigh my words against decades of vampire-witch hostility.

The room spins as another wave of connection hits me. Soren’s pain floods me. The silver chains binding him – I can feel them searing into my own skin. I rub at my wrists.

“I need you to listen,” I say, my voice shaking. “He’s suffering. Right now.”

Morgan scoffs. “Theatrics won’t—”

Power surges through me unexpectedly, witch-lights above us flaring brilliant white. The ancient tapestries flutter without wind. “I said listen !”

Driven by frustration, I let my magic flow freely for the first time since my capture. A silvery mist forms in the center of the chamber, forming into a heavy cloud. Lightning bolts light the underside of it. The Conclave members gasp.

“By the goddess,” Lysandra breathes. “This is unprecedented.”

“Mia. This isn’t the place.” Gran puts her hand on my arm, her voice steady and sure.

I heave a sigh, feeling the fight going out of me. “I’m sorry, High Priestess.” I bow my head. “It’s been a trying time, and I’m really battling with the fact that nobody will listen to me. Could you at least let me see him? See that he’s okay? I… I need to thank him.”

Seraphina takes her time responding to me. “Yes,” she says when I think my anxiety levels are going to shoot through the roof. “Under supervision,” she adds.

“Oh, my God, thank you, High Priestess!” I’m gushing, but I can’t help myself.

The High Priestess raises her hand, silencing the mutters that have broken out. “And there will be strict conditions.”

My heart leaps, but I force myself to remain composed. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

“You will be accompanied at all times. No physical contact. The wards will remain in place.” Seraphina’s azure eyes lock with mine. “And if there is any sign of manipulation or distress, the visit ends immediately.”

Morgan steps forward, his dark eyes glinting. “High Priestess, I must object. The vampire’s influence—”

“Has already been considered,” Seraphina cuts him off smoothly. “Which is why the protective wards will stay active.”

“At least allow me to oversee the meeting,” Morgan insists. Something in his tone sets me on edge. “Given my expertise with shadow magic, I can ensure—”

“I will oversee it.” Lysandra Starfire rises from her seat, moonlight once again seeming to shimmer around her even though it’s mid-afternoon. “My abilities are well-suited to detecting any attempts at deception or compulsion.”

Morgan’s jaw tightens. “Lady Starfire, with all due respect—”

“Is settled,” Seraphina interrupts. “Lysandra will supervise, along with two guards of her choosing. You may attend if it will ease your concerns.” She turns to me. “The visit will be brief, Mia. Use it wisely.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, relief flooding through me.

Morgan moves closer, his voice low. “Remember, witch, one wrong move from him…” He leaves the threat hanging.

I meet his gaze steadily. “He won’t hurt me. He never has.”

I take in a trembling breath, swaying yet again. Gran steadies me with a gentle hand on my elbow.

“When can I see him?” I ask, trying to keep the desperation from my voice.

“In an hour,” Lysandra says. “I need time to prepare the proper safeguards.”

Morgan’s dark eyes follow me as I make my way toward the chamber doors with Gran. There’s something calculating in his gaze that makes my skin crawl. What game is he playing? And why is he so invested in keeping me from Soren?

Another wave of pain hits me through our connection. It’s getting worse. The silver chains must be tight, cutting into him. My steps falter.

“Mia?” Gran’s voice is soft with concern.

“I’m fine.” I force myself to keep walking, though every cell in my body screams to run to wherever they’re holding him. “Just tired.”

But I’m not fine. They’re hurting him – the vampire who defied everything for me. Who fought against his maker’s commands until blood ran from his eyes. Who whispered “run” even as the Bond wracked him.

Please hold on, Soren. Just a little longer. Please be okay.

The connection flutters, weakening, and panic claws at my chest.

What are they doing to him down there?