Blood Freed (Vampire-Cursed #4)

22. Chapter 22

22

Chapter 22

Mia

P apers fly about, and the curtains flutter in the face of my restless energy. The lights overhead are pulsing erratically. A vase crashes to the floor as my magic lashes out, but I can’t bring myself to care about the mess.

“Mia, darling, you need to calm down.” Gran reaches for my hand, but I pull away.

“Calm down? We’re out of time, and they’re still debating procedure.” My voice cracks. The chandelier above us starts swaying, and the crystals in the room flash warning signals of red and amber.

Poppy scampers across the coffee table, her tail twitching. “At this rate, they’ll still be discussing proper protocols while your vampire boyfriend gets crispy.”

“Not helping, Poppy,” Rowan snaps.

I pace the length of the parlor, each step sending ripples of power through the floorboards. The family photographs on the walls rattle in their frames. “We have proof now. Sabine and Jemma’s testimony, Darick’s evidence about Lucien’s activities. Why isn’t that enough?”

“Politics,” Dad mutters from his armchair. “The Conclave won’t move without the Blood Assembly’s cooperation.”

Something else is bothering me. For the past hours, I haven’t felt Soren. And it’s not the same wall I’d felt before when he was locking me out. This is something stronger. Unyielding.

The crystals pulse faster, matching my heartbeat.

“I can’t wait for them to make up their minds.” I turn to Gran, who’s been watching me with knowing eyes. “There has to be another way.”

A particularly violent surge of magic knocks several books off their shelves. Gran catches them mid-air with a casual wave of her hand. “Careful, Mimi. Uncontrolled magic won’t help anyone, least of all Soren.”

I pull in a breath, forcing myself to calm down. This isn’t doing anyone any good.

“Sweetheart, please sit down.” Mom’s voice trembles as she reaches for me. “You’re going to make yourself ill.”

I dodge her touch, continuing my restless circuit of the room. The void in my mind where Soren should be aches like a missing limb. I keep reaching for him through our bond, but there’s nothing – just cold, hard emptiness.

Is he doing it again? Blocking me out? Why?

But no, this feels different.

“The Conclave gave their word they’d help,” Kara says, but her tone lacks conviction.

“Their word?” I spin to face her. “This is bullshit, Kara! He’s going to die! And Lucien—” My voice catches. Another crystal shatters somewhere in the room.

“That’s exactly what concerns me,” Gran says, her eyes sharp. “Lucien’s influence runs deeper than we realized. If he can manipulate both the Blood Assembly and members of our own Conclave…”

“Then we’re all in danger,” Dad finishes grimly. “Not just Soren.”

I press my fingers to my temples, trying to focus through the pounding headache. The empty space in my mind throbs. “I can’t even feel him anymore. Something’s blocking me – and it’s too strong.”

The room falls silent as Mom wrings her hands, a gesture I remember from childhood whenever she was especially worried. “Mia, honey, if…if he dies…”

For fuck’s sake! Why does she keep harping on about that?

“I know what happens, dammit!” My voice is sharp. Too sharp. I feel shitty immediately. “Sorry, Mom.” I exhale slowly. It doesn’t help. This whole mess feels like it’s spiraling out of control. There are too many issues involved. Too much at stake. All I want is for someone to see sense.

The front door bursts open, and everyone spins to face it. Marcus Nightshade strides in, still wearing his formal Assembly attire. My heart plummets at his grim expression.

“They found him guilty.” Marcus’s voice is tight with anger. “It was a farce. Lucien destroyed Maxwell’s letter right there in front of everyone, claimed it was a forgery.” He meets my eye. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I did everything I could. They wouldn’t listen.”

My knees buckle. Mom catches me before I hit the floor, helping me to the nearest chair. “When?” It’s all I can manage to get out.

“The Sun Trail is scheduled for dawn.” Marcus runs a hand through his cropped dark hair, his eyes blazing with frustration. “They’re holding him in the Chamber of Binding. The wards there are specifically designed to contain powerful vampires.”

Shit. That’s why I can’t reach him.

The room spins around me.

Dawn. That’s…that’s…

I glance at the wall clock, realizing we’ve been working on this thing right through the night.

“Dawn,” I whisper. “It’s almost dawn.”

And Soren’s trapped somewhere I can’t even sense him.

“The Chamber of Binding?” Kara steps forward, her face pale. “That’s the most secure facility the vampires have, isn’t it? No one’s ever escaped from there.”

Marcus nods grimly. “The wards are infused with silver and ancient magic.”

I grip the arms of the chair, my fingers leaving scorch marks in the fabric. “How long has he been there?”

“Since the Assembly meeting. Lucien insisted on maximum security until the execution.” Marcus’s jaw clenches. “He’s taking no chances.”

Yet again, the crystals in the room pulse with my rising panic.

Dawn. The Chamber of Binding. No escape.

The words echo in my head like a death knell.

The news settles over the room like a heavy shroud. I watch my family’s reactions through vision blurred by unshed tears.

Gran sits perfectly motionless in her armchair, her fingers steepled under her chin. I recognize that look – she’s running through possibilities, weighing options, considering angles. Her emerald eyes, so like mine, have that distant gleam that means her formidable mind is working overtime.

“We could try a barrier-breaking spell,” Kara says, already pulling her spellbook from her bag. “Or maybe something to counteract the silver. If we combine our power…” She flips through pages frantically, muttering incantations under her breath.

Mom sinks onto the couch, her face ashen. “The blood bond,” she whispers, reaching for my hand. “If he dies at dawn…” She can’t finish the sentence, but I see the moment it truly hits her – this is my death sentence.

Dad paces by the window, his internal struggle written across his features. I watch him war with himself – his instinct to protect me, fighting against his belief in our system. Finally, he turns to face me, his jaw set.

“We’ll find a way,” he says firmly. “No one’s losing you to this.”

Across the room, Rowan and Darick share a loaded glance. They’ve faced this before – Rowan nearly lost Darick to Lucien’s schemes. She reaches for his hand, and I see the echo of old fear in her eyes. Darick’s expression hardens with recognition of what we’re up against.

“What are we going to do?” Mom whispers. She’s clutching my hand so hard that I can barely feel my fingers.

I push to my feet, shaking off Mom’s grip. “We’re done waiting for permission. We have to act now.”

“The repercussions—” Dad starts.

“Won’t matter if I’m dead,” I snap, then feel a pang of regret. “Sorry, Dad. It’s just—”

He waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it, Mia. You’re right. We’ve exhausted every official avenue. We have to take matters into our own hands.”

“Easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission, huh?” Poppy has been watching us from the top of a bookshelf. Everyone ignores her.

Marcus steps forward, his expression serious. “The Chamber’s defenses are unlike anything I’ve seen before. Multiple layers of wards – some vampire, some witch. The silver infusion is just the surface. There are even binding spells woven through the stones.”

“That sounds like witch magic.” Kara’s head snaps up. “Vampire wards don’t work that way – they can’t hold that much magical power without—” She breaks off, her face paling. “Unless they had help. A lot of help.”

“Morgan?” I ask, but Marcus shakes his head.

“More than just him. These are ancient spells, layered over centuries. And they’re still active, still being maintained.” His violet eyes meet mine. “This goes deeper than we thought.”

“A network,” Gran says softly. “Of witch traitors, working with vampires for God knows how long. Maintaining those wards would take considerable power – and considerable organization.”

“But why?” Rowan asks. “Why would witches help imprison their own kind?”

“Power,” Kara answers, her voice hard. “The same reason Heath turned on us. Lucien must have been recruiting for years, maybe decades.”

“And now he controls both sides,” Marcus adds.

Fuck.

How many of our own people are working against us? How deep does this corruption really go?

“It doesn’t matter,” I say firmly. “We’re getting him out – with or without official support.”

While the others debate plans, a strange sensation ripples through me. My blood feels different – charged, almost electric under my skin. The crystals in the room pulse in sync with my heartbeat, but now their light seems sharper, more focused.

“I think we should combine our power,” Kara says. “A concentrated blast might—”

“The wards are too strong,” Marcus cuts in. “Even combined witch power won’t break through centuries of layered magic.”

Their voices fade as I focus on this new awareness coursing through my veins. Ever since that dream with Soren, since I used blood magic to reach him, something has shifted. The power I felt then lingers, whispering dark possibilities.

“What about the service tunnels?” Darick asks. “There must be maintenance access—”

I flex my fingers, watching tiny crimson sparks dance between them. I remember how it felt when Soren drank from me in the dream, that intoxicating rush of combined power. Witch blood and vampire strength merging into something entirely new.

“Mia?” Gran’s sharp voice cuts through my thoughts. “Are you alright?”

I meet her knowing gaze. She sees it – the change in me. I’m not the same witch they rescued. That Mia was broken, weakened by captivity. This version of me…this is something else. Something stronger.

Something darker.

The magic pulses under my skin like a living thing, hungry and eager. Gran’s warnings about blood magic echo in my head – how it corrupts, how it changes you. How it takes more than it gives.

I should care. The old Mia would have been horrified at even considering dark magic.

But all I can think about is saving him. Doing anything to get to him.

There’s another strange flicker of thought that doesn’t belong to me, and I grasp at it.

It’s him! It has to be him.

But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving me even more frantic

The power feels different now – raw and wild, nothing like the structured magic I grew up with. Each heartbeat sends waves of dark energy through me, and the room’s shadows seem to deepen in response.

This new magic terrifies me. But it also feels right, like something awakening that was always meant to be there. When I reach for it, the power surges forward eagerly, making my blood sing with possibilities. I could tear down walls, shatter wards, break through any barrier between Soren and me.

Nothing can stop me, dammit. Nothing.

The rational part of my mind whispers that this is exactly what Gran warned about – the seductive pull of dark magic, how it makes you feel invincible. But with dawn approaching and Soren’s life hanging in the balance, those warnings seem distant and unimportant.

I press my palm against my chest, feeling the throb of power there.

Do something. Do something. Do something!

The family continues planning around me, their voices turning into background noise as I explore this new awareness. My blood feels charged, almost electric, and I know, without trying, that I could reach for power that would make even Gran step back in fear.

The conversation is a distant hum as my mind works frantically. I can feel Gran’s eyes on me, heavy with understanding and fear.

Dawn is coming. We’re out of options.

I close my eyes, reaching for that forbidden place inside me where blood magic lurks. The power rushes up, hungry and wild.

“Mia.” Gran’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Don’t.”

I open my eyes to meet her worried gaze.

I have to.

The magic pulses stronger, responding to my decision. It doesn’t feel wrong anymore – it feels inevitable. Like something awakening that was always meant to be there, just waiting for the right moment.

There’s no other way.

I don’t care about the cost anymore. Some prices are worth paying.

I reach for the darkness, and it reaches back.