Blood Freed (Vampire-Cursed #4)

28. Chapter 28

28

Chapter 28

Soren

T he evening light paints long shadows across Mia’s sleeping form. I stand at her window, amazed at how the fading sunlight feels against my skin – warm instead of burning, life-giving instead of deadly. After hundreds of years of darkness, this simple pleasure feels surreal.

Mia stirs restlessly in her sleep, drawing my attention. The sheets have slipped down, exposing the curve of her shoulder and the marks my fangs left in the curve of her throat. Even from here, I can see how her skin has grown paler, almost translucent in places. Dark veins occasionally pulse beneath the surface, a visual echo of the magic coursing through her.

“No…” she murmurs, her face contorting. Shadows writhe around her unconsciously, making the curtains flutter in a breeze that isn’t there. “Please…”

I move to the bed, brushing auburn hair from her forehead. Her skin burns hot under my touch. Through her thoughts, I feel echoes of her dreams – blood and power and a hunger that mirrors my own darkest urges.

This is going to be a problem.

I scrub a hand over my face as I consider the implications.

My phone vibrates. Marcus Nightshade. Darick’s second-in-command – now his successor – is proving to be a useful man to have around.

“What news?” I keep my voice low, not wanting to wake her.

“The Assembly’s in chaos.” Marcus sounds exhausted. “The mayhem at the Sun Trail is turning into a clusterfuck.”

“No surprise there.” I straighten the sheet over Mia’s shoulder as she turns fitfully in her sleep. “What’s happening?”

“Victor’s death has split them into factions. Half want revenge for his murder. The other half…” He pauses. “The other half saw you walk in sunlight, Soren. They’re intrigued.”

“And Lucien?”

“Playing both sides masterfully, as usual, the slippery fuck. He’s positioning himself as the voice of reason while stoking their fears about witch power.” A bitter laugh. “Several elders are already calling for retaliation.”

I watch another shadow slither across Mia’s skin and lean down to press my lips against it. It vanishes as I rise. “How many of them have the Bloodbane, Marcus?”

Silence stretches between us. Finally: “More than we thought. Far more. And they’re watching you very carefully now.”

“Because I survived the Sun Trail.”

“Because you might represent hope.” He sighs. “But there’s more. The witch covens are fracturing, too. Some hail Mia as a hero for standing against vampire corruption. Others see her as dangerous, unpredictable.”

And they would be right. Though I’d never say it out loud.

“Morgan’s influence?”

“Partly. But there’s genuine fear about the level of power she displayed.” Paper rustles in the background. “Soren…what exactly happened in that chamber? I wasn’t there but I’ve heard what’s being said. The way she tore through those guards… People are saying she obliterated her victims. As in, literally blew them up.”

I close my eyes, remembering the terrible beauty of Mia’s rage. “Blood magic. She’d been using it to reach me when she got desperate.” I feel a pang of guilt as I say it. If I hadn’t been such a fucking asshole, this might never have happened.

“This sounds like more than that, Soren. I’ve seen that shit before. I know it’s dangerous. But the reports make it sound like fucking Armageddon.”

I pull in a breath. “It was more…yes. The dark magic, combined with our bond, it awakened something in her bloodline. Something old.”

“Fuck.” More rustling. “That explains the Conclave’s reaction. Traditional factions are calling for containment measures. They’re afraid she’ll lose control.”

They should be , I think, watching dark veins pulse beneath Mia’s skin. I trace one, watching as it vanishes beneath my fingertip. I’ve seen what power like this can do, how it consumes from within. Centuries ago, I watched a witch named Catherine surrender to similar darkness. By the end, there was nothing left of the woman she’d been.

“Marcus, if Lucien realizes the full extent of what’s happening to her…”

“He already suspects. Why do you think he’s so interested in the Blackwood bloodline?” A pause. “There’s something else. He’s called an emergency Assembly meeting.”

My hand tightens on the phone. “When?”

“Tomorrow night. Word is he plans to use Mia’s attack as justification for declaring war on the covens.”

My gut lurches. “What? No! He can’t—”

“He can if enough elders support him. And after Victor’s death…” Marcus trails off. “We need to move fast.”

“I agree. Have you discussed this with the other Blackwoods yet?” I ask.

“No. Just Darick. He said I should speak to you. See what your take is.”

“My take is that it’s bullshit. Which is business as usual for fucking Marlowe,” I mutter. “He’s been looking for an excuse to go after the witches for decades. Now he has one.” I rub my eyes. “I just wish I hadn’t been the one who gave it to him.”

Marcus laughs mirthlessly. “He was always going to find one, friend. If not this, there’d be something else. And soon. I sense he’s been getting impatient. And now that his operations have been shut down, he’s going to start fighting dirty.”

“Jesus. How much dirtier could it get?”

“Fucked if I know. And I’d rather not find out.” He snorts.

Mia thrashes suddenly, magic crackling around her. “No!” she cries out. “Stop!”

“Shit. I have to go.” I end the call as darkness explodes outward from her body. The window panes rattle, and shadows whip through the room like living things.

“Mia!” I grab her shoulders, shaking her gently. “Wake up. It’s just a dream.”

Her eyes snap open, solid black for a heartbeat before green bleeds back in. “Soren?” Her voice shakes. “What…what happened?”

“Your magic reacted to a nightmare.” I stroke her hair, trying to hide my concern. “You’re safe.”

She sits up, clutching the sheet to her chest as she takes in the destruction – broken glass, scattered papers, shadows still writhing at the edges of the room. “I did this? In my sleep?”

“The power is still settling.” I choose my words carefully. “It’s natural for it to be volatile after what happened.”

“Natural?” She laughs bitterly. “There’s nothing natural about this, Soren. Look.” She holds out her arm where dark veins pulse beneath pale skin. “It’s changing me. I can feel it.”

I take her hand, pressing my lips to her inner wrist where her pulse beats too fast. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Will we?” Her free hand traces the line of my jaw. “I saw your face when I killed those vampires. You were afraid.”

“Not of you.”

“Liar.” But she smiles slightly. “You should be afraid. I’m not sure I know myself anymore.”

Before I can respond, her phone chimes with a text. She reads it, her face draining of what little color remains.

“Lucien’s called an Assembly meeting,” she says. “He’s using what I did as an excuse to declare war on the covens.”

“I know. Marcus just told me.”

She pulls away, standing to pace the room. Magic crackles around her like static electricity, making the air heavy with power. “We have to stop him.”

“Mia—”

“No, listen.” She turns to face me, and for a moment, I glimpse the darkness swimming in her eyes. “He’s been manipulating both sides, playing vampires against witches. Using people like Heath and Morgan to spy and sabotage. If he starts a war…”

“It will destroy both communities,” I finish. “I know.”

“Then help me end this.” She moves closer, and I feel the magic radiating from her skin. “You can walk in daylight now. You’re stronger than ever. Together, we could—”

“Together, we’ll find a legal way to stop him,” I interrupt firmly. “Not through violence.”

Her laugh is sharp enough to cut. “Since when are you opposed to violence, vampire?”

“Since I watched it start consuming the woman I love.”

She flinches as if I’ve struck her. Through our bond, I feel her hurt, her fear, and underneath it all, the seductive whisper of power urging her toward darker solutions.

“I won’t let him hurt anyone else,” she says softly. “Whatever it costs.”

The words send a chill down my spine. I’ve heard similar vows before, watched them lead good people down paths of destruction. But before I can argue further, both our phones buzz with urgent messages.

“Lucien’s made his first move,” she says, reading the text. “He’s attacked a small coven in response to Victor’s death. Three witches dead.”

My own phone shows a message from Marcus confirming the same. The political game has begun, and we’re all just pieces on Lucien’s board.

I watch Mia’s hands clench into fists, shadows gathering around her unconsciously. The woman I love is still in there, but for how long? How much darkness can one soul contain before it breaks?

The coming war isn’t just about vampires and witches anymore. It’s about saving Mia from herself.

And I’m terrified I won’t be strong enough to do both.