Page 46 of Blood Freed

“Yes.” My voice is hoarse. There’s no way I can tell her about my involvement. Shame consumes me.

The paper crumples slightly in my grip as I continue reading Maxwell’s confession.

…Lucien knew my weakness. Used it to control me. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more – he wants everything, Soren.

When you defied me to save the Blackwood woman, I felt such pride. Such hope. You proved stronger than the Maker’s Bond. Something I never managed myself. You’ve always been stronger in every way, son. You resisted the urge to make more of your kind the way that I couldn’t. Yet now, I’m resting my burden on your shoulders because I couldn’t find a way to change things. It is a regret I will take to the grave with me.

My throat tightens. All those times I’d seen the pain in Maxwell’s eyes, the conflict when he gave me orders about Mia. He’d been fighting it, too, in his own way.

“There’s more,” Emma whispers, pointing to the final paragraph. Her hand shakes as she wipes blood tears from her cheeks.

Lucien will try to silence me; I know this much. There is always a price to be paid when you make a deal with the Devil. He’ll come for you next. The Blackwood witch is the key – not just to saving our line but to breaking his power. You must fight this, Soren. Fight him with everything you have. For all of us.

I only hope it isn’t too late.

The letter ends with his typical flourish, the scrawled initials almost at odds with the content of the letter.

My maker’s final words.

I fold the letter carefully, tucking it into my jacket. The weight of it feels like a death sentence against my chest. Emma watches me with desperate eyes, waiting for direction, for hope.

I don’t know if I have any for her, and now I feel the burden that Maxwell must have been carrying.

I’m so sorry.

If I’d known… I heave a sigh, rubbing my eyes. Would it have changed anything if I’d known? Would I have made the same choices my father had made for his children?

“We need to leave,” I tell Emma. “It’s not safe here.”

She nods, but her legs buckle. I catch her before she falls, feeling how frail she’s become. Without Maxwell’s protection, without access to witch blood…

I push the thought aside. One crisis at a time.

“Will you be okay?” I ask, helping her steady herself.

“I’ll manage.” She smiles. It’s sad.

“I won’t abandon you, Emma. I’ll find a way.” I put a hand on her arm, praying that I can keep this promise.

She doesn’t answer. Just keeps smiling that sad little smile as she steps back into the shadows and disappears.

I stand there, staring at Maxwell’s study door for what feels like forever as I process all that I’ve just learned.

I have the Bloodbane.

The thought of it should shatter me, but somehow, it doesn’t.

In fact, aside from the pain of loss that’s flooding me, I feel better than I have in decades.

It’s Mia. Drinking from her has changed something in me. The rush of power, the sense of rightness. Not just desire or hunger but something deeper. Something that felt like coming home.

I step away from Maxwell’s study, my mind racing with new clarity. All this time, I’ve been fighting against the connection with Mia, believing distance would keep her safe. But Lucien’sbrutal message lies behind that door – there is no safety in separation.

Her blood runs through my veins, a constant reminder of her. Even now, I can feel her presence at the edges of my consciousness, worried yet resolute. The wall I built between us seems pointless now. Maxwell’s death proves Lucien will eliminate anyone he considers a threat, whether they stand with me or not.

My maker tried to protect his children by yielding to Lucien’s demands. His death proves the futility of that approach. I won’t make the same mistake.

This strange bond with Mia has changed everything. I feel it in my bones, in the way my body hums with renewed strength despite the grief weighing on me. This connection between us isn’t just about hunger or desire – it’s evolution, adaptation, perhaps even salvation.

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