Page 60 of Blood Freed

“Yes! Lucien killed him.”

“I have heard reports of his death,” Morgan breaks in. “Apparently, it was a suicide. A reaction to Daire’s betrayal.”

“Suicide? Are you even listening to yourself? It was Lucien, dammit! How many more need to die before you see what’s right in front of you?” I can’t restrain myself anymore.

Gasps and mutters of outrage ripple through the gathering. Morgan’s face darkens with fury. Even Seraphina’s serene expression hardens.

“You forget yourself, young witch,” she says coldly. “This Council has stood for centuries. We do not make hasty decisions based on emotional outbursts.”

“Then you’re fools,” I snap, magic crackling around me. “Your precious traditions and procedures are exactly what Lucien is counting on. He knows you’ll waste time debating while he acts. And when you finally decide to do something, it’ll be too late.”

“That is enough!” Seraphina’s voice cracks like thunder. “You may have suffered greatly, Mia Blackwood, but that does not give you the right to disrespect this Council.”

The air grows thick with disapproval. I can feel the weight of dozens of disappointed stares. Even my allies – Sabine and Jemma – have shrunk back, looking terrified. All except Dad.

He steps forward, his silver-gray hair gleaming in the dappled light. My heart clenches – I’ve never seen him look so…afraid.

“High Priestess, my deepest apologies for my daughter’s outburst.” His voice carries that quiet dignity I’ve always admired. “But there’s something vital you need to understand. This isn’t just about politics or justice anymore.” He draws a shaky breath. “Mia and Soren share a blood match bond. If hedies …” His voice breaks. “I’ll lose my daughter too. I can’t… Iwon’twatch my child die.”

The clearing falls silent. Even the wind seems to hold its breath. I see the shock ripple through the gathered witches – Morgan’s eyes widening, several elders exchanging worried glances. Seraphina’s composed expression finally cracks.

“A blood match?” She looks at me with new understanding. “Why wasn’t this brought to our attention immediately?”

“Because we were too focused on the bigger picture,” Gran interjects softly. “The abductions, Lucien’s schemes. But this bond…it changes everything.”

“Indeed it does.” Seraphina straightens, her authority settling around her like a cloak. “We will take this matter up with the Blood Assembly immediately. A blood match cannot be ignored.”

Relief floods through me, but it’s tempered by the fact that I still can’t feel Soren. Time is flying by. Even if they move quickly, will it be enough? The Blood Assembly is as mired in procedure as the Conclave. And Lucien has his hooks deep in both.

I want to believe we have a chance now, but Soren’s absence tells me that something’s gone wrong, and we’re running out of time.

I don’t think we’re going to make it.

21

Chapter 21

Soren

Yet again, I’m aprisoner in yet another magical prison. The silver-infused bars burn against my skin, the ancient runes carved into the metal pulsing with magic designed to contain our kind.

My kind. Those afflicted with the Bloodbane.

The truth of it settles like lead in my chest – Lucien had a hand in designing these cells, and he’s prepared them for those who are cursed. Touching the bars hits me with a thirst so powerful that my knees buckle.

How the fuck did he get away with it?

I press my palm against the cold stone wall, searching for any crack in the magical barriers. Nothing. The silence in my mind where Mia’s presence should be feels like an open wound. I’ve grown too accustomed to her warmth, her fierceness bleedingthrough our bond. Now, there’s only emptiness. It’s ironic. For days, I locked her out. Then, when I finally saw reason and invited her in, she was snatched away from me.

At least she’s out there, safe with her family. They know about the threat Lucien poses. They’re powerful. They stand a good chance. Which is more than could be said for me; one man going up against a megalomaniac with centuries of corruption on his side.

You’re a fool, Soren Daire.

Maxwell’s face flashes in my thoughts – not as I last saw him, beaten down by Lucien’s manipulations, but as he was centuries ago. The night he turned me, his eyes bright with hope for our bloodline’s future. He’d seen something in me worth preserving, worth the risk of passing on our curse. All those years of watching his children succumb to the Bloodbane, and still, he tried to protect us.

The hunger claws at my insides, different now since tasting Mia’s blood. Before, it was a mindless, vague thing that I’d been able to overlook as a side-effect of my age; I’d told myself I’d grown bored of feeding. Now, it’s focused, almost crystal clear. Her blood sings in my veins, calling to something deeper than mere survival.

The wards pulse stronger as dawn approaches. Soon, they’ll open the eastern wall to greet the sunrise. The Sun Trail – a noble death for a traitor. At least, that’s what the Assembly believes.

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