Page 65 of Blood Freed

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 flipsthrough 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 justthe 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.

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