Page 47 of Blood Freed

I straighten my jacket, touching the letter resting against my chest. The Blood Assembly will meet soon to determine my fate. They expect a broken vampire, weakened by his maker’s death and trapped by Lucien’s machinations.

They’re wrong.

I am changed, transformed by witch blood and ancient magic. Pushing Mia away won’t protect her – it will only leave us both vulnerable. Whatever comes next, we face it together.

Time to show the Assembly exactly what that means.

16

Chapter 16

Mia

Iwake with ajolt, my heart racing. Moonlight streams through my bedroom window, but everything feels…different.

Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since I was back at my old apartment. Mom and Dad kept it just as I’d left it before I was taken, yet everything feels different somehow. As if I’m seeing it through new eyes.

My skin tingles in an unsettling way, and Gran’s warnings about dark paths echo in my mind.

Something has changed. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s something big.

Is it the blood magic?

I press my hand to my neck where Soren’s dream-bite still throbs. The mark shouldn’t be real – it was just a dream. Yet here it is, tangible proof of what happened between us. Ourconnection pulses stronger than ever, a constant awareness of him humming through my veins.

Rising from bed, I catch my reflection in the mirror and freeze. My eyes seem brighter, almost luminescent. The pallor I’ve carried since my escape has given way to a subtle flush. Even my movements feel different – more fluid, more certain.

I close my eyes and reach for Soren through our bond. His wall is still there, but it feels…thinner. Like tissue paper instead of steel. Behind it, I sense turmoil and grief, so intense it makes my chest ache. Something’s happened to him, something that’s shattered his carefully maintained control.

“Yes, something has definitely changed,” I murmur to myself as I lean closer to examine the bite marks.

I know it was wrong to resort to dark magic to reach him, but I was desperate. I should feel scared or guilty about crossing that line, but instead, I feel…powerful. Complete. As if a piece of me that was missing has finally clicked into place.

“Dark magic is forbidden for a reason. It corrupts everything it touches,”Gran’s voice rings in my memory. But this doesn’t feel like corruption – it feels like possibility.

Unless this is something else.

The blood bond.

Rowan and Darick had spoken about it. And now, Gran says my bond with Soren has been sealed.

Is that what I’m feeling?

I consider the implications of this. If Soren dies, I die. The thought should terrify me more than it does, but somehow it feels…right. Like we were always meant to be connected this way.

I trace the bite marks on my neck again, remembering the electric surge when his fangs pierced my skin in that dream-that-wasn’t-quite-a-dream. Even now, hours later, my body hums with the memory.

I could have used this knowledge to try to convince him to fight, to escape.If you die, I die too.But I didn’t. Because that’s not why I need him to live.

Closing my eyes, I let myself remember every moment in captivity when he showed me kindness. Small gestures at first – better care, better food, books to read. Then larger risks – stepping in when guards got aggressive, taking over the blood extractions so he could do it more gently. A year of quiet protection, building to the moment he finally helped me escape.

My hand presses against my chest, where I feel the echo of his heartbeat alongside my own. This connection between us – it’s more than just magic or prophecy or fate. It’s something we built together, choice by choice, risk by risk, until it became as natural as breathing.

Yes, if he dies, I die. But that’s not why I’ll fight for him. I’ll fight because, in that year of darkness, he became my light. Because every time our eyes met, every brush of his hand against mine, every moment of protection he offered at his own risk – it all meant something. Means something.

Sealing the bond just makes it official. Makes it permanent. Makes the stakes impossibly high.

“Soren,” I sigh, his name coming out like a breath. It hangs in the air. Air that feels like it’s beginning to crackle.

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