Page 94 of Red Queen

The ancient talisman lets out a bone-chilling scream, its dark energy swirling and crackling until it suddenly collapses in on itself. The oppressive presence that emanated from it vanishes, leaving only a faint trail of smoke in the air.

“It is done,” I breathe out, and I grin as the remnants of The Darkened Pulse scatter into nothingness.

“Stay strong, my beloved.” Alexandru’s voice cuts through the aftermath like a lifeline.

I draw a ragged breath, the sound of his words reverberating in my chest. Around me, the world tilts precariously, and I clutch at the stone pedestal to steady myself, my fingers leaving smudges on the cold surface. His voice is an anchor, steadying the tumultuous sea inside me. But my vision dims, edges fraying into darkness as if night itself seeks to claim me.

With each heartbeat, my strength wanes, ebbing away like the ocean. Yet some stubborn spark within me refuses to be extinguished. I will not falter now, not when victory is so near. My body sways, nearly betraying me, but I remain upright—a show of will over flesh.

“Alexandru,” I murmur.

Gritting my teeth, I plant my hands on the edge of the pedestal and push off with every ounce of strength that remains. My body, battered and drained, protests with a litany of aches as I stagger into the corridor beyond.

The battle still rages. The otherworldly whisper of blades scraping against each other all but drowns out the cries of the wounded and the dying. I brace myself against the stone wall, sucking in ragged breaths that burn in my lungs.

But then, I feel it…an insistent thrumming that begins in the marrow of my bones and quickly builds into a surging torrent. My father’s ancient vampire blood courses through me, potent and unyielding, flooding my veins with newfound vigor. The lacerations on my hands rapidly knit back together, the flayed skin smoothing over into a seamless expanse once more.

My muscles, only moments ago leaden and feeble, now swell with preternatural might, trembling with the ferocity of the power they’ve been imbued with. A feral snarl rips from my throat as I straighten, squaring my shoulders and clenching my fists until my knuckles blanch. The haze of fatigue burns away, replaced by the blistering clarity of a vampire’s focus.

With a roar that drowns out the din of battle, I surge into the passage, unstoppable, unbreakable, reborn in the fires of my inheritance.

I take my place beside Alexandru, whose sword gleams in the moonlight, an unearthly steel partner in his hands.

“Nice to have you back, my Queen.” He grunts, parrying a vicious strike from a burly vampire.

The command ignites something within me, a fierce joy that burns away the last traces of weariness. My blade feels right in my grip, ready to enforce my will. We stand back-to-back, a fortress against the onslaught. With every swing, every block, I lose myself in the rhythm of combat.

My senses sharpen until I can feel Alexandru’s movements against my back, synchronized in an uncanny ballet. The metallic odor of blood pervades the air, coppery and as it splashes across the stones, dark and glistening like ink. The cries of pain and rage are a din that drives me, a symphony to which set our fight.

We move in a flash of blades and fury, cutting down any who dare approach.

“Moros, Erebos, and Nyx, heed my call!” I shout, my voice ringing through the corridor.

Moros swoops down from above. His claws are a flash of fierceness—tearing into an attacker’s face, flesh yielding to relentless force.

Nyx and Erebos answer my call next, their black feathered forms diving through the bedlam, their midnight wings a blur. They strike, a pair of dark bolts shot from the night, sowing disarray among the horde that swells before us. Their calls sound like laughter, a mocking note amid the chaos.

A vampire lunges at me, eyes brimming with bloodlust, but I’m quicker. My blade sings its deadly arc, finding the space between his ribs. It’s not just training; it’s the roar of the hunter woven into my very being. I pull my sword free, and he falls, another shadow motionless on the flagstones.

The grit of battle clings to my skin, each breath a maelstrom of ash and frost. The cold no longer touches me—not when the heat of combat burns in my veins, the power of command thrumming in my core.

“Another!” Alexandru roars, his sword cleaving through the air.

With a swift, visceral motion, innards spill onto the ground, steaming in the wintry air. He kicks the body aside, a discarded husk. Alexandru’s heckling echoes like a call to those who dare persist in this futile assault.

They come at us—a flurry of fangs and steel. We meet them with a tempest of our own making. Each strike I deliver is a promise, a pledge to protect what’s ours, to cleanse these halls of their presence. Blood spatters across my face, warm and strangely alive. I don’t flinch away from the gore; it’s part of this world we inhabit, this night of reckoning.

I hear Alexandru’s labored breathing, the strain of battle etched in every exhale. But there’s strength there too—the indomitable will that’s seen centuries pass. He fights not just for conquest but for a future free from tyranny.

I fight for love—for the lives intertwined with mine, for the heart that beats in time with my own. I fight for those who can’t defend themselves, for the hope that tomorrow might be brighter than today. It’s this compassion, this fierce desire to shield and nurture, that lends power to my arm, that sharpens my senses and guides my blade.

“Having fun, Eleanna?” Alexandru says between strikes at the center of the feud that rages around us.

“Just another night of anarchy, my love,” I reply, my conviction as unwavering as the mountains that cradle our lands.

“Anarchy? Nay, this is but a prelude to our reign, my Queen.”

His words ignite a feral hunger within me, a desire to conquer, to claim what is rightfully ours. I lunge forward, my blade finding flesh, parting sinew from bone. The scent of copper is a heady perfume that sings to the darkness coiled in my soul.

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