Page 23 of Vampire Blood

I stared at him, every instinct screaming to push past him and charge into that camp right now.

But I didn’t.

Because I couldn’t risk losing her.

Not yet.

Chapter Seven

Annika

I drifted through sleep and sleeplessness, weightless and untethered, as if the world had unraveled around me. Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction, pressing in like invisible chains. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, yet fear didn’t touch me. Not at first.

A voice broke through the void. It was soft and lilting, carrying an ancient rhythm that stirred something deep inside of me.

“Blood binds. Blood frees.”

The words pulled me forward, though my body didn’t move. The world shifted instead, folding in on itself until shadows peeled away, revealing a clearing bathed in pale moonlight. Jagged stones jutted from the ground like broken teeth, and the earth beneath my feet felt scorched and hollowed out, as though it had witnessed something it could never forget.

At the center of it all stood a woman.

I had never seen her before, yet I knew her. Not from memory, but from blood.

Tall and ethereal, her hair fell in wild waves, tangled with twigs and leaves, and her eyes burned silver in the moonlight. Power radiated from her, sharp and undeniable, and I felt it hum in my own veins as if answering a call I didn’t fully understand.

The witch.

My ancestor.

The woman turned, her silver gaze pinning me in place.

“You are the key,” she said, her voice carrying both strength and sorrow. “The bloodline endures.”

I tried to speak, but my throat felt tight, my voice trapped somewhere insideof me.

The witch moved closer, her bare feet gliding soundlessly over the earth. Her robes drifted around her like smoke, shifting and curling in the still air.

“He stirs,” the witch said, her expression darkening. “The chains weaken.”

I shivered, my pulse quickening. I didn’t need to ask who he was. I already knew.

“Aurelius.”

The witch inclined her head, her face unreadable. “Bound by blood. Mine. And now—yours.

I swallowed hard, the weight of those words pressing down on me. “How do I stop it?”

The witch’s gaze softened, but there was no comfort in it. “You don’t.”

The answer hit like a slap, and my chest tightened. “But—”

“You can only delay it,” the witch said. “Hold the chains. Strengthen them.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. I don’t even know how.”

“You will.” The witch raised her hand, fingers brushing my cheek. The touch burned, cold and sharp, as if her skin carried the chill of death itself.

Desperation clawed at my throat. “Tell me how!”

---