I didn’t want to let them win.
Come for me, Lucas.
I sent the words out into the silence, hoping that somehow, he’d hear them, that somehow, he’d feel them.
I had to believe he would.
Because if I let myself believe anything else, I’d break.
Chapter Eight
Lucas
I stood before the cell, the iron bars colder than they should’ve been, my fingers grazing the surface. A part of me—no matter how much I tried to suppress it, still felt the pull of family, the twisted bond that tied me to the monster behind those bars.
I had to speak to him. There was no other choice.
I couldn’t do this alone. I needed information about the clans, about the alliances forming between the shifters and the rogue vampires, and eventually about Aurelius—because I knew, deep down, that everything led back to him.
The door creaked open, and I stepped inside. The stale air in the underground cell was thick with the scent of earth and iron.
Damien was seated on the stone floor, leaning against the wall with his hands shackled in front of him. The runes that covered the cell glowed faintly, just enough to keep his power in check, but they wouldn’t hold him forever. I knew that well.
He looked up at me, his lips curling into a smirk that made my blood run cold.
“Well, well. The prodigal nephew returns yet again,” he mocked, his voice as smooth as silk, but dripping with venom. “Come to beg for help, Lucas?”
I clenched my fists at my sides. “I’m not begging.”
“You look like you’re begging,” he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he leaned forward, his shackles clinking. “What do you want, then? A word of advice from your dear old uncle? A bit of wisdom from a man who’s seen it all?”
I ignored the bitterness in his tone, pushing past the anger that burned in my gut. I needed to focus. I had a goal.
“I need to know about the other vampire clans,” I said, my voice low, controlled. “I need to know which ones might be working with the shifters and which ones might help us stop Aurelius.”
Damien raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “You think I’d be interested in helping you stop anything? That’s laughable, Lucas.”
I stepped closer to the bars, my gaze never leaving his. “You know more than anyone about the power struggles between the clans. I’m not asking you to be a hero, Damien. I just need information. Names. Locations. Anything that might give us an edge.”
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down my spine. “And why would I give you that? After all, what’s in it for me? You can’t possibly think I’d help you just because you ask nicely.”
I ground my teeth together, frustration clawing at my insides. “This isn’t about you or me. It’s about stopping Aurelius from rising again. We’re both at risk.”
His smile only widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Oh, I’m not at risk. Not anymore. I’m already dead to the world, Lucas. A ghost, if you will. And if Aurelius rises, well... isn’t that just the natural order of things?”
I felt my control slipping. “You’re a coward, Damien. All you care about is power. You’d rather see everything burn than lift a finger to stop it.”
He chuckled again, louder this time, his eyes dark with malice. “It’s you who’s weak, Lucas. So eager to save everyone, to play the hero. You’re too soft. You don’t have what it takes to do what’s necessary, to kill the threats before they become problems.”
I felt my fists clench even tighter, the urge to snap his neck flooding my thoughts, but I resisted. It wouldn’t help. Not now.
“I’m not like you,” I said, my voice cold. “I won’t kill just to make myself feel powerful. And I won’t stoop to your level.”
Damien’s gaze turned sharp. “And that’s your weakness, Lucas. You’re too much like your father. Always thinking with your heart. You want to save people, but you’ll never be strong enough to protect them. Not if you keep thinking like that.”
His words hit harder than I wanted to admit. But I wouldn’t let him see it.
“I don’t need your help,” I said, finally backing away from the bars, my chest tight with unspent rage. “I’ll find another way. I’ll stop Aurelius without you.”