Page 62 of A Touch of Darkness

I watch the blood trickle out and my pulse quickens. Without thinking, I run back over and press it to Lucian’s lips. A slow, trembling breath escapes me as I feel his lips brush against my skin. And then, I let it flow. My blood—my essence—pours into him, the deep, red tide filling his mouth. I tilt his head back so it glides down his throat. I don’t know what’s happening, but I can feel him pulling at it, drawing it into his own broken body.

I feel it again—the sensation of his pain flooding through me. His suffering deepens, twists inside my chest, and I can't tell if it's his or my own. We are bound together by it, sharing the same agony, the same hunger, the same need. My pulse, my heart, it beats in sync with his, the rhythm of his life becoming mine.

I press harder, urging him to take more. His breath comes in shallow gasps, but I know he's still holding on, still fighting. For me. For us.

“I’m here,” I whisper against his ear, the words soft but fierce, my voice steady. “I’ll save you. I’ll make this right.”

My hands tremble as I look down at Lucian, slipping into my old ways of self-doubt. His blood—my blood—this connection between us. It feels fragile, like if I let go, everything will crumble.

Lara’s voice is more insistent now, more certain.You’ve studied the magic. You know the power of blood. You know what it can do. What it can fix. Trust in that power. You have to stop doubting yourself, Sylvie. You can do this on your own.

Her words ignite something inside of me, something fierce and undeniable. I’ve always had the ability. I am the answer. I reach deep inside myself, pulling the power to the surface, the energy that has always been there, waiting.

This is mine to control. I can save him. I will save him.

I let the power rise within me, flowing from my veins into his. Lucian’s body trembles again, a soft, barely perceptible shudder, but this time, the magic is stronger, more powerful. It’s as if my own thoughts and emotions are funneling right into it. The more I believe in myself, the more it works. I watch in silence as the gashes in his skin start to close, the raw flesh knitting together, the color returning to his cheeks, however faintly.

It’s working.

I almost don’t dare to believe it, but there’s no denying the shift in his body. The glow beneath his skin intensifies just a little, and I feel his pulse, ever so faint but growing stronger. The blood—myblood—is awakening him.

Bringing him back to life.

Lara’s voice hums in my mind again, steady and reassuring.Give him time. His body needs to adjust. The blood is working inside him. But it will take time.

I don’t want to hear it. I want him to wake up now, I want to see his eyes open, to hear his voice, to know that he’s not gone. But I understand. I feel the magic, see it, and I know Lara is right.

I rest back on my haunches, watching him, my hands still hovering near his body as the glow under his skin slowly fades. I don’t let go of the connection. I feel the pulse of magic still resonating in the air, my blood still intertwined with his.

His wounds are healing. The blood I gave him—it’s working. But not yet enough to wake him. He just needs time. But I did it.

As I stand there, watching Lucian’s body continue to heal, my mind spins. Everything feels connected now, like the pieces of a puzzle falling into place. His blood, my blood—this magic, this power—it’s all entwined.

Lara’s words echo in my mind. The things I’ve learned come back to me. The Society wants our blood. They want to control it, use it, bend it to their will.

I’ve read the texts, studied the ancient prophecies and curses, the power that blood holds. It’s the answer. They don’t just want to control the curse, to break it to end the vampires. They want us. They want everything we are, everything we hold. And they won’t stop until they have it.

But they can’t have it—not while I’m here. Not while Lucian is still breathing, still fighting. This blood,myblood, is more than just a tool. It’s the key.

I press my palm to his chest again, this time gently, and the warmth of his skin spreads through me. His pulse is still faint, but it’s there. I won’t leave him. I won’t let him go—not now, not when we’re so close.

The blood is working, but it’s not just his healing—it’s mine too. My power is growing, pulsing stronger with every heartbeat, I feel it intensifying by the second.

And I will control it. I’ll do anything to make sure these people pay for what they’ve done. I will make sure they never take what belongs to me—and they never hurt anyone I care about.

The air in the chamber is thick, filled with the scent of dust and decay—and blood. So much blood. The metallic scent hangs in the air. Beneath that, though, there’s something else—a raw, electric charge humming in the stone walls. I can feel it in my veins, thrumming in time with my own heartbeat, as if the very room is breathing. I noticed it before, but I didn’t think anything about it. And then, when Lucian was thrown in here, he became my main priority. He seems to be resting much more peacefully now, and his heartbeat is definitely stronger than when he was thrown in here.

I feel like I focus on it now...

The walls.

They’re covered with symbols, their intricate carvings glowing faintly in the dim light. The floor beneath me is just as enchanted, marked with runes that pulse with the same otherworldly light. Everything is imbued with magic—ancientmagic—and somehow, I feel as though it’s waiting for me to understand. As if this entire time, it’s just been waiting on me.

I look down at my hands, stained with the same blood that seems to have activated the power in this place. It’s not just the blood, I know that now. It’s something inme, something within my lineage, something that calls to this magic as if it were made only for me. The runes seem to shift beneath my gaze, their lines bending and twisting, almost as if they want to reveal their meaning to me. The symbols are unlike anything I’ve seen before, but they feel familiar somehow. A gut instinct tells me that this is no coincidence, that I’ve been chosen—or perhaps cursed—by the very forces that govern this chamber.

My mind races. Iknowthese symbols. I’ve seen them before, in the old books Lucian kept hidden away, and in some of the ones he gave me to study. Books about curses, witches, vampires... and bloodlines.

I move closer to the wall, reaching out with trembling fingers. I trace one of the symbols, and the moment my skin touches the stone, the runes flare brighter, reacting to my presence. My breath catches in my throat. The rune beneath my fingertips seems to take on a life of its own, the stone shifting beneath my touch. The air around me crackles with fizzing energy, and the symbols start to rearrange themselves, shifting into something even more familiar.

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