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The problem was that the rebels weren’t going about things the right way. Violence wasn’t the answer; it would only lead to more violence. There would be no peace if they kept murdering people.

Grave Blackwing was already being painted as a martyr for the Representative’s cause. There had to be some way to restore proper balance—true equality—to the Republic of Balance without resorting to pure force.

But this wasn’t the moment for philosophical thoughts and ideals. They had a job to do and an ancient castle to clear. Thoughts about the rebels and the Representatives and the mess that the Republic of Balance had become would have to wait.

Commander Root strode to the front of their group, a green ribbon of Earth Elf magic winding around his arm like a vine. A precaution. A show of power. A reminder of his lineage, which ran all the way back to the High Lady of Life herself.

“Everyone ready?” the commander asked.

A chorus of agreement rose, and Nikhail nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Excellent.” Root gestured to the castle behind them. “Our instructions are clear. We’re combing the ruins, searching for signs of life. You find anything, big or small, you call it in immediately. Understood?”

The commander waited until everyone had verbally agreed before continuing.

“Good. Galebringer, you and Clearbrook will go with Kilarn. Start in the eastern corner and go from there.” He tapped a few buttons on his phone, and Nikhail’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

“I’ve sent all of you a set of blueprints.

Follow them, and we’ll meet in the middle. ”

“Yes, sir.” A Death Elf with dark brown skin stepped out from the group that had arrived in Isobel’s SUV.

Black curling horns like a ram rose above his head, and his wavy, inky hair reached his ears.

Crimson whorls and swirls formed a collar around his neck, a marker of his power.

The man, presumably Kilarn, was taller than Nikhail, and a bit bulkier, too.

“Ready?” Kilarn asked, a hand on the gun at his side.

Nikhail nodded, checking all his weapons and his magic one more time. “Let’s get this over with.”

The sooner they cleared the ruins, the sooner he could get back to River.

If the exterior of Castle Sanguis spoke of death and destruction, the interior of the long-abandoned structure held the ghosts of times past.

Kilarn, who had told them his first name was Jayson on their trek inside, led their band of three. The Death Elf’s back was ramrod straight, his shoulders tense as they traversed the ancient fortress’s empty corridors.

Every door they passed was open, every room void of life.

It was unnatural in every single way.

Castle Sanguis was referred to as a ruin, but that wasn’t really the case. Powerful witches had imbued the fortress with ancient magic that prevented its decay. The hands of time hadn’t touched the stone exterior, even though the vampires had long since vacated the premises.

It felt strange, walking through these walls that once hosted life. Now, the emptiness felt foreboding.

Shivers swept down Nikhail’s spine, and he called magic to his palm. Even the winds weren’t whispering to him, as if they, too, were affected by the eeriness of his surroundings.

He followed Jayson down empty halls and through vacant rooms. They checked every corner, every piece of furniture, and every closet.

“What happened to the vampires who used to live here?” Isobel asked in a hushed whisper while they cleared yet another empty bedroom.

Once-white sheets covered in thick layers of dust were draped over furniture, sporting numerous holes where critters had chewed straight through them.

“Asleep,” Nikhail replied, his tone equally quiet.

Even though the castle was empty, and they were clearly the only living beings who’d been in these rooms for years, it didn’t feel right to speak in a normal voice. As if it would be disturbing the peace.

Nikhail’s youngest sister, Laney, had been obsessed with the vampire royals during her pre-teen years.

She’d collected every history book written about the King of Darkness and his queen, read every recovered piece of correspondence between them, and even watched documentaries about the historical figures.

As a result, Nikhail knew far more about the vampire couple than he would’ve otherwise.

The Last Vampire King and his wife had ushered Eleyta into a period of peace and prosperity that had been long overdue. Their reign had gone on for far longer than any other vampire monarch in history .

When the Four Kingdoms had merged into the Republic of Balance after the Great Migration, the royal vampires and many of their brethren decided to enter a magical sleep.

They were not dead, not in the truest sense of the word, but after living for thousands upon thousands of years, they were tired. Ready for a break.

According to Laney’s texts, no one knew where the vampire royals and their court were sleeping. They, along with any Bound Partners they had taken along the way, were resting. Blessed by the gods, they were alive, but they didn’t require food or drink or blood. They just were .

Isobel shivered, and she looked like she was about to say something else, when Jayson held up a hand. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide. He pointed to his ears, then out the door, and mouthed, “Did you hear that?”

Extending his senses, Nikhail released a flicker of magic from his palm. As an air fae, communicating with the wind was his birthright, and he could often hear things others couldn’t.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Castle Sanguis was so large that the other soldiers’ movements weren’t audible, even for his fae hearing.

He was about to shake his head when the wind carried a strange sound to his ears.

Scratch. Scratch .

It was rhythmic and getting louder.

Scratch, scratch, scratch .

Nikhail met Jayson’s eyes and dipped his chin, confirming that he’d heard the same sound.

Blood drained from Isobel’s face, and her hand went to the gun at her hip. As a human, she was magicless, but she was still a trained soldier. Before they’d entered the castle, Jayson had confirmed with Isobel that she knew how to fight.

Nikhail didn’t blame her for being worried. Empty castles shouldn’t make noises. The Death Elf’s mouth pinched in a firm line, his jaw clenching. He held two fingers up in the air—a signal for them to follow.

Once again, the trio crept through the halls of the dark stronghold. There were no more whispers, no more stories shared about the vampires who used to call this place their home.

Scratch.

A pause.

Scratch, scratch, scratch .

Shivers swept down Nikhail’s spine, and his magic thrummed a warning in his veins.

You are not alone , the wind murmured, its ancient voice deep in this place of old.

Nikhail shifted his magic to his left hand, holding a sphere of air as deadly as it was compact, and withdrew his gun with his right.

Scratch, scratch .

The sound was coming from the room on their left.

Flattening his back on the wall, Jayson jerked his head towards the open door. He raised his hand, counting down on his fingers.

Three.

Two.

One.

On the Death Elf’s count, the three soldiers pushed off the wall. Guns drawn, magic at hand, they swarmed the chamber, ready to attack.

Only, instead of a rebel ambush, they found…

“Fuck me.” Chuckling darkly, Nikhail shoved his gun back into its holster before running a relieved hand down his face. He sagged against the wall.

“A damned grey squirrel,” Jayson muttered, shaking his head. “Kydona, help me, I really thought someone was here.”

The critter was the size of Nikhail’s hand.

Standing on its hind legs, it was frozen, looking at them with wide eyes.

It seemed as surprised to see them as they were to see it.

A quick perusal of the space confirmed that the squirrel had made a home of what might’ve once been a couch, transforming it into a nest.

After a moment, the squirrel seemed to unfreeze. It chittered, still staring at them.

“I think it wants us to leave,” Isobel said, taking a step back.

The squirrel glared angrily, making loud, furious sounds. It advanced, waving its front paws in the air.

Nikhail wasn’t in the habit of taking orders from rodents, but he’d make an exception for this one. The sooner they got out of this place filled with death, the better.

He met Jayson’s eye, and the other soldier nodded. “Let’s keep going. This castle gives me the creeps.”

“Same.” Isobel shuddered as if a spider had just crawled down her back.

Nikhail agreed with them both. The longer they remained in here, the more something just felt… off.

They continued through the east wing, clearing chamber after chamber. Finished with the first floor, they climbed a set of ancient stone stairs. The ruin’s oppressive air felt like it was getting heavier with every passing hour.

Goose bumps took up permanent residence on Nikhail’s flesh.

The ballroom, which had once probably been a lavish event space, now housed an entire colony of squirrels. They were as loud and angry as their grey friend. Nikhail gave the critters a wide berth as they cleared the room.

More empty chambers. More hallways. More unease.

Even though the afternoon sun was shining brightly, the castle seemed to be getting darker.

“The library is our last room to check.” Jayson consulted the blueprints on his phone before looking up at the enormous double doors in front of them. These, unlike the others they’d encountered in the castle, were shut. “Let’s get this over with.”

He shoved the doors open, a flurry of dust raining upon them. Nikhail coughed, covering his mouth as he took in the space. The library, if that’s what it could still be called, was worse off than the rest of the castle. There were no squirrels here, no cloths covering the furniture.

There was nothing at all.

“Where are all the books?” Isobel asked quietly, running her hand down an empty shelf. It came away coated in white.

“The Sunwalking Queen insisted they be taken to abbeys and universities for safekeeping before they went to sleep.” Nikhail strode to a table caked in over an inch of dust. “Apparently, she couldn’t stand the thought of her books decaying and the knowledge they contained being lost to time.”

Considering the castle’s current state, the queen’s decision had been a wise one. This was not a place for anything of value, least of all literature.

The air seemed to get cooler, and Nikhail shuddered. Gods, he wanted to get out of here.

It seemed like the others were of the same frame of mind. They moved through the library on silent feet, exchanging very few words as they navigated through the stacks.

Nikhail’s magic strummed in his veins, a constant presence that was growing louder. More than any other part of the castle, there was something unsettling about this space. He wasn’t sure what it was, because based on the layers of dust, no one had been here for many years.

Or at least, that’s what he thought, until they reached the other end of the library. They came to a stop at the back wall, where instead of a smooth expanse, a door was cut into the stone.

And it was open.