Page 15

It’s the morning after our time at Midnight Delight and just about a week since I began training at the Witch’s Guild—testing the edges of my abilities and pushing myself in ways I didn’t think were possible. At first, it was slow, frustrating. The magic felt foreign, slippery, like trying to hold water in my hands. But now? Now, there’s a flicker of confidence surging through me. I’ve started to feel it, the strength simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be called. It’s not perfect, not yet, but it’s enough to make me believe I can do this. I have to.

It’s now or never because I feel something more coming. If we don’t do this, if we don’t infiltrate and act now, I think there will be an ending I don’t want—Solstice is growing stronger, and I fear for Lucian.

After the faction meeting at Crimson Veil a few nights ago, I met with Ravenna, Nicole, and Rebecca back at the apothecary shop. I told them about the plan that had been laid out before me. They were skeptical, of course. Ravenna’s sharp eyes narrowed the moment I brought up Viago’s name, and I knew what was coming before she even spoke.

“Viago doesn’t care about you,” she said, her voice clipped. “He cares about power. About winning. You’re a piece on his board, Sylvie. That’s it.”

“She’s right,” Nicole added, her tone more sympathetic but no less firm. “Viago’s not going to prioritize your part of this. If it comes down to helping you save Lara or securing his win against Solstice, he’ll choose himself every time.”

And yet, even as they voiced their doubts, I couldn’t bring myself to turn back. This isn’t just about Viago or even about stopping the Solstice Society. It’s about Lara. It’s about making sure her “death” wasn’t in vain—or better yet, making sure it isn’t permanent. I was going to do this anyway. I needed to get to the relic. So why not work with Lucian and the vampires in order to do so? Is there a better option?

“I still want to go through with it,” I told them, my voice steady despite the weight of their disapproval. “Viago may have his own agenda, but this is the best chance we have. If the Mirror of Thorns is as powerful as they say, it’s worth the risk.”

Ravenna didn’t look convinced, but she sighed and nodded. “Then we’ll be there. I’ll speak with the elders and some of my colleagues and tell them of the urgency. I know they wanted you to practice longer, but I will let them know the vamps are going in and it’s now or never. I’m sure, even with haste, they’ll join us to perform the incantation. But Sylvie,” she added, her gaze piercing, “if this goes sideways, you’ll need to make a choice. Are you willing to sacrifice everything for this?”

The question lingers in my mind now as I prepare for what’s ahead. Am I willing to give everything? To lose everything? The truth is, I don’t know. But what I do know is that I can’t live with myself if I don’t try.

I want Solstice gone. For Lucian. For Rebecca and Nicole. For Ravenna.

For all the people I’ve come to care about.

I also need Lara to be herself again. I want that artifact so we can complete the incantation.

Viago has made it clear: this happens now or never. He’s impatient, as always apparently, and while part of me wonders if that urgency is more about him than the plan itself, I can’t afford to delay. The Mirror of Thorns holds too many answers, too much potential. Tonight, it all comes to a head.

Despite me being unable to meet with the three elders again, due to time constraints and their schedules, they have still agreed to help. Thankfully. Ravenna’s also managed to convince several trusted colleagues to come as back up. Their presence should make the ritual possible, assuming we can get the Mirror. That’s the part that gnaws at me. The act of getting it.

Or of failing while trying.

I’ve run the scenarios through my mind a hundred times. I’ve thought about the wards, the traps, the Solstice enforcers who will stop at nothing to protect their stronghold. And through it all, I keep coming back to one thought: this can’t just be about brute force. We need precision, timing. We need to rely on each other, even if our alliances are tenuous at best.

I glance at the faint scars on my hands, remnants of my training over the past week. They’re a reminder of how far I’ve come, and how far I still have to go. Tonight isn’t just a battle—it’s a test. Of my strength, my resolve, and my ability to see this through.

But most of all, it’s a chance. A chance to set things right. A chance to bring Lara back.

And I’m not going to let it slip away.

The soft knock on the bedroom door pulls me from my thoughts. I turn to see Lucian stepping into the room, his presence a mixture of calm and tension that mirrors my own. He’s always so composed, yet tonight, there’s something in his eyes—a storm of emotions he’s holding back.

“You should be resting,” he says, his voice low as he closes the door behind him.

I shake my head. “I can’t. Not now. My mind won’t stop racing.”

He steps closer, his gaze softening as it sweeps over me. “It’s a lot to carry, Sylvie. You need to be prepared for the night, though.”

His lips quirk into a brief, almost-smile, but it fades just as quickly. “I mean it. You’ve come so far in such a short time. What you’re doing... it’s more than anyone should have to bear. If something goes wrong tonight...”

“Lucian,” I interrupt, meeting his gaze. “If something goes wrong, we’ll deal with it. Together. I’ve made my choice.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but the silence between us feels heavy with unspoken words. Then, as if compelled by something neither of us can name, he reaches out, his hand brushing against mine. The touch is gentle, grounding, and yet it sends a shiver through me.

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s not. None of this is simple.”

I step closer, tilting my head to look up at him. “Maybe not. But it’s worth it. Isn’t it?”

For a moment, the weight of everything—the plan, the danger, the uncertainty—melts away. It’s just us, standing in the quiet of this room, clinging to something neither of us can fully define. Slowly, he leans down, and I meet him halfway, our lips pressing together in a kiss that feels like both a promise and a question.

The kiss deepens, our movements instinctive and filled with an urgency that matches the storm swirling around us. His hands find my waist, pulling me closer, while my fingers tangle in his hair. There’s no hesitation now, only the raw need to hold onto this fleeting moment.

Our bond—our connection in this lifetime—has been growing from the moment I first stepped foot in his classroom. But between the act of Lucian taking my virginity and drinking from me, it’s transformed into something I can’t even properly describe with words. It’s otherworldly.

It’s not just desire, not just some fragile infatuation. It’s something deeper, something ancient, something that thrums through my veins like a song I’ve always known but never had the words for until now. Every glance, every touch, every whispered vow between us feels like a thread weaving our souls together, tighter and tighter, binding us to something beyond this moment, beyond this lifetime.

His presence is carved into me, into my very essence. I feel him even when he’s not near—an ache, a whisper at the edge of my senses. It’s as though the act of giving myself to him, of allowing him to drink from me, has unlocked something raw and primal between us. A tether stronger than blood, deeper than love.

He sees me—truly sees me—in a way no one else ever has. And when I look at him, I don’t just see a man or even a vampire. I see a force of nature, an unrelenting storm that I have no desire to seek shelter from. He’s my anchor in the chaos, my quiet in the madness. He makes me feel safe, but more than that—he makes me feel seen. Like I’ve been waiting for him all my life, maybe even longer.

I don’t just want him. I need him. Not because I can’t stand on my own, but because the world feels sharper, more vivid, more real when he’s beside me. And the terrifying truth is, I don’t think I’d ever be the same without him now. Because Lucian Draedon isn’t just a part of my story—he’s woven into the very fabric of who I am. And the fact that I’ve found him again, in this lifetime, says it all.

“Sylvie,” he breathes against my lips, his voice rough with emotion. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Don’t,” I whisper.

The rest of the world falls away as we give in to the pull between us. His lips find the curve of my neck, and I gasp as his hands trail over my body, exploring with a reverence that makes my heart ache. It’s not just passion—it’s something deeper, something neither of us can put into words.

He lets out a low sound, somewhere between a sigh and a growl, as I push the fabric off his shoulders. His skin is warm under my fingertips, a contrast to the cold tension that’s been building between us for weeks. When his hands slide up my back, pulling me closer, I feel the strength in his hold—protective, yet unyielding.

I lead him backward until the edge of the bed presses against his knees, and he sits without breaking the kiss. My heart pounds as I climb onto his lap, straddling him, and his hands find my thighs, sliding up to settle on my hips. We’ve continued growing closer, and shared many more intimate moments, since he first took my virginity. Each time feels brand new. Like we’re bound together just that much more.

There’s a brief moment where our eyes meet, and I see everything he’s trying to say without words—fear, desire, and something far more profound.

“You’re incredible, love,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. His lips trail down my neck, sending a shiver through me as I press closer to him.

My hands roam over his chest, tracing the lines of muscle and scar tissue, each touch a silent promise. The need between us is electric, urgent but layered with tenderness. As I move against him, his breath catches, and I feel his grip tighten, grounding me while also surrendering to this moment.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to his collarbone, tasting the salt of his skin as his hands slide under the hem of my shirt. He pauses, giving me a chance to stop him, but I reach for his hands, guiding him to lift it over my head. His gaze roams over me, and the intensity in his eyes makes my breath hitch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, his hands cupping my waist, as though I might vanish.

“Lucian, please,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss him again, my hands tangling in his hair. The kiss grows hungrier, deeper, and as I shift against him, I feel his body responding to mine. There’s no hesitation now, no second guessing—only us, drowning in each other.

“You never have to ask me nicely,” Lucian whispers against my skin. “Not for this.”

This moment…it feels like something more than passion—it’s a collision of everything we’ve been holding back. Every touch, every movement speaks of trust and longing, a desperate need to connect before the chaos of the night ahead. The world outside fades away, leaving only this moment, raw and unfiltered.

I take his cock from his pants and adjust him at my opening before guiding him inside. Lowering myself onto him completely, we both sigh in unison. In the midst of everything else happening, this is the one thing that can always take me from those incessant thoughts.

I move slowly, with precision, up and down his length as he bends to my breasts, admiring them as he takes them in his hands. My head lolls backward as I continue the motion, allowing him to bottom out inside of me before moving back up and down once more. His moans of pleasure only spur me on further, and when he reaches between us to massage my clit, I lose the sliver of control I was barely holding onto.

“Lucian!” I cry out, unable to stand the desperate need welling inside of me. He’s always controlled and careful with me, shielding me from his animalistic tendencies, the feral side of him I’ve yet to experience—in the bedroom, anyway. But for a split second, I think he may lose that bit of control he has too. I look him in the eye and his gaze is so deeply intense, so unwavering, and something lights his beautiful orbs as his breath catches.

“Fuck, Sylvie,” he grunts out as I pick up the pace, and he bends down to bring my nipple into his mouth, using his expertly skilled fingers on my other. I cry out in complete bliss as he moves his fingers back to my clit and circles the small bud in time to my own movements, and before long, he’s sending me over the edge of utter desire. I’m careening into the void, and I don’t have any care in the world because he’s the one making me come undone—shattering me in the best possible way.

He forcefully grabs me by the hips and starts to control my movements, and I sense him close to the edge as well. “Fuck, Sylvie. Fuck.” He repeats the words like a mantra, my name from his lips a prayer as he does unthinkable things to my pussy. He slams me onto his cock and lifts me back up, repeating the motion again and again as he claims my lips in a bruising kiss as he comes.

He holds me, keeps himself bottomed out inside of me as he cradles me to his chest, both of us heaving and panting and coming down from the intense orgasms that just rippled through us. I don’t know how long we stay in that position; it seems like hours but is somehow over too soon. When we finally break apart, he exits the room only to get a warm cloth to clean me, and I revel in the way he cares for me.

After he finishes, we reposition ourselves on the bed and lie tangled together, the weight of what’s to come pressing against the fragile bubble we’ve created. His fingers trace absent patterns on my skin, and I close my eyes, savoring the quiet.

“Whatever happens tonight,” he says softly, his voice steady despite the vulnerability in his words, “I’ll protect you. Even if it costs me everything.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. Instead, I press a kiss to his chest, over the steady beat of his heart. “We protect each other. No matter what.”

He doesn’t answer, but the way he holds me says enough. For this moment, in this room, we’re not fighters or leaders or pawns in someone else’s game. We’re just us.

And that’s enough.