Page 9

The feeding club is magnetic tonight. It inhales the pulse of the music, the low hum of whispered promises, and the sharp, iron edge of spilled desire. Midnight Delight has always been a place where indulgence masquerades as freedom, where humans come willingly to lose themselves, and vampires come to remind themselves they cannot.

It’s even more alive tonight, as our vampires grow increasingly more thirsty—more feral. The bloodpack shortage has impacted us more than we’d care to admit, but with Ravenna’s supply she conjured, it’s helping to stave off our beasts.

From my perch in the shadows, I watch the room unfurl its secrets. The velvet-clad humans are purely bait and temptation, their laughter sharp against the sultry melodies of the live violinist. Candlelight flickers along the silver veins of the marble bar, where a few vampires lean lazily, indulging in drinks that shimmer crimson under the low purple lights. Above it all, the air is heavy with incense and lust, thick enough to suffocate.

I am not here to partake. We have enough bloodpacks to cure our shortage for the time being, but I won’t utilize any of them until the faction is able to replenish what they’ve lost. I can restrain myself from going feral, but I worry about our faction being strong enough to do the same.

I’ve always told myself this place was for listening, for keeping one step ahead of those who would see me undone. I enjoy hearing the word on the street for myself, and that is what I come here to do—most nights. That, and to reminisce with my old friend, Dorian. We both claim a certain sense of ownership to this place, but Dorian runs it.

I close my eyes, but the scent of her lingers, sharper than the cloves and myrrh that permeate this place. Sylvie . A drop of her blood is all it took to bind me to this restlessness, to awaken something I’d spent centuries burying. Her willing blood is in me now, haunting me like a melody I can’t stop hearing. And worse than the intoxicating taste was the knowledge it came from her—the young woman who feels like both an ending and a beginning.

The sharp shift in the room’s atmosphere draws me from my thoughts. A hush falls over the patrons, so subtle only the most perceptive would notice it. But I notice everything. The air grows taut, charged with an energy older than this place, older than most of the beings in it.

I don’t need to look up to know who has arrived.

He’s summoned me here, after all.

Viago Sanguine moves like a shadow-given form—fluid, deliberate, and utterly undeniable. He’s a storm dressed in tailored black, with every thread of his suit sharper than a blade. The humans shiver as he passes, though they don’t know why, their instincts bristling under the weight of his presence. Even the vampires straighten, murmured conversations fading into reverent silence.

He crosses the floor unhurried, his eyes already finding mine through the dim light.

“Lucian,” he says, his voice silk and steel. He sits without waiting for my invitation, his movements languid as he folds himself into the chair across from me. “You’re a difficult man to pin down these days.”

I lean back in my chair, fixing him with a calm gaze. “If I’d known you were looking for me prior, I’d have made myself even harder to find.”

He smiles, though it’s a blade more than a gesture. “Ever the charmer.”

“Why have you requested this meeting, Viago?” I ask, my voice steady, though I can feel the weight of his presence pressing against my thoughts like an unwelcome guest.

“To talk,” he replies, as though that isn’t the most dangerous thing he could suggest. He leans back, draping an arm over the chair in a display of casual power. His gaze drifts over the room, but I know better than to think he’s anything less than entirely focused.

“Yes, well. We did plenty of that at the council meeting the other night. Too bad you didn’t show for your faction,” I say dryly.

“Yes, it appears I missed the memo. I was on unavoidable business anyhow. You understand.”

“Convenient timing,” I say, unamused.

He chuckles softly, but there’s no warmth in it. “I hear the Unbound weren’t particularly cooperative.”

“They stormed out,” I reply, my tone clipped. “You’d know even more had you been there.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “I know all I need to know,” he replies. I have no doubt his second-in-command, Tobias, informed him. Still, he should have been there as the leader of the Ascendancy. “The Unbound are little more than feral dogs, barking at their own shadows. Let them run wild. They’ll burn themselves out soon enough.”

“And take half the world with them in the process,” I say. “Surely you do not want our region to be in the spotlight.”

His smile fades, and for a moment, the pretense drops. His gaze sharpens, cutting through the air between us like glass. “Surely not. However. This isn’t about the Unbound, Lucian. I’ve not come here to chat idly about old rivals and our inner faction turmoil. I’ve come here to discuss something somehow more disheartening.”

“And what, pray tell, is that, Viago?”

“You and your human slayer witch.”

My jaw tightens. “There’s nothing to discuss. She believed herself to be a human mere months ago.”

“Oh, but there is plenty to discuss.” He leans forward now, his voice lowering, carrying the weight of centuries. “The Solstice Society is stirring again, and I find it curious—no, suspicious —that their interest seems to align so perfectly with your newfound...entanglement.”

I force myself to hold his gaze, though the mention of her sets every nerve alight. “The Society has been hunting us for centuries. This has nothing to do with Sylvie.”

He perks up at the mention her name. “ Sylvie ,” he says, letting her name roll off his tongue. “What a sweet name.”

“Your point, Viago?” I inquire, growing angrier by the second.

“I believe the current Solstice issue has everything to do with her.” His words are a serpent’s coil, tightening with every syllable. “The girl’s bloodline is a flame, Lucian. She’s a spark in a room full of kindling, and it’s only a matter of time before someone lights the match.”

“You will never touch her,” I say, bending closer, my voice low and edged with warning.

Viago tilts his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “Touch her? No, Lucian, I have no need for such crude methods. But her bloodline... it’s unique. Precious. Power like that doesn’t simply exist without consequence. Do you think the witches won’t come for her, too? Or that Solstice won’t bleed her dry in the end? We can use her to our advantage in the war against the Society, Lucian. We need to be smart about this, their dark magic is not to be played with. Sylvie will be useful to us.”

“She’s not your concern,” I bite out, every muscle in my body taut.

“But she is yours,” he counters smoothly, his smile curling like smoke. “And that makes her my concern. Tell me, Lucian, how far are you willing to go to protect her? Would you bleed for her? Kill for her? Die for her?”

The words hang between us, heavy and deliberate.

“I’ll do what I must,” I reply, and I hate the way the truth of it tastes on my tongue.

Viago leans back, folding his hands in his lap like a man utterly in control. “Of course you would. That’s what makes you so... dependable. Ever a Midnight Alliance fellow.”

His eyes gleam as he shifts the conversation. “But enough about her. Let’s talk about the debt you owe me. I can sense you’re getting a little…” He trails off for theatrics, although he already knows the word he wants to use. “Tense.”

My hands curl into fists under the table. “I paid that debt decades ago.”

“Oh, Lucian,” he says softly, shaking his head. “You and I both know that’s not how this works. You owe me your life—your existence. And now, I’m here to collect.”

“What do you want?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

He leans forward, his voice dropping into something more intimate, more dangerous. “War is coming. The Unbound’s continued rebellion has thrown the factions into chaos, and the Solstice Society is exploiting that chaos for their own gain. The council is weak, divided. But together, you and I... we could join forces for the betterment of all—or most,” he says with a sneer. “Join me, Lucian. Stand by my side, and we could end this war before it begins. We could build something stronger, something lasting. We take out the Unbound and the Ascendency and Midnight Alliance unite as one. We conquer the Solstice Society and live freely again without looking over our shoulders at the dark cult they are.”

“And if I refuse to go to war with the Unbound?”

The smile that spreads across his face is slow and venomous. “Then you’d best hope the girl’s blood tastes as sweet as it smells coming from you. Because when the war begins, no one—human or vampire—will be safe. Not even her.”

I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor, but Viago is already rising, his movements as fluid as smoke.

“Think about it,” he says, brushing an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve. “I’ll return soon for your answer.”

And then he’s gone, melting into the shadows as easily as he arrived, leaving behind only the faint echo of his presence and the lingering taste of his threat.

I pace the perimeter of the room as remnants of Viago’s presence cling to my thoughts like cobwebs, and though he’s gone, his words echo in my mind.

Sylvie.

I had thought I could protect her by keeping my distance, by keeping her at the edges of this war. But Viago’s arrival has shattered that illusion. He knows about her—what she is, what she could become. And worse, he sees her as a means to an end, a pawn in his endless game of power.

* * *

I had to return to my schoolroom after meeting with Viago. Unfortunately, it was bound to be a late night. I’ve had nothing but extenuating circumstance after extenuating circumstance to tend to, and these papers refuse to grade themselves.

My door opens, and I turn sharply, my tension easing only slightly as I see Sylvie step inside. Her presence is sunlight breaking through the storm clouds, though it’s a light I know I don’t deserve.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says softly, her eyes darting to the scattered books and papers on my desk.

“You’re not interrupting,” I reply, though my voice is tighter than I’d like. “What are you doing here? It’s late. I thought you’d be tucked away at home.”

She hesitates, her hands twisting together. “I went to the library and lost track of time after my theory class. It’s too hard to sit still, Lucian. Plus, I wanted to ask how your meeting went with the Ascendency guy.”

“Well, it went, that’s for certain,” I tell her with a sigh. She pulls me by the hand over to the student chairs, and after a chaste kiss, we sit next to each other. Looking into her eyes brings me a peace I can’t deny. I am in love with her. I never lost the love I had for her; in fact, I believe it only grew with each year we spent apart.

“There’s something I need to show you,” I say, my throat tightening around the words. “It won’t be pleasant, but it’s the only way to explain.”

She watches me with those steady, unyielding eyes, and I know she’s braver than she gives herself credit for. I’ve seen it time and time again in the short time she’s been back in my life.

I reach for her hand, the connection between us sparking to life the moment our skin touches. She flinches, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Close your eyes, love,” I murmur.

When she does, I let my power unfurl and mingle with hers, drawing us both into the memory. The room dissolves around us, replaced by a flickering vision of years past.

The hall was once a grand ballroom—arched ceilings draped in velvet banners, shimmering chandeliers overhead—but now it lay in ruin. Torn tapestries dangled from the walls, and heavy drapes fluttered in a breeze that reeked of death. My footsteps echoed on the marble floor, sticky with fresh blood. Every breath tasted of copper and ash.

I had arrived there with a single hope: to end the war. Humans and vampires had been locked in senseless conflict for months, both sides leaving fields of bodies behind. I believed I could broker a truce, a chance for us all to coexist. I was naive enough to think peace could be negotiated with words alone.

When I stepped into that hall, the fighting had already reached its bloody crescendo. Bodies—human and vampire alike—littered the floor. Some had fallen clutching weapons, others with their throats torn out. The air hung thick with despair, and my heart thundered against my ribs, each beat screaming that I was too late.

And at the center of it all stood Viago.

He was young by vampire standards, his hair still dark and cropped close, his eyes holding a spark of arrogance. But he wore authority like a second skin, radiating power despite his youthful appearance. The Ascendancy faction had chosen him as its leader, a ruthless prodigy who could bend others to his will in their totalitarian lifestyle. Around him, pockets of remaining fighters cowered or lay dying. They hadn’t stood a chance.

I stumbled through the carnage, desperate to reach the survivors. My clothing was soaked with the blood of allies I’d tried—and failed—to save. Still, I clung to the belief that if I could only speak to him, show him reason, it might not all be lost.

“Viago!” I shouted across the expanse, voice echoing. My words sounded hollow against the moans of the dying. “Enough blood has been spilled. Call off your forces. Let’s… let’s end this.”

For a moment, he didn’t acknowledge me. He turned slowly, wiping a crimson blade on the tattered remains of a fallen human’s cloak, as though my plea was merely background noise. Then he smiled—that cold, calculating smile that would haunt me for eternity.

“You speak of ending a war,” he said softly, almost gently. “But you arrive too late. The Ascendancy has already claimed its victory here.”

I forced myself to approach, despite the trembling in my legs. The weight of so many deaths pressed in on my mind, the thick stench of blood nearly overwhelming. But I had to try. “This… this isn’t a victory,” I said, voice taut. “Look around you. You’ve won nothing but more hatred, more grief, more war.”

Viago tilted his head, considering my words. “Hatred. Grief. War. These are trifles, Lucian. What matters is power.” He gestured with his blade, indicating the corpses strewn around us. “I’m forging a new world order, and you think you can negotiate it away with pretty words?”

I swallowed hard, glancing at the few humans still clinging to life. I could hear their ragged breaths, sense their fragile hope that I might somehow save them. “I’m offering a chance,” I said. “A chance for peace.”

A low, mirthless chuckle slipped from Viago’s lips. “Peace? The only ‘peace’ these humans will know is in their graves. Their existence is an obstacle to our dominance.” He flicked his blade toward the captives. “Unless… you’d prefer I spare them?”

I froze. I saw the cruelty in his gaze, how he relished the moment. He was going to twist my idealism into a weapon. Sure enough, he turned to his subordinates—other vampires in the Ascendancy faction, hungry-eyed, loyal to him—and murmured a command I couldn’t quite catch. Instantly, several more humans were brought forward, bound and trembling.

“You see,” Viago purred, “I’ve been waiting for you to arrive. Word travels fast when someone is fool enough to believe they can end this war through talk. I knew you’d show up eventually, compelled by your inflated sense of heroics.”

He strode forward, and before I could move, his boot collided with my chest. The impact forced me back, and I lost my footing on the slick marble, crashing to my knees in a pool of blood. Pain tore through my ribs, but I refused to look away.

“Now,” Viago continued, circling me, “I give you a choice: your life… or theirs.” He gestured to the humans, who stared at me with desperate eyes. Some of them were children, no older than fifteen. Their fear was palpable, fueling my own.

My stomach knotted, horror and guilt spiraling within me. “You can’t force this on me. Let them go, Viago. I’m the one you want, not them.”

“Oh, but I can force anything I wish.” He crouched beside me, blade still in hand, blood glistening at its tip. “Swear yourself to me. To the vampires. To doing what is right and joining a faction, living among your own kind. Do as I command. Then I’ll let them walk free.”

In that moment, I understood I was cornered. If I refused, these innocents would die. If I submitted, I would be giving up my will, tethering myself to a monster. But the alternative—the thought of hearing those children scream—was unthinkable.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, my voice nearly failing me. “I… I’ll do it,” I whispered, staring at the faces of the captives. “Just don’t hurt anyone else.”

Viago’s smirk deepened. He seized my hair, yanking my head back to bare my throat. I heard the rasp of his blade against my skin, felt the press of cold metal. For a sickening second, I wondered if he’d kill me anyway. But instead, he cut a thin line just beneath my collarbone. My blood welled up, and he dipped his fingers into it like ink, drawing some ancient, dark sigil on my skin.

“You belong to me now,” Viago murmured, eyes locked on mine. There was triumph dancing in his gaze. “Through this blood, our bond is sealed. Your life, your freedom—mine to command.”

I shuddered, barely registering the pain, too hollow inside to protest. All around me, the moans of the dying human captives slowly faded, replaced by muffled sobs as they realized they might yet survive. But it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like the end of everything I stood for.

Viago rose, snapping at his subordinates to stand down. He gestured for the uninjured among them to start hauling bodies aside. “You have your precious peace—for tonight,” he said. “But tomorrow, we rebuild on my terms.”

I knelt there, drenched in the blood of strangers, tears of shame and guilt sliding down my cheeks. The humans were allowed to leave, stumbling out of that cursed hall into the night—but I stayed. I had no choice. From that day forward, my life belonged to Viago, and every step I took was chained to his ambition.

The last thing I remember before consciousness slipped into an exhausted haze was Viago’s low chuckle echoing across the marble floors, the tang of blood filling my lungs, and a single, crushing realization:

In trying to save them, I’d damned myself.

“This is how it began,” I say, my voice echoing through the memory. “My debt to him—to Viago, the faction leader for the Ascendancy. I vowed to live my life by vampire code and no longer worry myself with humans or their needs—or trying to save them from our people. I had to choose to join a faction.”

Sylvie gasps beside me, her hand tightening in mine. “And you chose the Midnight Alliance? Why was it so important to Viago that you side with the vampires?”

“That’s something I’ll never know. Over the years, he has said he saw potential in me. He wanted me with the Ascendancy, but I could never abide by their oppressive one-party lifestyle. At the time, there were only two: the Unbound and the Ascendency. Dorian and I, having long been friends even at that point, founded the Midnight Alliance as a middle ground. Unbound were feral and atrocious beings who wanted, and still want, humans to be their livestock. The Ascendency want to rule this godforsaken world with their tyrannical thinking. But we, the Midnight Alliance, have always aimed for peace among all sides. Between supernatural factions, between humans and supernaturals. We don’t believe in harming people because we can.”

Silence stretches between us and the quiet hum of reality presses against me—the muted ticking of the clock, the faint flicker of the overhead lights, and the steady rhythm of Sylvie’s breathing. But I can still feel the echoes of the past clinging to me, the weight of Viago’s smirk, the blood-soaked floor, the crushing failure that sealed my bond to him.

I look at Sylvie, and the expression on her face isn’t one I deserve. Horror lingers in her widened eyes as she tries to wrap her mind around everything, but it’s softened by pity—a pity that cuts deeper than any blade.

“You’re not the man in that memory,” she says softly, her voice like a balm I have no right to. “If you would have had your way, you’d have ended everything right then and there.”

“No,” I murmur, the word laced with bitterness. “But I still carry his sins. Monsters never forget their wrongdoings. And I’ll never forget the fact that I had to choose to live, and in order to do that, I bound myself with Viago for eternity. He believes he can use me in his game.”

I don’t tell her, not yet, that he also wants to use her.

Sylvie doesn’t move, but I can feel the weight of her gaze, sharp and unrelenting, cutting through the fog in my mind. Her silence stretches thin, the kind that demands more without uttering a single word.

She takes a cautious step forward. “You showed me this for a reason. Why does this matter now? Why is he resurfacing?”

I look away, my jaw tightening. The question hangs in the air, heavy and unavoidable. The past isn’t something I enjoy revisiting, let alone sharing. But Viago’s shadow has always loomed large, and now he’s set his sights on her. Whether or not she knows the specifics of his threats, she has a right to understand the noose tightening around me—and, by extension, her.

“Viago,” I begin slowly, “is not the kind of man who forgets a debt. He thrives on leverage, on power. And centuries ago, I gave him exactly what he needed to own me. Yes, I bent his rules a bit by creating a new faction and not joining his, but still, I sided with the vampires all the same.”

Sylvie crosses her arms, her fingers gripping the sleeves of her sweater. “What kind of debt are we talking about? You said it was blood—what does that even mean?”

I glance at her, noting the way her brows knit together, the way her lips press into a thin line as she waits. I can’t tell if she’s horrified or intrigued, but perhaps it’s both.

“Blood,” I say, my voice low, “is currency in our world. It binds us, seals promises, and ties us to one another in ways that can never truly be severed. It’s ancient magic, the kind that predates the curses and wars. When I made that deal with Viago, I offered my blood willingly as payment. It was the only way to secure the outcome I needed at the time.”

Her frown deepens. “What outcome?”

I hesitate, the memory rushing back with all its sharp edges and bitter aftertaste.

“I tied myself to him when trying to end the war. My blood gave him a link to me, a way to find me, to summon me, to demand... whatever he chooses. I’ve spent decades trying to keep my distance, trying to avoid being pulled back into his games. But now...”

I trail off, unsure how to finish the thought. Now he’s here again. Now he’s threatening her.

Sylvie steps closer, her voice firm but quiet. “What is he asking you to do?”

I let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand through my hair. “He’s asking me to choose a side. To join forces with him in his war against the Unbound faction. He wants the Ascendancy and the Midnight Alliance to come together as one. The council is splintering, the Solstice Society is stirring up disorder, and Viago sees an opportunity to consolidate power. He believes I’m a valuable ally—or perhaps just a convenient pawn. Either way, he won’t let me stay neutral. I believe he wants to rid our region of the Unbound, and I know he wants to eliminate the Solstice Society.”

Her eyes narrow, and I see the sharp edge of her intelligence cutting through the confusion. “Well, I know nothing about the Unbound, but I mean…I can’t see why we wouldn’t want to help him destroy the Society.”

“This is true, and I do intend on helping him take out Solstice in any way possible, I just…” I trail off, thinking about his threat to use Sylvie and her power. “I want to help on my own terms and not in the ways he’s asking of me. He’s capable of destroying much of our world.”

Sylvie tilts her head, her gaze piercing. “Is that why you showed me the memory? So I’d understand what he’s capable of?”

“In part,” I admit. “But also so you’d understand why I can’t afford to fail him—or to defy him outright. He has a way of twisting the knife, of finding the things you care about most and exploiting them.”

I force myself to stand, intent on retreating to my desk, to distance myself from her, but the weight of the vision—and the hunger gnawing relentlessly at my core—makes my body falter. The room tilts, and I stagger, my knees threatening to buckle.

“Lucian!” Sylvie moves without hesitation, her hand shooting out to steady me.

The warmth of her touch bleeds into my arm, grounding me in a way that is both comforting and dangerous. For a fleeting moment, I let myself lean into her, my head lowering just slightly toward hers as if some primal instinct in me craves the solace she offers.

But then it happens—the scent.

It’s subtle at first, like a whisper carried on a summer breeze. But it grows stronger, richer, wrapping around me like silk, tantalizing and intoxicating. Her blood. It sings to me, its melody haunting and inescapable, calling out to the deepest, darkest parts of me.

I freeze, the beast in me clawing its way to the surface, and I pull back as if her touch burns me. My chest tightens, my fangs aching in their sheath as my restraint begins to crumble.

“Lucian?” Sylvie asks, confusion and concern etched into her features.

“I can’t,” I rasp, my voice jagged and raw, cutting through the silence like shattered glass. I press the heel of my palm against my forehead, as if the pressure might force the hunger back into the abyss where it belongs. “I can’t be near you like this. Not right now. I’m too...”

My words falter as the scent wraps tighter around me, threading through my senses like a drug. I step back, desperate to put distance between us, but it’s like trying to outrun a shadow.

“Hungry,” she finishes for me.

The hunger lashes out, raw and unrelenting, and my mind betrays me with flashes of what it would feel like to give in—to sink my fangs into her neck, to taste the life that pulses beneath her skin. The image is vivid, almost tactile, and I dig my nails into the desk to stop myself from moving closer.

“Lucian...”

Her voice, her scent, her presence—it’s all too much. I spin around, my hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly I hear the faint crack of wood beneath my fingers. “Do you understand what I am? What I’ve done?” My voice is low and trembling, the words laced with desperation. “I’ve spent centuries starving the monster inside me, denying its every craving, and then you?—”

I choke on the thought, the memory of her blood still lingering on my tongue from that single, accidental taste. “You’re undoing me, Sylvie. And it’s not your fault, but it’s happening. Your blood—it’s like nothing I’ve ever encountered. It calls to me in a way I can’t... I can’t fight forever. It’s our bond. It’s inescapable.”

“You won’t have to,” she says. “The supply has already started to replenish. Ravenna has bought you time.” She pauses and then adds, “Do you honestly think you’ll hurt me?” I’ve told her I could never. It may now be a lie. Until I can replenish myself.

“Before I was sure I could never. Now, at this point, I don’t think I could hurt you,” I whisper. “I know it’s possible. After you willingly gave me your blood. It was different than when you felt you had to in the chamber. You wanted to this time. And it created yet another bond between us,” I tell her. “But with my current state, I don’t know how to control myself around you.”

She steps closer, and I force myself to stay still, though every instinct screams at me to retreat. “You haven’t used any of the bloodpacks from Ravenna, have you?” she asks, confusion lighting her eyes.

“I refuse to utilize those. Not until the faction is able to replenish their systems. Not until all of my people have been replenished.”

She lifts a hand to my face, once again closing the space I’ve put between us. Running her fingers down my cheek, she says, “You’re a good man, Lucian.” She pulls away when she senses my frustration over her nearness. “I trust you,” she says, her voice unwavering.

“You shouldn’t,” I reply, my fists clenching at my sides. “Not right now.”

I so badly want to pull her in, to kiss her, to right every wrong I’ve done to her—that I’ve done to all of mankind. But I can’t. Not right now, not while this hunger courses through my veins like a feral beast.

“Everything will be better when I’m able to properly consume again,” I tell her. “You’ll see.”

She nods, solemnly, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve let her down all over again.