Page 18

18

GAIDA

As Luke exits Felix’s room with the transfusion equipment, a heavy silence falls between us. Felix sits on the edge of his bed, looking pale but somehow more vibrant at the same time, with my blood now coursing through his veins. I remain on his bed, still feeling the burn where the silver needle pierced my skin, though the wound has already healed.

“That was...” Felix trails off, staring at his hands as if they belong to someone else.

“Weird?” I offer.

“Transformative.” His grey eyes meet mine, and I see something new. It’s a depth, an awareness that wasn’t present before.

“Is it overwhelming?” I ask, suddenly concerned.

“Yes,” he admits. “But also beautiful.”

His hand finds mine, fingers intertwining. The simple touch sends electricity up my arm. Maybe it’s the blood exchange, or maybe it’s just the weight of what’s coming, but everything between us feels heightened, intensified.

“You have to come back to me.”

His smile is sad. “I’ll try my hardest.”

“No trying. Promise me.”

“Gaida—”

“Promise me, Felix,” I insist, my voice cracking. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine. “I promise.”

We stay like that for a long moment, sharing breath and space. His heartbeat is strong and steady, and I find myself counting each precious thump, knowing that after tonight, it will never sound quite this way again.

“I’ve never feared death,” Felix says quietly. “As a sorcerer, I’ve always understood it as just another state of being. But now...”

“Now?”

“Now I’m afraid of what I’ll miss. What we’ll miss.” His eyes search mine. “If I don’t come back.”

We lie down together, facing each other. Felix’s hand comes up to cup my cheek, his expression serious.

“If this is our last time together with me as me,” he says, “I want to remember every moment of it.”

“Don’t talk like that,” I whisper.

“It’s the truth.” His thumb brushes away a blood tear. “I need you to be prepared for all possibilities, Gaida. Even the ones we don’t want to face.”

“I can’t,” I admit. “I can’t imagine a world without you in it.”

His smile is gentle. “Then don’t. Imagine me coming back, different but still me. Imagine us figuring out this new life together.”

“Is that what you imagine?”

“When I allow myself to hope, yes.” He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “You, me, Luke, Dante. Finding our way together.”

The image warms me despite my fear. “It won’t be easy.”

“Nothing worth having ever is.”

I lean forward, pressing my lips to his. The kiss is gentle at first, almost tentative, then deepens as Felix pulls me closer. His hands tangle in my hair as mine slide under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms.

There’s a line we can’t cross, but we find other ways to connect. Our bodies press together, seeking comfort and closeness in the face of impending separation. His lips trace the line of my jaw, down my neck, making me shiver.

“I wish we had more time,” he murmurs against my skin.

“We’ll have eternity,” I promise, though my voice catches on the words.

“Eternity,” he repeats, as if testing how the word feels. “That’s a long time to be stuck with you.”

I laugh despite myself, grateful for the moment of levity. “Careful, or I might reconsider turning you.”

His smile fades, his expression turning serious again. “Would you? If it meant saving me?”

“What do you mean?”

“If the only way to save me was to walk away from me, to let Dante or Luke turn me instead, would you do it?”

The question catches me off guard. “Where is this coming from?”

“Just something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Well, don’t. I’ve got this. I—” I break off, the words catching in my throat.

His eyes find mine, hopeful.

“I love you,” I say finally, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I love you, and I’m not losing you. Not to death, not to someone else’s sire bond. You’re mine.”

The possessiveness in my voice surprises me, but Felix’s smile is radiant. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

He pulls me into another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. When we part, both breathing heavily, he rests his forehead against mine.

“I love you, too,” he says. “That’s why I’m doing this. All of it.”

We hold each other close, the reality of what’s coming hanging over us like a shadow. Hours, not days, separate us from the ritual that will change everything.

“I should go check on the preparations,” Felix says eventually, though he makes no move to leave the bed.

“Five more minutes,” I plead, tightening my arms around him.

He smiles, settling back against the pillows with me in his arms. “Five more minutes.”

We lie together in comfortable silence, my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. My fingers trace idle patterns on his shirt, memorising the feel of him, the warmth of him.

Then, without warning, a sharp pain lances through my head. I gasp, my body going rigid.

“Gaida?” Felix’s voice sounds distant, underwater. “What’s wrong?”

I try to answer, but the words won’t come. The room around me blurs, colours bleeding into one another. Felix’s concerned face fades, replaced by swirling darkness.

Then, suddenly, I’m somewhere else entirely.

A vast stone circle rises around me, larger and more ancient than the one in the forest. The sky above is blood-red, the moon impossibly large and bright. In the middle of the circle stands a woman who could be my twin, though her features have an otherness to them, something not quite right.

“The first Blood Queen,” a familiar voice says beside me.

I turn to find Draken standing there, his green eyes luminous in the strange light.

“What is this?” I demand. “Another vision?”

“A memory,” he corrects. “One you need to see.”

Around the circle, figures move in elaborate patterns, chanting in a language that sounds alien yet strangely familiar. The Blood Queen raises her hands, and power surges through the stones, making the air shimmer.

“What is she doing?” I ask.

“Creating the first of our kind,” Draken says. “Crafting guardians for the veils between worlds.”

As he speaks, the chanting figures begin to change. Their bodies contort, not in pain but in transformation. Fangs lengthen, eyes shift colour, and skin pales.

“The first vampires,” I whisper.

“Yes.” Draken’s expression is solemn. “Created with purpose—to protect the balance between worlds.”

“But something went wrong.”

He nods, the scene around us shifting. Now the Blood Queen stands facing a man whose beauty is marred by the rage distorting his features. Though his form remains mostly human, there’s something twisted about him, something wrong.

“Mashtar,” I say.

“Before he took that name,” Draken confirms. “When he was still her consort, her chosen one.”

I watch as they argue, their words inaudible but their fury evident. Mashtar gestures violently toward the horizon, where the sky appears torn, revealing glimpses of other worlds beyond.

“He wanted to merge the worlds,” Draken explains. “To rule over all realities as one. She refused.”

“So he betrayed her.”

“He believed she betrayed him first. By denying him what he saw as their rightful dominion.” Draken’s voice is heavy with ancient sorrow. “Their love turned to hatred, and that hatred nearly destroyed everything.”

The scene shifts again. The Blood Queen stands alone in the circle, her arms raised, blood flowing freely from self-inflicted wounds. The ground beneath her glows with complex sigils, similar to those Felix will create for our ritual.

“She couldn’t kill him,” Draken says quietly. “She didn’t have what it takes. But you do.”

“And you?” I ask. “Where do you fit in all this?”

His smile is sad. “I was her second choice. The one who could never fully replace what she lost.”

“So that is why when he dies, you die. You are connected.”

But he’s gone, and the vision with him. I gasp, coming back to myself in Felix’s room, his concerned face hovering above mine.

“Gaida! Can you hear me?”

I blink, trying to orient myself. “I’m here.”

“What happened? You just went rigid, then mumbling things I couldn’t understand.”

“Draken,” I say, sitting up slowly. “I know now why he dies.”

“And are you okay with that?” he asks carefully.

“Yes,” I say, with a decisive nod. “And so is he.”

I lean into Felix’s embrace, drawing strength from his solidity, his certainty. In a few hours, he’ll sacrifice everything to destroy an ancient evil. And I’ll do everything in my power to bring him back.

We stay like that for a long moment, holding each other as the day wanes toward evening. The ritual looms before us, inescapable as the tide. But for now, in this quiet room, we find a small measure of peace in each other’s arms.

I must have drifted off because, what seems like moments later, but is in fact hours, there’s a knock at the door and Felix gets up to answer it.

Dante’s voice cuts through my brain fog, “It’s time to start preparing. Luke wants everyone at the stone circle in an hour.”

Reality crashes back in, cold and unforgiving.

They hover next to me as I stare at them both.

Then Felix cups my face. “This isn’t goodbye, Gaida. It’s just see you on the other side.”

“The other side,” I repeat, trying to match his certainty.

He kisses me one last time, pouring everything into it. Fear, hope, love, determination. I kiss him back just as fiercely, memorising the taste of him, the warmth of him, the feel of his heart beating strong against mine.

Then we part, both of us taking deep breaths.

“Ready?” he asks.

I reach for his hand, threading our fingers together. “As I’ll ever be.”

I take Dante’s outstretched hand, and together we leave to face whatever awaits us at the stone circle.