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GAIDA

My free hand shakes, the other clutching Dante’s tightly. He’s gone. I stood by and watched.

My father is dead. The thought repeats, echoing through my mind like a bell tolling in an empty cathedral. My father is dead, and I helped make it happen. Not directly, but I didn’t stop it either. I wanted him gone, wanted to be free of his schemes and manipulations, and now I am.

So why does my chest feel so hollow?

“It had to be done,” Luke says quietly, reading my thoughts. His voice sounds more like himself now. Maybe because the sword is gone? Gone but not forgotten. His eyes meet mine over Dante’s slumped form.

“I know,” I whisper, squeezing Dante’s hand. “I’m not upset about that. He was going to kill Dante. He would have sacrificed me without a second thought. I just—” I break off, unable to articulate the storm of emotions churning inside me.

As Luke carries Dante toward the academy building, I follow, stepping carefully around debris and bodies. The courtyard is a war zone.

“Where are we going?”

“His room will be the most comfortable place for him to recover.”

“I’m fine,” Dante grits out.

“No, you’re not,” I murmur, squeezing his hand.

Dante tries to lift his head, but winces, letting it fall back against Luke’s shoulder. “Just a scratch.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” I tell him, keeping pace with Luke’s long strides. “And I’m not an idiot.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he mutters, but there’s no heat in it. His eyes drift closed, his breathing becoming shallow and laboured. Fear spikes through me.

“Luke—”

“He’ll be fine,” Luke assures me, though his expression is grim. “He’s a vampire. A strong one. He is dazed, nothing more.”

We make our way through the damaged academy, passing groups of shell-shocked students and staff. Some are tending to the wounded, others simply staring blankly at the destruction around them. No one stops us or questions why the Headmaster is carrying a bloodied student through the halls. Perhaps they’re too traumatised to care, or perhaps the sight of Luke Blackthorn with that dangerous gleam in his eyes is enough to keep them at bay.

The corridors leading to Dante’s rooms are mercifully empty. Luke kicks the door open, not bothering with the handle, and carries Dante to his bed.

Luke lays him down carefully, mindful of his injuries. Dante hisses through clenched teeth as his body settles against the mattress, his face pale beneath blood and grime.

“Sorry,” Luke murmurs, stepping back to give him space.

I hover anxiously by the bedside, cataloguing Dante’s injuries with growing horror. His neck is a mess of purple bruises in the distinct shape of fingerprints. His breathing is shallow and uneven, suggesting broken ribs. Blood soaks through his torn clothing in multiple places, and his left arm lies at an unnatural angle.

“This is bad,” I whisper, reaching out to brush dark hair from his forehead. He manages a weak smile at my touch, but his eyes are glassy with pain. “He isn’t healing.”

“I’ve had worse,” he says, voice raspy from his damaged throat.

“No, you haven’t,” I counter, fighting back tears. “You have never fought and killed a vampire like my dad, so shut the fuck up.”

The door bursts open as Felix returns, his arms laden with blood bags. “Grimm sends his regards,” he says, dumping his cargo on the nightstand. “And says to tell you that if you’d waited five more minutes to kill Aurelius, he would have won the betting pool.”

“There was a betting pool?” I ask, momentarily distracted from my worry.

Felix shrugs, already tearing open one of the blood bags. “The bets were all on Dante.”

“Nice,” he says, nodding his head with a shit-eating grin. “Wonder why that is?”

“Because you are a fucking lunatic with a death wish,” I growl and shove Felix out of the way.

He spills blood on Dante’s tee, not that it matters much.

“Here,” I say, glaring at Luke to stop me.

When he grips my wrist and lowers it to Dante’s mouth, my heart skips a beat. His eyes never leave mine as Dante bites down sharp and fast, sucking on me like a vampire starved. Luke’s pupils dilate, and he drops his gaze to watch Dante drinking from me. Arousal spikes in the air, and if Dante wasn’t on death’s door, who knows what would’ve happened.

Felix clears his throat. “Let’s not turn this into a blood orgy while he’s half-dead, shall we?”

“Jealous?” Dante mumbles against my wrist, his lips curving into a smile before he takes another deep pull.

“You wish,” Felix retorts, but there’s no malice in his tone. His eyes meet mine over Dante’s prone form, a silent communication passing between us. He’s worried too.

I let Dante feed for as long as I dare, feeling the familiar light-headedness that comes with blood loss. When my vision starts to swim, Luke gently but firmly pulls my wrist away from Dante’s mouth.

“Enough,” he says. “You’re no good to him unconscious.”

Dante licks the puncture wounds and sits back. The bruising around his neck already looks less severe, and his breathing seems easier. “Thanks,” he murmurs, his eyes clearer now. “That’s better.”

“Drink more,” Luke commands, handing him one of the blood bags Felix brought. “Your body needs to rebuild. And you.” He shoves one at me.

As Dante obediently tears into the bag, I sink into a chair beside the bed, suddenly exhausted. The events of the day crash over me like a tidal wave. My body aches in places I didn’t know could hurt, and my mind feels stretched thin. I take a deep pull from the blood bag and sigh. “So, you and Mashtar. Want to explain that one?” I ask Luke.

He smiles. “It’s simple. He is my new sire.”

I nod along because what the fuck else can you do. “Right. Okay. So how does that work?”

“It’s complicated.”

“That’s helpful,” I mutter, taking another sip from the blood bag. The rich liquid revitalises me but does nothing to quiet the questions swirling in my mind.

“When I took up the sword,” Luke continues, his eyes distant, “I offered myself in exchange for the power to stop the ferals. Mashtar accepted.”

“Just like that?” Felix asks. “Ancient beings don’t usually make fair trades.”

“No, not just like that,” Luke admits. “I expected to give my life.”

The words sound distant, like thunder going off miles away that you hear, but it doesn’t really register.

Until it crashes closer.

“What did you just say?” I ask quietly, rising and placing the empty blood bag down with deliberate care.

His blue eyes fix on mine, and he knows what he has done to me. “I know how it sounds, Gaida. But I had to do something to keep you safe. This was it.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I can keep myself safe. You… you…” I take a jagged breath before I launch myself at him with a vicious growl, slamming my hands onto his chest, forcing him to stumble back. “You! You had no right to offer your life like that! Never again. Do you understand me?” I’m shouting now, pummelling his chest with each word. “You don’t get to sacrifice yourself for me!”

Luke catches my wrists, his grip firm but gentle. “Gaida?—”

“No,” I snarl, yanking myself free. “I don’t want to hear it. You were going to leave me. Just like that. No discussion, no warning, no goodbye.” My voice cracks on the last word, betraying the depth of my hurt.

“I did what was necessary,” he says, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions I can feel brewing beneath his controlled exterior. “To protect you. To protect everyone.”

“Bullshit,” I hiss. “You made a unilateral decision that affected all of us. That’s exactly what my father would have done.”

Luke flinches. His eyes darken, a flicker of gold and crimson swirling in their depths before subsiding. “That’s not fair.” His voice is deathly quiet.

“None of this is fair,” I snap back. “But here we are.”

Felix steps between us, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Perhaps we could put a pin in this and focus on the more pressing issues? Like what happens now that Aurelius is dead, and Luke is bonded to an ancient being who may or may not be planning to destroy him?”

Dante chuckles weakly from the bed. “Always the pragmatist.”

“Someone has to be with you idiots,” Felix says, getting pissed off. “You vampires couldn’t remain calm if your lives depended on it. Flaring hot and cold in seconds. We have a serious problem here. Mashtar is Luke’s sire. Presumably because he wants you to do something he can’t, being trapped in a sword and all. Oh, here’s a fucking newsflash! He wants you to release him. And you will have to. You will have no choice because he is your sire and will exert his sire-y will on you because you were an idiot who decided that Dante and I couldn’t protect Gaida’s life. Well. Fuck. That, arsehole. Dante just killed Aurelius. Do you think he is worthy of protecting her now? Hmm? Do you?”

The three of us are stunned into a humiliated silence at Felix’s never-before-seen loss of his rag.

I’m the first to recover, lifting my hands in surrender. “Felix has a point.”

Luke’s jaw clenches, that telltale muscle ticking along his perfect cheekbone. “It wasn’t that I didn’t think you could protect her. It was that I couldn’t protect all of you. There were hundreds of ferals. They would have overwhelmed us eventually.”

“And now?” Felix demands, not backing down. “What’s your plan for when Mashtar demands you do something unthinkable? When he wants access to Gaida, which he clearly does?”

Luke’s eyes flicker to mine, something vulnerable crossing his features before his mask slips back into place. “I’m still in control. For now.”

“For now,” I repeat, the words tasting bitter. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

“It’s the truth,” Luke says. “I won’t lie to you. Not about this.”

Dante gets off the bed fully healed and bouncing now. “So we have what? Days? Weeks before Mashtar takes over completely?”

“I don’t know,” Luke admits. “It depends on how much I resist. How strong I am.”

“And how strong is he ?” I ask.

Luke’s expression darkens. “Stronger than anything I’ve encountered in fifteen centuries.”

The room falls silent as we absorb this. My anger hasn’t dissipated, but fear is rapidly overtaking it. “We have all been idiots, like Felix says. We are all to blame. Dante should never have nearly died trying to kill my dad, you shouldn’t have taken Mashtar as your sire, and I should never have been born!” Tears burst into my eyes, and I let out an ugly sob, and the pity party for one. I brush them aside as Luke is by my side in a flash. He cups my face and wipes my tears away with a low growl. “Blood tears,” he says. “Since when?”

I blink and see him through the red haze. “Since now, I guess.”

“Since you became the Blood Queen,” Felix states. “We can’t stop these events. Pitying yourselves won’t make any of this go away. We move forward. But first, we have to separate Luke from Mashtar. Gaida. Only you can do that.”

“What?”

“Sever the bond, and then Luke can sire to Constantine as was the plan.”

“Can we even do that?” I ask, shaking my head. “Mashtar isn’t exactly corporeal for me to sever a bond.”

“So you’re not even going to try?” His grey eyes flash dangerously and it’s sexy as fuck. This side of him, kicking our arses when we need it is something we desperately need.

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t know how.”

“Then figure it out,” Felix snaps, his composure slipping further.

“Enough,” Luke says. “I understand you are at your wits’ end with us idiot vampires, but we are not the enemy here.”

“You might as well be if you aren’t helping,” Felix snaps, glaring at him.

“The only way I know to sever the bonds is with the sword. No way Mashtar is going to accept that.”

“That would be safe to assume,” Luke agrees.

“Look,” Dante says, speaking up for the first time since he got verbally slapped down by Felix. “Felix is right. The most important thing we have to do right now is sever Luke’s connection to Mashtar. Gaida can do this with the sword. Yes, it poses a small problem, but I’m willing to bet that Gaida is stronger than Mashtar, or he wouldn’t need her. He is imprisoned in a fucking sword. Not exactly the big man, is he?”

“Except that he is,” Luke says quietly. “This isn’t a simple matter of power. Mashtar isn’t just trapped in the sword, he is the sword. And the sword is him.”

“But he’s still bound,” I argue, latching onto what feels like our only hope. “If he weren’t, he wouldn’t need you or me.”

“True. But severing the bond isn’t as simple as using the sword. The sword is his domain.”

“Where is it now?” I ask, realising I haven’t seen it since he and Felix returned.

Luke gives me a worried stare. “I don’t know. It vanished when I placed the chalice in the vault.”

Dante’s eyes narrow. “Vanished? Or was summoned?”

“I don’t know,” Luke admits. “But I can still feel it. Feel him.”

Dante moves in closer to me and takes my hand. “Can you call it back?”

“I don’t know if I should,” Luke says hesitantly. “The more I interact with it, the stronger his influence becomes.”

I take a deep breath, trying to centre myself amid the chaos of emotions. Felix’s magick has slipped a bit with our argument, and both mine and those bleeding through from the others are a deafening roar in my head. “What if I call it? It was meant for me, wasn’t it?”

The room goes still, all eyes turning to me. Luke’s face is unreadable, but I sense his concern beneath the mask of control.

“Let’s think about this logically,” Felix interjects, his anger at us seemingly vanished as a problem that needs to be solved has arisen. “The sword responds to Aragon blood. That’s an established fact. Mashtar may be bonded to Luke now, through the Aragon blood running through you since you two blood-bonded, or whatever it was that gave Luke the Blood Rights. But the sword itself will still recognise Gaida as the stronger of the two of you. Mashtar wants the worlds to merge back together, Draken wants to keep them apart. The Blood Queen, effectively Gaida, is on Mashtar’s side, and Luke is on Draken’s as the Blood Rights holder. This has to work to our advantage somehow, excluding the fact that Luke is now Mashtar’s charge.”

“So what do we do?” Dante asks, and I’m glad he did because I’m as lost as a puppy in a snowstorm.

“First, we need to understand the connections at play. Luke is bonded to Mashtar through the sword. Gaida is connected to the sword through her bloodline. Luke is connected to Gaida through their bond. There has to be a way to use these connections to our advantage.”

“I could try to call the sword,” I suggest, my voice steadier than I feel. “See if it responds to me over Luke.”

Luke’s jaw tightens. “That’s dangerous, Gaida. If Mashtar can influence me through the sword, what might he do to you?”

“I’m not suggesting I use it,” I say, crossing my arms. “Just call it. See if it responds.”

“Let’s try something simpler first,” Felix suggests. “Luke, can you feel where the sword is now?”

Luke closes his eyes, concentrating. The room grows unnaturally still as we watch him. After a moment, his eyes snap open, a flash of gold and crimson swirling in their depths before fading back to blue.

“It’s here,” he says. “In the vault.”

“You mean the vault where we just secured Draken’s chalice?” Felix snaps.

“Seems so. It didn’t move locations when it vanished, it just went invisible,” Luke groans.

“Oh, this is bad!” I exclaim. “This is bad. Those two things are meant to be kept apart!”

“But are they?” Dante asks. “If one is a merger and one is a separator, maybe if we bring them together, then we will implode.”

“That is wishful thinking,” Felix mutters. “They will act like polar opposites on magnets, being able to get near each other but forced apart.”

“So what do we do?”

Silence falls, and when Luke speaks, my blood runs colder. “We release Draken.”