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GAIDA

“Who?” I ask in surprise. “You think there is someone inside it?” I drop my voice to a whisper, staring at the sword with a renewed sense of ick.

The weapon lies innocuously on the floor where it fell, its golden light dimmed to a faint glimmer. It’s waiting. The idea that it might contain a consciousness—a soul—sends a chill crawling up my spine.

“I can sense their emotions,” Dante says carefully. “It’s foreboding, ominous, archaic.”

I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold. “I thought it was just... I don’t know, magickal knowledge. Ancient vampire history stored in the blade somehow.”

“Knowledge doesn’t have opinions. It doesn’t make predictions.” Dante crouches beside the sword, careful not to touch it. “This thing is guiding you. Making decisions.”

I join him on the floor, studying the runes etched along the blade. They seem to shift subtly when I look at them directly, never quite the same twice. “If someone is trapped in there, who could it be? We need Felix to decipher these runes, like yesterday.” I reach for the sword hesitantly, my fingertips hovering just above its surface. “Should I try to communicate with it? Directly, I mean, not just letting it overwhelm me with visions.”

“Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know.” I bite my lip, considering. “But if someone is trying to speak through me, maybe I could try speaking back.”

Dante looks uncomfortable but nods. “Be careful. Don’t let it take control again.”

Taking a deep breath, I wrap my fingers around the hilt. Immediately, the sword’s energy surges up my arm, but this time, I’m prepared for it. Instead of letting it wash over me, I concentrate on containing it, directing it inward rather than allowing it to expand outward.

“If someone’s in there,” I say firmly, “I want to know who you are and what you want.”

The sword grows warmer in my grip, its glow intensifying. For a moment, nothing happens. Then a single word forms in my mind, clear as if someone had whispered directly into my ear:

Mashtar.

“Mashtar?” I repeat aloud and fix my gaze on Dante’s. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. How much sense does that make?”

“All of it,” he mutters with a smirk.

We both roll our eyes, but then the presence in my mind shifts, like someone adjusting their position. I am the sword. The sword is me.

“You bound yourself to it,” I realise. “But you’re not Draken.”

A sense of amusement filters through our connection. Draken wielded me. He did not create me.

“Then who are you? What are you?”

Nothing.

I purse my lips. “So it was named after whoever bound themselves to it. Someone called Mashtar. Not Draken, but someone older.”

“Someone older than the first real vampire?”

I nod slowly.

“What does it want exactly?”

I direct my thoughts inward again. “What do you want?”

The response comes not in words but in sensations—a sense of recognition, of rightness. Blood calling to blood across millennia. An army. A war.

I meet Dante’s eyes again. “It’s not good. It wants a war.”

“With who?”

“I haven’t got to that part yet. I’m at the blood calls blood, build an army stage.”

“Fuck.”

“Well, let’s face it. There is no way in hell any of this was going to be good now, was it? We already know the first severed bonds were those who were most loyal to their sires, where that loyalty could be redirected to… the Blood Queen.” I say the last three words carefully. I don’t want to admit anything in front of this thing, stupid as that sounds.

Releasing the sword carefully on its preferred pillow, I sit back, processing what I’ve learnt.

“My father will come for me,” I say finally, changing the subject as the reality of our situation sinks in. “Just like yours is coming for you.”

Dante’s expression darkens. “Let them come. They can’t get past the wards.”

“For now. But Luke can’t keep them out forever. They’re the heads of the most powerful vampire families in the world. The founders of MistHallow. Eventually, he’ll have to let them in.”

“By then, Felix will have created a cloaking spell,” Dante insists. “We can hide from them.”

I shoot him a sceptical look. “You really think a spell, even one made by Felix, will work? They’ve lived for centuries, Dante. They’ve seen every trick. Probably did the same with their parents once upon a time.”

“It buys us time.”

I stare at the sword. “We need to find out who this Mashtar is, or was. Why Luke had the sword and why only I can touch it.”

Standing up, I move to the window, gazing out at the MistHallow grounds. Daylight filters through the trees, dulled by the mist that perpetually surrounds these grounds.

All of it is connected. All of it is my responsibility now, whether I asked for it or not.

“When my father comes,” I say slowly, my back still to Dante, “I’m going to have to face him. I can’t hide.”

“Gaida—”

“No, listen,” I turn to face him. “Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. Not run, not hide, but confront. The sword chose me. It’s showing me visions for a reason. If I’m going to be this thing they all keep talking about, then I need to start acting like it.”

Dante rises, his expression concerned. “Acting like it how, exactly?”

“By taking control of the situation instead of letting it control me.” I move to the sword and pick it up again, its weight familiar now in my hand. “My father, yours, the Equilibrium, whoever else is pulling strings behind the scenes. This is what they want. I’m just the bitch who can pick it up.”

“Fuck,” he snorts. “That makes more sense than anything so far. That’s why they came here for you and not at home.”

“Precisely. We knew it was all connected, but now I’m starting to get it. I’m a thing, a… means to an end. I’m not what they are after at all. The sword is the end game,” I say, feeling both relieved and disturbed by this realisation. “I’m just the stupid pureblood princess bitch they need to make it work.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t use those exact words, but yeah. That’s probably what they are thinking, the ancient arrogant pureblood fucking arseholes.”

We chuckle together, lightening the mood considerably after all the doom and gloom.

“Okay, so why now? Why not years ago when you first arrived at MistHallow?” Dante’s question is cautious, like he has an idea what the answer is but wants me to say it first.

“Because the pieces weren’t all in place,” I reply confidently. “You weren’t here. Felix wasn’t here. Luke and I hadn’t connected; I’m not sure if his going to the other dimension and coming back did anything other than cause us to find the sword. But the rest? It’s like a perfect storm.”

“So what do we do? If both our fathers are coming, we can’t hide forever.”

“We learn everything we can about Mashtar, about who they were way back when and try to figure out who this war is against.”

A knock at the door interrupts us. Dante crosses over to open the door.

“Hey,” he says. “That was quick.”

Felix strides past Dante, who closes the door. “What can I say, rebelling against my parents has never been something I could do, so I live vicariously through you.”

“Why not?” I ask.

He turns to me, those grey eyes full of amusement. “They died when I was ten.”

“Oh,” I mutter, feeling like an idiot. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Why would you?”

“I didn’t ask.”

The air snaps between us as he evaluates how to respond to that slice of selfishness from me.

“I’m an arsehole,” I mutter before he can formulate a response. “I’m sorry, Felix.”

“Don’t be,” he replies, shrugging it off. “It’s ancient history. Besides, I’ve brought presents.”

He holds up a small velvet pouch and a vial of dark, swirling liquid that seems to absorb rather than reflect light.

“The cloaking potion for Dante,” he says, tossing the vial to him. “Drink it all at once. It’ll last about twelve hours before you need another dose.”

Dante catches it, examining the murky contents with a raised eyebrow. “What’s in it?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Felix’s smile is all teeth. “Let’s just say it’s not strictly within the academy’s approved curriculum.”

“And this?” I ask, pointing to the velvet pouch.

Felix’s expression shifts to something more serious. “That’s for you. I figured you would need something similar to what Dante told me. I didn’t have your blood, so it’s a total invisibility concoction.”

My mouth drops open. “You can achieve total invisibility?”

“Hey,” Dante snaps, barging over and snatching it out of my hand. “Why didn’t I get this upgrade?”

I snatch it back possessively. The things I could do with this,

“You’ve been holding out on us,” I murmur, feeling a bolt of crazy lust for this serious dark sorcerer that I apparently know nothing about except that I’m attracted to him, and we have formed some bizarre, rare soul bond.

Felix’s lips twitch into a smirk. “I’m a dark sorcerer, Gaida. If I showed all my cards at once, where would the mystery be?”

Dante uncorks his vial, eyeing it suspiciously. “If this turns me into a toad, I’m coming for you.”

“It won’t turn you into a toad,” Felix assures him, leaning against the wall. “Worst case scenario, you might experience some mild hallucinations and temporary synaesthesia.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“You’ll hear colours and taste sounds. Nothing major.”

Dante groans and sniffs it. His face contorts in disgust. “Smells like... something I don’t want in my mouth.”

Giggling, I fist the pouch tightly. “What do I do with this?”

“Sprinkle it like fairy dust. Each will last approximately an hour. No more than two doses in a twenty-four hour period.”

“Or?”

“Or you might not come back.”

“Noted,” I murmur. I stuff the pouch down the front of my dress, nestling it between my tits.

“Oh, it’s hardly safe there,” Dante scoffs.

“You want to try and take it from me again?” I challenge.

He thinks about it but then backs down. “Probably not.”

“See?” I beam. “Perfectly safe. Now, we need to find out what we can about Mashtar. Who’s up for some digging through dusty books? Also, we need help deciphering these runes.”

“Usually I would,” Felix replies. “But I have to get back to what I was doing before I was rudely interrupted. I can take a look at it later if it will let me. Maybe it would be best if you could draw them for me?”

Makes sense. “Okay. What were you doing?”

He hesitates. “Homework,” he says smoothly, but I know he’s lying. I don’t push him, though. If he doesn’t want to tell me, fine.

“Guess it’s just you and me then,” I say to Dante.

He looks like he wants to make a smart comment but after a glance at Felix, decides against it. “Sure.”

“After I’ve checked on Luke. I need to go and see how he’s holding up,” I mutter.

“Of course.”

“Meet in the library in a bit?”

He nods and we all leave the room in varying degrees of contemplation. I glance back at the sword, but it’s gone again. Fucking piece of steel. Do us all a favour and stay gone.

Something tells me that wish won’t come true.