Page 11 of Blood Sings (Beyond the Gloom #1)

I stormed into Godfather’s office, the reassignment notice crumpled in my fist. “You’re assigning me to another guild?” Fury and disbelief choked me. I was shaking. The Sparrows wouldn’t survive under a projector like Matei, or worse, if I left them vulnerable to Lev Wurdulak. “No. I will not accept this.”

The room, like much of Corvin Palace, walked the line between tasteful and pretentious. A massive desk dominated the right, a seating area the left, and at the far end, before velvet-curtained windows, stood a conference table fit for a war council. Towering oak shelves dominated the walls, showcasing antiques and mementos from Bogdan Enescu’s eight-hundred-and-seventy-three years of existence.

He sat behind his desk, eyes fixed on a spread of reports. There always seemed to be papers around people in charge. It reminded me of how my reports had always gone unacknowledged and unanswered.

“Projector Tepes. Have a seat.” He raised his head, pinning me with his ‘commander’ gaze, his power leaking in waves.

My cheeks flushed hotly as I bowed, a touch deeper than usual, and lowered myself into the nearest armchair. The leather exhaled a mix of tobacco and wine, making my nose wrinkle.

“I’m sorry, sir. I spoke out of turn—”

He raised a hand, then pushed a strand of salt-and-pepper hair behind his ear. “It’s alright, Aurora. I understand your concern.”

I tried to return his smile, but it felt hollow, echoing the pain in my heart. Bogdan Enescu had been my father’s brother-in-arms long before earning his general’s epaulets. He was all I had left of a father figure.

Which made this reassignment order hurt even more.

“The Sparrows haven’t suffered enough losses to warrant a new projector,” I said, my gaze fixed on the red line on the map behind him, marking the ‘Active War Zone’ where the eighth ward once stood.

For a heartbeat, chaos engulfed the room, and I was back there—the explosion, sulfurous fumes burning my nostrils, the roar of twisting metal drowning out my own screams, and my father’s vibrant eyes dimming before me. The memory tore through me like jagged shrapnel, leaving me breathless.

I blinked hard and forced myself to the present. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. “I don’t understand,” I croaked. “I’ve requested reinforcements for our losses. Why reassign me now?”

For forty-two years, I’d led the Sparrows. Sixty-seven outliers, five captains—we’d endured countless missions together. Shared sacrifices, shared triumphs. How could I just walk away?

The realization struck like lightning, and I shot to my feet, heart thumping against my ribs like a caged beast. “You’re disbanding them? Without even consulting me?”

He sighed heavily. “You’re overthinking this. I’m not abolishing the Sparrows—”

“You’re taking away everything I have left,” I murmured.

I’d already lost so much—my trust, my safety, my pride and dignity. The joy and intimacy I had looked forward to in a Blood Pact. I couldn’t lose my guild too.

A sharp knock shattered the silence. The door creaked open, a wave of jasmine drifting in.

“Lieutenant Popescu. Join us,” Commander Enescu said, gravel coating his voice.

Selena snapped a salute—fist to heart, heels clicking—before sliding into the vacant chair beside me. Her tight smile mirrored mine, though confusion creased my brow. The black turtleneck, gadot skirt, and thick-soled Mary Janes she had on were jarringly casual for this setting. I loosened my collar, unease coiling my limbs. What was she doing here on her day off?

The Commander’s eyes hardened to chips of ice. “Aurora, listen. Your father would’ve challenged that bastard prince publicly. I’m bound by rank and can’t break Lucian’s magic.” A muscle feathered in his jaw, his hands clenching into fists. “Only you can match the Blood Link. When your power manifests, you’ll be Lev’s equal. For now, I’ve taken this to the Council.”

Selena scoffed. “The Council? Sir, with all due respect, they’re useless. We know where their loyalties lie.” Her dark eyes flashed as she darted a glance at me. “They won’t care what that monster did.”

I gaped at her, heat rushing to my head, my molars grinding. “I thought we agreed to keep this quiet,” I hissed, gesturing between us.

My scars twinged. They rarely hurt now, but my mind hadn’t been right since Lev bit me. Every attempt to harmonize with the Sparrows left me out cold, bleeding from my eyes and ears. At least the Stalkers had been quiet these past few weeks.

“You said we needed allies.” Selena shrugged. “The Commander’s with us.”

I readied my voice to argue, then decided against it. She had a point. The Commander was one of the few people we could trust. Still, a flicker of betrayal ignited in my chest, smoldering like an ember. This was my story to tell, my pain. I wished she’d let me choose when to share it—or to share it at all.

“I would have preferred if you’d come to me sooner,” the Commander said. “But I understand it’s sensitive, and you’d rather confide in your—”

“Sir,” I interrupted, taking a deep breath and steadying myself, “I appreciate your concern, but please, don’t mention Elena. I’m done with her. For good.”

Godfather’s face was a mask of concern and smoldering anger—not at me, I realized, but at the situation. At Lev. At Elena. At a world that had failed to protect me.

He held my gaze, then nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Well, my door is always open. No matter what.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Thank you. I… I’ll remember that.” The words came out clipped, tension threading through my voice despite my efforts to keep it neutral.

Turning to Selena, I locked eyes with her. “Sel, I know you mean well, but…” I paused, jaw clenching briefly. “Some things are hard to talk about, even indirectly. Maybe next time, give me a heads up before my personal affairs become a topic of discussion, yes?”

I left the rest unsaid—how each mention of the attack made my skin crawl, forcing me to relive the fear, confusion, dread, guilt, and shame of that day. How desperately I wanted to move on, to forget. But I could see the realization dawning in Selena’s eyes. She meant well, but now she also understood.

Selena nodded and reached out with her hand hovering near mine, not quite touching. “I’m sorry, A,” she whispered. “I just… I wanted to help. I’m here for you, however you need.”

I took it, giving it a quick squeeze. “I know.” Eager to change the subject, I squared my shoulders and met the Commander’s gaze. “Alright, let’s get back on track. Sir, I need an explanation. Why am I being reassigned?”

The warmth in his eyes cooled, his demeanor shifting to that of the Guild Division Commander. “I need a new projector for the Black Guild,” he said. “It’s a restructured unit—the best of the best. Former captains and vice-captains, the elite of our defense.”

Darting my eyes at Selena and then back to him, I couldn’t shake the feeling that her presence here was tied to more than what Lev Wurdulak had done to me. “I’m assuming there’s more to this reassignment than just me commanding an elite guild?”

“It is,” he admitted. “It will keep you safe until Dracula awakens or you inherit your magic. You can plead your case to our Creator then, or be strong enough to challenge the prince yourself.”

I raised two fingers. “Two problems with that plan. He’s scheduled to awake in fifty years”—I dropped the middle finger—”and there’s no telling when I’ll get the Blood Aura. How is that supposed to keep me safe? I-I can’t marry him. ”

His voice lowered to a growl, dark and dangerous. “Aurora, I won’t let you proceed with the Blood Pact, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Count me in on that,” Selena added firmly.

“Then how?” I pressed. “How exactly will changing guilds help me?”

“It’s the Black Guild’s captain,” he explained. “There was an… incident a while ago. The investigation is long overdue.”

I glanced between them, disbelief quickly giving way to disappointment, then indignation. My stomach hollowed. “This is your grand plan? Hide me away between the outliers like some dirty secret?”

Deflating back into my seat, I continued, “Don’t misunderstand me. If I see Lev in a thousand years, it would be too soon. But I can’t abandon my duties out of fear. What kind of queen runs at the first sign of trouble? How can I earn my people’s trust and loyalty if I run like a coward?”

Selena surged to her feet, her cheeks flushed. “You’d rather look over your shoulder every moment? Lev assaulted you in your own house, A! What’s stopping him from cornering you in the palace hallway—or on your way home? Nowhere inside the walls is safe anymore. He’s grown too brazen.”

The Commander leaned forward, the wood creaking softly as he steepled his hands. His weary, ancient eyes pierced into mine. “You speak of duty, Aurora. But your primary duty right now is to survive, to become strong enough to take back your throne. A dead queen serves no one. This isn’t retreat, it’s strategic withdrawal.”

His voice dropped an octave lower, a rumble that I felt vibrating in my bones. “With the Stalkers roaming freely, accidents happen. You’ll disappear in a patrol gone awry, have a martyr’s death. Meanwhile, you’ll lead the Black Guild, gather intelligence, build strength, all while out of Lev’s reach. When you return, you will be more powerful than ever.”

“The Sparrows,” I choked out. “If Lev hurts them because of me…” I couldn’t finish, the fear for my guild squeezing my chest.

Underworld’s balls, am I really considering leaving them? Faking my own death?

“I’ll erase any trace linking them to you. There’s no existing paperwork about them… except your reports.”

The Commander opened a drawer, retrieved a bundle of creased documents, and tossed them onto his desk. The thud echoed in the silence.

“These are the outlier casualties you sent in the last six months. I don’t have to tell you how dangerous it is if the prince finds out about them. Stop documenting them. The Republic no longer recognizes them as citizens. We can’t accept death records of those who don’t officially exist.” In a softer tone, he added, “I can’t assist your efforts. No one takes this matter to heart anymore.”

“After everything they sacrifice—”

“Aurora, your ideals are admirable, but sometimes their value lies in their very unattainability. You, as future queen, can make real change. But first, you need to be alive and safe.”

I clasped my hands behind my neck, sighing heavily as I stared at the ceiling. “So I’ll trade one monster for another?” I muttered.

“A conniving sonofabitch for bloodthirsty Stalkers,” Selena hummed, her tone sardonic as she slouched back into her seat. “Pick your poison. At least your magic works on the hybrids.”

Supposedly.

Thousands of reports from the initial attack on the Republic claimed Blood Manipulation could control Stalkers. But no projector today had tested this beyond the preserved blood samples at the Academy. Separation, coagulation, tracking, altering its dynamics—it was easy to manipulate when it didn’t fight back.

The thought of flying over the contested zones and facing live Stalkers made the fine hairs at my nape stand on end, and I shuddered with a mix of terror and exhilaration.

I dropped my hands to my lap, worrying the button on my leather coat until it nearly came loose. “And the Sparrows’ new projector?” I asked, my voice tight. “They need someone competent, someone who’ll protect them.” Stoneheart was strong and opinionated. He would disregard his projector, just as he had me, if it meant the survival of his guildmates.

The Commander’s eyes turned to steel. “Aurora, you know as well as I do that on the battlefield, safety is never guaranteed.” His jaw locked briefly, but his tone lost its edge. “I promise you, I’ll personally select and oversee their new projector. If you accept the Black Guild position.”

I nodded, pressing my lips into a thin line as I stared at my boots. His words, though I knew them to be true, hit me like a punch to the gut. A projector could only do so much against Russkaya’s hybrids. Those monsters never tired, never followed a logical plan. For every one we cut down, two more took its place. It was an endless, nightmarish cycle.

Pain shot through my temples.

I pressed my fingers against my forehead, trying to ease the building pressure. The weight of abandoning my guild settled an even heavier weight on my shoulders. But staying… staying could mean condemning them all.

“I…” My voice faltered. I forced down a swallow, once, twice, before the words finally came. “I’ll do it. For their sake—and mine.” Raising my chin, I steadied my voice. “I’ll take command of the Black Guild and defend the Tenth Ward.”

The decision was simple in the end. Step into the unknown or live a lifetime of regret. I chose the unknown. I had too many regrets as it was.

A tight, almost sad smile pulled at his lips. “About the Black Guild’s captain… Harbinger has quite a complex history.”

Recognition jolted through me. Stoneheart had mentioned Harbinger when his mysterious guild had swooped in to aid us. He had claimed they were on patrol, but even then, I found it hard to believe they had detoured almost a hundred miles to the ninth ward.

Leaning forward, I gripped the edge of my seat, curiosity and dread wrestling in my tone. “Harbinger? I’ve heard about him, but—”

“ The Harbinger?” Selena yelped, clawing her nails into my arm. Her scent shifted, floral notes giving way to bitter grass.

Trying to lighten the mood—and save my arm—I quipped, “What, was the Lord of the Underworld unavailable?”

“Don’t joke about him,” she snapped, her face draining of color. “He’s—”

“The longest-lived outlier,” the Commander interjected. “Over five decades on the front lines. We know little about him or his team, except they’re seasoned warriors with complete control over their elemental powers. Harbinger’s magic remains a mystery.”

My mind reeled, blood rushing to my head. Fifty years of service? Most outliers didn’t survive their first year outside the detention camps. “How? Shouldn’t he have earned his civil rights by now? Why hasn’t he returned?”

Commander Enescu’s features tightened as he rubbed his chin, his fingers brushing through the coarse hairs of his goatee. “None of them want to return. No living family, as far as we know.”

“Then why keep fighting?” Selena asked.

“If I could read minds, Miss Popescu, we might have won this war decades ago,” he huffed. “What matters is Harbinger is our best frontline fighter, and he’s doing a hell of a great job at keeping the Stalkers at bay. But…” his voice dropped, a scowl pulling at his brows, “the manner in which he damages his projectors… is unprecedented.”

I blinked, stifling a laugh. “Damages projectors? Sounds like a bad ghost story to me. Surely it’s more likely for a projector to harm an outlier?” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but that’s hard to believe.”

“I’d hoped your brother would bring the captain in for questioning, but he dismissed the reports as manipulation tactics.” He sighed, long and low. “Whether it’s true or not, projectors who’ve worked with Harbinger in the past requested reassignment or early discharge.”

“But why would Harbinger do that? He’d be signing his own death sentence.”

“That’s what we need to find out,” he said, flattening his lips.

“Sir,” Selena cut in, her voice bitter as wormwood, “you forgot about the projector who took his life. After one mission with Harbinger, he walked into the sun—”

“Suicide?” I all but shrieked. “That’s extreme.”

Talk about stating the obvious.

Purebloods were too proud for that, our survival instinct too deeply ingrained. And to go by way of sunlight…

Commander Enescu nodded grimly, his eyes darkening to a burnished sienna. “Projector Olaru, during your Academy days. Left no explanation. His death shocked us all.” His teeth locked. “I would’ve investigated sooner, but no one volunteered for the job. Sending someone onto the battlefront isn’t a decision I take lightly. This is our best chance to uncover the truth and keep you away from the prince. You’re our best hope, Aurora.”

“If Harbinger’s endangering projectors, he’s putting us all at risk,” I agreed, then frowned as it dawned on me. “Wait, you said Academy? That means Harbinger’s served for eight decades.”

“There are no records, but you’re right.”

Eight decades fighting Stalkers? Even our army of two hundred thousand purebloods couldn’t stop Russkaya’s advance. Yet one man held out for years?

Like I said—a ghost story.

“The Black Guild can keep you safe, but be cautious,” he said. “Avoid harmonizing during sorties. Limit your interactions with Harbinger and the others. Remember why you’re there.”

“Sir, it’s my duty to know my outliers. If they accept me as their projector, I’m committed to fostering connections.”

Selena’s fist hit the armrest with a crack that made me wince. “She never learns,” she muttered.

“No, she doesn’t. Good grief. You really do take after Vlad…” He sighed, matching the exasperation in her voice. “Now then, Projector Aurora Tepes, I appoint you Commanding Officer for the northern front’s Tenth Ward’s first defensive guild, effective immediately. I expect your finest.”

I stood, anxious excitement fluttering in my chest. “Thank you, sir,” I said, pride burning in my eyes as I executed the Republic’s traditional salute, fist over my heart. Like our flag, it represented the unity of the five races that once thrived in our nation—a symbol I carried with honor. The world could forget how we had once co-existed as equals, but I would not.

Commander Enescu nodded, shifting his gaze to Selena, who stood by my side, mirroring my salute. “Pack your things, soldiers,” his voice thundered. “I’ll inform the Black Guild’s captain of your arrival. The first supply zeppelin departs tomorrow after dusk. Extra supplies of synthetic blood—”

“But, sir! Selena isn’t even on active duty!”

“Oh, hush!” she scoffed, digging her elbow into my ribs. “We had the same training. I’m as skilled in combat as you.” She stepped closer, her head barely passing my shoulder. “I’m coming with you.”

The Commander studied us, his lips twitching in what I could only read as amusement. “You didn’t think I’d send you out there alone, did you? Besides, she’s a medical lieutenant. Who better to accompany you?”

Selena planted a fist on her hip, one brow arching high. “Exactly.”

Relief and dread warred. My protective instincts flared up at the thought of putting Selena in danger. Yet facing half a century alone was equally daunting.

“You have a life here, Sel,” I whispered, my voice almost inaudible even to my own sensitive ears. “Fifty years is a long time.”

“Nah,” she said, waving dismissively. “The Healing Corps will still be here when we get back, and I’ll have more field experience than the lot of them combined.” Her voice hardened slightly, a trace of venom creeping in. “Besides, I’m already dead to my parents since I refused that fossil they picked for a husband. They won’t even notice I’m gone.”

I inhaled her scent—jasmine, vetiver, and Red Brownies. Home. She wasn’t blood, but she was my safe space. I liked to pretend I didn’t need anyone until I did. I couldn’t do this alone.

“Sel, if you’re sure…” I half-smiled, still worried for her. “I won’t stop you. I’m too selfish for that.”

“You could have just accepted from the beginning.” She slipped her arm around my waist, and I draped mine over her shoulders. We held each other close.

Looking at the Commander over her head, I asked the question weighing on my mind, “What will you tell Elena and Petru?”

He tutted, rapping a knuckle on his desk. “Whatever’s necessary to prevent them from raising alarm. They need to believe you’ve died in action. The simpler your deaths, the easier for them to accept.”

“A patrol gone wrong…” I murmured, and he responded with a brief nod.

Nausea rose in my throat. Elena’s lies were a betrayal, sure, but Petru? He’d known everything from the start. He’d watched those mortals march to their deaths without a word. Not a gesture, not even a flicker of remorse. Nothing.

My brother wasn’t just complicit—his hands were as bloody as Lev Wurdulak’s. He’d looked me in the eyes and lied straight to my face when I’d asked about the fate of the discharged outliers. He knew, and he’d done nothing.

“I feel guilty deceiving them, but after what they did at that dinner…” I muttered, my fingers curling into fists. “Sweet Derzelas, how could I ever trust them again?”

“Your father was exceptional,” Commander Enescu said. “Life was easier for them when he was alive, especially for Elena as a consort, not leading a ruined coven.” He offered a sorrowful smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Petru may not show it, but he has the Republic’s interests at heart. Elena… she strayed from Vlad’s path. She’ll live with her choices. But you, Aurora, must prioritize what’s right for you and the Republic.”

“Be selfish. Live a little,” Sel added, giving me a light shove.

I groaned. “Easier said than done when the whole coven expects me to secure the crown—”

“You mean Elena expects you to marry that asshole and save the Tepes name,” she snarled.

“It’s more than her. I inherited Dracula’s marks,” I said, rubbing my nape. “Petru can’t ascend because of his governor’s oath. He needs to uphold democracy, serve the people. Our coven’s only path to monarchy is through me.”

The Commander’s voice swelled with pride. “Words of a future queen! I have complete faith in your reign.”

Selena squeezed my hand, her eyes bright with an intensity that compelled me to look away. “You’ve got this, A. I know you do.”

Their confidence left me lightheaded. How could they believe in me so much when I felt like I was on the edge of falling apart? Like I was one step away from making the worst decision of my life?

I’d never be my father. But maybe I could be something else, something our people needed. Returning to the old, savage ways wouldn’t move us forward. We couldn’t give in to the monster inside us. I could bridge the gap between mixed-breeds and purebloods, and mend our fractured homeland though.

I wouldn’t—couldn’t—accept anything less.

If healing our nation meant risking everything, then so be it. I’d walk through fire, fight from the shadows, stand on the front lines—I would die trying. We wouldn’t win this war from behind our desks or locked away in our command rooms.

My heart drummed, the sound thundering in my ears, but I held my salute. When I spoke, my voice was steadier than I felt. “Do what you have to do, sir. I’m ready.”