Page 24 of Blood Sings (Beyond the Gloom #1)

Fear rooted me to the spot, a primordial instinct screaming to stay perfectly still. But terror had always had a funny way of unlocking my tongue.

“Me,” I replied, sharp and defiant.

His right hand twitched, cords of muscles boiling under golden skin. He flickered and lunged to grab my throat.

I ducked, muscle memory kicking in, and spun away. His fingers grazed my cheek as I shoved Selena clear. This was between me and him.

We circled each other, predator and prey, though I wasn’t sure who was which.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Harbinger growled. “You could have gotten us all killed!”

I lifted my chin, keeping the tremor out of my voice. “I was saving your ass, you arrogant prick. Or did you miss the Stalkers sneaking up while you played god?”

His nostrils flared, a quiet grumble building in his chest. “I had it under control.”

“Clearly,” I scoffed, gesturing to the carnage around us. “Is leveling half the city your idea of ‘control?’”

He lunged again with a growl. This time, I wasn’t fast enough. His fingers wrapped around my neck, the world went dark, unfamiliar, and icy-cold, then he was slamming me against a wall. Debris rained down on us.

Like a brand, his touch seared my skin, the heat of his body seeping into me, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. All this I figured out later, but this was his varcolac surfacing—his erratic heartbeat, the molten gold in his eyes, the fever-hot skin. Harbinger always ran warm, but when he let the beast loose, he became an inferno.

“Listen carefully, princess,” he snarled, face inches from mine. My feet felt no ground. “Pull that stunt again, and I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Kill me? Like to see you try.”

The realization that I was once again at a man’s mercy ignited something primitive inside me. Rage and terror collided, my vision blurring crimson at the edges.

No. Not again.

Never again.

My body moved on pure instinct. I gripped Harbinger’s wrist, reached for the silver needle in my hair, and drove it deep into the nerve between his thumb and forefinger.

A shudder ran through Harbinger’s arm. His fingers spasmed, his grip loosening just enough.

I dropped, sweeping his legs. The mighty Harbinger toppled, a look of utter shock flashing across his face. I rolled, putting precious distance between us before springing to my feet. Harbinger was already rising, muscles coiled tight, eyes savage. Ravenous.

The entire exchange lasted mere heartbeats. Our audience stood frozen, mouths agape. Selena’s face was a mask of horror, while Terraknight’s hand held onto her, twitching as if unsure whether to intervene.

Harbinger pulled out the needle and dropped it to the ground, never taking his eyes off me. “You’ve got a death wish.”

Nervous laughter bubbled up. “And you’ve got an ego the size of Transylvania. Quite the pair we make.”

Harbinger charged.

I darted forward, aiming to slip under him and ram my fist into his ribs. Instead, we both slammed into Terraknight’s brick wall of a chest.

“Enough!” the vice-captain barked, restraining us both. His eyes ping-ponged between us, like he was dealing with troublesome children. “Stand down. Now !”

I bared my fangs. “If I hadn’t been guarding your flank, you’d be nothing but Stalker fodder—”

“A, let it go,” Selena pleaded, pulling at my wrist.

Harbinger’s eyes flickered, gold bleeding to crimson. “Why risk your neck for halfbloods? What’s your game, Projector?”

“Because I don’t want to see you hurt. Any of you.”

Then I saw it—my silk scarf dangling from his fingers like a trophy, and my stomach dropped to my toes.

Cold air lapped at my neck. My hand flew to my throat. Bare. Exposed.

No. No. No!

Harbinger’s gaze followed, his perpetual scowl softening a fraction as he took in the scars. Understanding dawned in his eyes, but it was too late. Shame burned through me like poison.

My pulse slowed. My face grew hot, my fingertips cold.

No. Please, no. His anger I could tolerate, but his pity… I wasn’t sure I could bear it.

“Shit,” Selena hissed, yanking harder.

I gently removed her hand, squaring my shoulders. “Give. That. Back.” Breath rolled around my lungs like a block of ice. The derelict side buildings closed in around me, choking me.

Harbinger dangled the scarf like a matador’s cape. Silver light glinted off his fangs as he grinned. “Tell me why you care, and maybe I will. Or come take it yourself, princess.”

That bastard.

I could use my magic, force him to hand it over. But my reserves were as drained as his. Engaging him on the mental plane might plunge me into bloodlust. The risk was too great.

Harbinger smirked, stuffing the scarf in his pocket. “What’s wrong? Scared?”

Terrified. Humiliated. Absolutely livid. “Of you? Please. If you open a portal, I might scramble your brain.” Total bluff, but I refused to let him see me crack. I forced a shrug. “I’ve seen what’s rattling around in your head. Not exactly impressed.”

Terraknight shook his head, his massive hand curling around Selena’s arm. “Come on, shortie. Let them sort out their problems.”

“Aurora, don’t—”

Terraknight threw her over his shoulder and whisked her away, a torrent of obscenities trailing behind them. Perhaps I should’ve listened to her. But I couldn’t show weakness—they’d never let us stay if I did. I turned back to Harbinger, his blazing eyes still fixed on me, promising a reckoning.

Harbinger closed the gap in a single leap.

I stumbled back before steel fingers clamped around my wrist, his other arm snaking around my waist.

He pulled me close, as if to dance, his minty breath hot on my face.

I thrashed, but it felt like battling a mountain.

“You expect me to believe you’ll play fair? That you’re not a cold-blooded viper like the rest of your kind?”

I recognized the shift in his hips a second too late. “Harbinger! Don’t you dare—”

The world spun. I sailed through the air and landed flat on my back. Air whooshed from my lungs.

Ow. Bits of gravel dug into my palms.

“Impressed yet?” His shark-like grin stretched like a white stain over his face.

He was playing . The bastard could have snapped my spine, but no—he’d cushioned my fall, made sure I landed right.

“Big bad original, laid out by a mutt .” He laughed. “I’d be blushing if I were you. At least try some magic, princess.”

Oh, he asked for it.

I gathered every scrap of power I had left, focusing it into a battering ram against his mind. The effort made my vision swim, a dull ache building behind my eyes.

“Kneel.”

He grunted, face contorting like Atlas shouldering the heavens.

I stood on shaky legs, adrenaline covering up the bone-deep exhaustion. Harbinger remained locked in place, every muscle straining against my command. He didn’t kneel. He wouldn’t kneel.

Even with his defenses down, my all-out attack still wasn’t enough to defeat him. When he broke free, there’d be hell to pay.

Warning sirens blared in my head. My last shred of self-preservation screamed, Release him and grovel, you idiot! But the damage was done. He was under my control, though only just, and I needed answers before he’d probably kill me.

“Did you know severing the Harmonization would hurt your projector?” The words came out ragged, each syllable an effort.

He fought the dual commands, but a troubled expression disturbed the sneer on his face. “No,” he grunted.

Truth. Which meant he was innocent of harming me, and maybe others. But Olaru’s death… No sane pureblood would give up their life over a trivial amount of pain.

I felt him slipping away. “What’s your mother’s name?” I pushed harder, ignoring the hunger clawing in my gut.

A deep, throaty sound bellowed in him. It was a sound of rage and pain rolled into one.

Oh no.

“What happened to her?”

Sweat beaded his brow. “Your precious Republic happened,” he snarled. “What do you think those fuckers did to a Russkayan diplomat’s wife?”

Remorse dug at me, but I pushed it away, concentrating on the implications. Only an original raised at court would marry into an alliance. A high-ranking pureblood, sacrificed for politics. They should have spared her. Killing or hurting our own was against our law, an offense punishable by sunrise.

I studied him, trying to place his bloodline. Not Tepes—I would have heard of his mother’s execution, no matter how hard the Republic tried to hide it. Wurdulak or Hansen, then? Hard to tell with the mixed blood. And political machinations meant that no one would freely speak about their traitorous relative.

His skin was too warm, too golden for a pureblood. Silver-white hair framed a face that lacked the sharp angles of Derzelas’ children. Only the crimson ring in his eyes and the potency of his blood betrayed his heritage. Everything else about him was too rugged, radiating a raw masculinity that could only have come from his father.

His varcolac father.

Visions of my wrists shackled beneath the Tribunal’s oculus flashed before my eyes. My blood turned to slush in my veins. Elena would fight for me, but if the Council discovered Harbinger’s true nature—and that I’d kept it secret—not even my brother’s rank would save me from execution.

I leaned close, my breath forming a small cloud in the crisp morning air. “I’m so sorry. The Republic should have protected her… and you.”

With a low growl that raised the hairs at my nape, he finally straightened. “Save your pity for someone who gives a damn, princess.” His eyes flashed red, then pure gold. “Shall we dance?”

“It will be my pleasure.” I tried to sound confident, but my use of magic on an empty stomach was taking its toll.

I stayed light on my feet, ready to dodge. The rubble and uneven cobblestones made footing treacherous. If he grappled with me, it was over.

He lunged once more.

I twisted past, the rush of air from his movement ruffling my hair. My kick connected with the side of his leg, the impact reverberating up my leg. It should have shattered concrete.

“Tickles.” He chuckled darkly.

His hand clamped around my arm like an iron vise and tossed me across the street.

The impact was barely noticeable, and I rolled, scrambling to my feet.

Harbinger’s smug grin greeted me. “You’re fun to play with. Good training dummy.”

Dummy?

His smile turned feral as he prowled closer. “Terraknight fills them with wheat bran. Nice not having to sweep up after smashing their heads.”

“I’m not your damn punching bag,” I snapped.

“Prove it.”

Blood drained from my face. My mouth turned into a desert. “I outrank you, you insubordinate ass!”

He pulled me into a crushing bear hug, his heat enveloping me, his scent overwhelming. “Rank means shit out here, princess. You’ve done nothing but piss me off.” He tilted my chin with a knuckle, all humor fading from his eyes. “My turn for questions. Who did this to you?”

Though his touch seared my skin, I didn’t pull away. His fingers ghosted over my scars, and I clutched his wrist, fighting back the flood of nightmares threatening to drown me.

“Don’t,” I whispered so quietly that even I couldn’t hear my voice. Every proud fiber of my being strung tight, and my eyes snapped to his.

He released me and took a step back as if the air between us had grown red-hot. The cold night air rushed in where his warmth had been. “Have it your way,” he said. “But here’s the deal. You want to play, Projector? Fine. But you and your little friend follow my lead. No exceptions.”