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CHAPTER FOUR

ISOLDE

His words, so fiercely possessive, so utterly CJ, send a shiver down my spine that has everything to do with a dangerous, heady thrill. A queen. Her knights. It’s the stuff of dark fairytales, the kind where the princess has fangs and the knights are monsters in their own right.

After that declaration, standing in the heart of SilverGate, a place built on secrets and steeped in blood, I feel less like a pawn and more like a loaded weapon.

A Sanguimonarch. The word still feels alien on my tongue, too big, too potent for the girl who was locked away for two decades.

But the power thrumming beneath my skin, the ancient echoes in my blood, they don’t lie.

The Collectors. They’re like me. Or I’m like them. The thought is a venomous viper, coiling in my gut. They don’t want my power; they want to be my power, to add me to their collection of perverted kin.

“So,” I say. “If I’m the queen, and you’re my knights, what’s our first royal decree?”

A dark smile touches CJ’s lips. “We hunt the hunters.”

“Miss Morvoren.”

My blood freezes, and I turn to Blackridge, sweeping towards us as if nothing has happened. “You are dismissed from classes until tomorrow night. I need to see you in my office first thing in the morning.”

“Why?” CJ asks.

Blackridge’s gaze lands on him. “That is none of your concern, Mr Aquila.”

“Actually—” he starts, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him.

He glowers at me but stands down.

Blackridge notices this interaction with shrewd eyes and looks back at me with a slight smile. “Tomorrow morning, Miss Morvoren. Until then, get some sustenance and some rest.”

He vanishes, leaving behind a chill in the air.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I mutter.

“No, but he is right about needing blood and rest. Come,” CJ says, remarkably calm, which makes me suspicious.

We leave the courtyard and head to the dining hall, where hopefully some semblance of normalcy awaits. Or at least the pretence of it. I haven’t had blood for a while. My stomach growls, but it’s different from normal hunger, sharper, more insistent.

We enter the dining hall, and immediately, the scents hit me. Dozens of supernatural students, their blood calling to me in a way I’ve never experienced. I can taste their essences in the air, categorising their power on my tongue.

“Sit,” CJ commands, guiding me to an empty table in the corner. “I’ll get you a couple of cups.”

William hovers around, not moving too far away from me. I know he wants me to fix him, but I don’t even know how I did it the first time, let alone how to do it again. Cassiel sits down and takes my hand, running his fingers along the veins of my wrist.

CJ returns with two cups of blood and places them in front of me. “Try that and see how you get on.”

I pick up the first cup and sip it slowly, but as soon as the blood hits my tongue, I groan and slurp it back quickly.

I finish the cup, fighting the urge to lick it clean. The hunger recedes slightly but doesn’t disappear completely. It’s a temporary relief that highlights the vastness of what remains unfilled.

We sit in relative silence, my attention split between the blood and the supernatural buffet surrounding us. Each heartbeat in the room calls to me now, but not equally. Some blood sings louder, more enticingly. The more powerful the creature, the stronger the call.

“I need to get out of here,” I say abruptly, setting down my cup. The hunger is building again, faster than it should, and I need privacy before I do something I’ll regret.

“Isolde—” CJ says, but I cut him off.

“I’m fine,” I insist, rising from the table. “I just need a moment.”

I make it back to my bedroom as the first tremor hits. Locking the door behind me, I lurch to the bathroom and grip the edge of the sink, knuckles white, as waves of hunger roll through me.

Silver light courses through my veins, visible beneath my skin like a network of glowing rivers. The hunger intensifies, a ravenous beast clawing at my insides, demanding to be fed. Not just any sustenance, though, it wants power, magic, and the essence of supernatural beings.

I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, hoping the taste of my own power might satisfy it temporarily. A mistake. The moment my Sanguimonarch blood hits my tongue, the hunger roars to life fully, overwhelming all reason.

I gasp, fighting for control.

My reflection grins back at me, wild and hungry, eyes gleaming with predatory intent. I reach out to touch the mirror, and it shatters beneath my fingertips, fracturing my reflection into a thousand hungry selves.

The bedroom door opens, and I whirl, a snarl building in my throat, to find Cassiel in the doorway. CJ stands just behind him, his expression grim, while William hovers near the bed.

“Isolde,” Cassiel says softly, taking a cautious step forward. “Is everything okay?”

“Stay back,” I warn, my voice distorted by hunger and power. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” he says with surprising confidence, moving closer.

His blood calls to me, ancient, powerful, rich with tainted celestial essence. Before I can stop myself, I move with preternatural speed, pinning him against the wall, my strength far exceeding what a normal vampire should possess.

“Isolde,” he says, not struggling against my grip. “Take what you need.”

“What?” I gasp, fighting the hunger even as my fangs extend fully. “I’ll hurt you,” I protest weakly, even as my body leans toward the fallen angel’s throat.

“You need this.”

With those words, he tilts his head, offering his neck. The scent of his blood overwhelms my last shred of resistance. I sink my fangs into his throat, and the world explodes into sensation.

His fallen blood tastes like lightning and starlight. It floods through me like liquid fire. I drink deeply, greedily, feeling his essence merge with mine, feeding the beast inside me.

Power builds, almost too much to contain.

“Enough,” CJ says sharply, pulling me back before I take too much.

I release Cassiel, staggering backwards. The fallen angel slumps slightly, but remains standing, his complexion paler but his expression oddly satisfied.

“Better?” he asks, one hand pressed to the wound at his neck, which is already healing.

I nod, unable to speak. The hunger has receded, replaced by a rush of power unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

William moves in closer, drawn to me.

“William,” I breathe. The hunger stirs again at his presence, but differently, like recognising like.

“The power in you recognises me,” he says, drifting closer.

“Sanguinarch to Sanguinarch. But you’re overloaded.

Too much power, too fast.” He reaches out and touches my face.

His hand is cold but solid, not fully corporeal as he was briefly after the explosion, but far more substantial than his usual ghostly form.

Before I can respond, he leans in and kisses me.

His lips are like frost against mine, but the moment we connect, the excess power inside me flows from me to him.

It’s like an electrical circuit completing, energy finding its natural path to ground.

William draws off the surplus power, his form growing more solid with each passing second.

When he finally pulls away, I feel balanced for the first time since the nexus activated this dormant power. The hunger is still there, but it’s now manageable.

“Better?” William asks, his voice stronger, his form defined as it was the last time we kissed.

“Yes,” I whisper, stunned by what just happened. “How did you do that?”

“Blood calls to blood,” he explains. “Sanguinarch magic recognises itself. I can’t absorb all your power, but I can bleed off the excess when it builds too high.”

CJ and Cassiel exchange looks I can’t quite interpret.

“So, this is my life now?” I ask, gesturing to the three of them. “Uncontrollable hunger and power surges?”

“Not uncontrollable,” CJ corrects. “Just new. You need to learn how to manage it.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Practice,” Cassiel says. “Controlled feeding. Learning your limits.”

“And donors,” William adds. “Specific donors whose blood can satisfy your particular needs.”

I look between the three of them. The fallen angel, the secretive vampire, and the Sanguinarch ghost. “You’re volunteering?”

“We each offer something unique,” CJ explains pragmatically. “Cassiel’s fallen blood carries immense power. My blood…” He smirks. “Well, you’ve tasted it already, and William can help manage the overflow of power.”

“A feeding circle,” I say flatly, trying to process this new reality. “Like some kind of supernatural harem in reverse.”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. Yesterday, I was just a female twin vampire trying to adjust to academy life. Now I’m a Sanguimonarch, a creature that didn’t even exist a few hours ago.

“This is insane,” I mutter.

“Welcome to SilverGate,” William says dryly. “Where insanity is just the beginning.”

“Oh, I like that,” CJ says with a laugh. “Very apt.”

Despite everything, a laugh escapes me. It’s slightly hysterical, but genuine.

“So, what’s the plan, then?” I ask, looking at my self-appointed knights. “Beyond me learning not to drain the student body every time I get a bit peckish.”

CJ sighs. It’s the first time I’ve seen him even a little bit exhausted. “First, we find out what Blackridge wants tomorrow morning. That conversation will dictate our next move.”

“And The Collectors?” Cassiel asks. “We can’t forget about them, especially now you’ve played right into their hands.”

“Not intentionally,” I mutter, but he’s right. This is what could only be called a clusterfuck.

“We won’t,” William assures him, his form fading again to the brooding, handsome figure from a bygone era. “But CJ is right. We need to see what Blackridge wants first. He is a hundred moves ahead. Whatever he is doing, it will either help us, or… not.”

I stare at him. Not. I’d rather the creepy Headmaster was on my side with this, but honestly, only time will tell.