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We hurry the rest of the way to Isolde’s room, CJ practically carrying her as the sigils flare and fade beneath her skin. Once inside with the door locked, William immediately examines the mystical patterns appearing on Isolde’s arms.

“These aren’t random,” he says, tracing one particular symbol with his finger. “They’re ancient binding sigils, similar to the ones used in my own rituals, but far more complex.”

Isolde sinks onto the edge of the bed, exhaustion weighing her down. The silver light beneath her skin flickers erratically, struggling against the darker patterns of the black sigils.

“You might want to sit down,” she says finally, looking between William and me. “This isn’t going to be easy to hear.”

William crosses his arms, remaining standing. “I’m fine as I am.”

“Suit yourself.” She takes a deep breath, steeling herself.

“You are not going to like this,” CJ mutters.

“He tested me,” she says, her voice hardening. “He cut his wrist and wanted me to feed from him. I resisted him for hours.”

William’s expression darkens with understanding. “And then?”

“Eventually, I drank from him.”

The room falls completely silent. I watch as William processes this information, his possessive mind struggling to understand.

“You drank Blackridge’s blood.” William’s voice is unnaturally calm. “Blood that is clearly ancient beyond measure, from a being whose true nature remains unknown to us. An intimate act that now does what exactly? Are you fucking him?”

“What?” she says aghast, standing up, her expression turning murderous. “How dare you!”

“How dare you !” he retorts.

“It’s not like that,” CJ interjects. “After three hours of him tormenting her… you didn’t see what condition she was in or what he did to her.”

“What he did,” William repeats, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “was offer her exactly what he wanted her to take, and she took it.”

“That’s enough,” I say firmly. “What’s done is done. The question now is what Blackridge’s blood has done to her.”

Isolde looks at me gratefully. “It changed something fundamental inside me. Created pathways, connections that weren’t there before. Knowledge that isn’t mine keeps surfacing. And then in the courtyard, when I touched William’s spell energy...”

“The sigils manifested,” I finish for her. “Blackridge’s blood must have prepared you for this, making you receptive to specific magical frequencies.”

William seems to be keeping a lid on his temper, although it is still simmering under the surface. “His blood changed your fundamental resonance. You are now attuned to SilverGate.”

“And these sigils?” I gesture to the black marks that still occasionally glow beneath her skin. “What purpose do they serve?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not entirely sure yet. But they responded to William’s spell, almost like they were waiting for a trigger.”

William nods. “My spell. It was searching for you, specifically attuned to your magical signature. If Blackridge’s blood altered that signature...”

“That’s why it backfired. It wasn’t sabotage exactly, it was looking for the wrong thing.”

William’s temper erupts suddenly, and he crosses over to her, forcibly pushing her back to the wall with his presence looming over her alone. He slams his hands into the wall beside her head, making her jump. “Mine,” he growls, fangs extended, and he bites into her neck, savagely.

She gasps and arches against him, her hands fisting in his shirt as he draws deeply from her vein.

“William,” she cries out.

His feeding is rough, desperate, a claiming that goes beyond mere hunger. When he finally pulls back, his lips are stained crimson, and his eyes burn with fury and desire.

“You taste different,” he says, his voice raw. “His blood has changed you, marked you.”

“I’m still me,” Isolde insists, though her voice wavers slightly.

“Are you?” William’s grip on her shoulders tightens. “Because the woman I know wouldn’t have submitted to Blackridge’s manipulation so easily.”

CJ moves with vampire speed, grabbing William and slamming him against the opposite wall. “Back off. She’s been through enough.”

“Has she? Or has she given Blackridge exactly what he wanted?”

The tension in the room reaches a breaking point. My wings snap open instinctively, the air crackling with the potential for violence. These bonds we’ve been forging are being tested, stretched to their limits by jealousy and fear.

“She may have given him what he wanted, but it changes nothing. If he was tormenting her, who are we to judge her choices?” I ask steadily.

“We are the ones who are bound to her,” William snarls, his eyes blazing with possessive rage. “We are the ones who should have been there to protect her, not left her vulnerable to his sick, twisted games.”

“You’re right,” I say, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “We failed her. All of us. We allowed ourselves to be separated when we knew Blackridge couldn’t be trusted.”

CJ releases William but doesn’t step back. “The question is what we do now. These sigils, whatever they are, they’re not going away.”

Isolde touches her throat where the black marks occasionally flutter into view. “They’re alive, somehow. I can feel them responding to magical currents throughout SilverGate.”

“A monitoring system like the runes, but more invasive than ever. You are connected to him, to SilverGate. Blackridge can track your magical usage, possibly even your location, through those sigils.”

“Or influence it,” William adds grimly. “If they respond to magical frequencies, they could be used to amplify or suppress your abilities.”

“So the runes times ten,” she mutters.

“Looks like,” I reply.

The room falls silent as that sinks in. Blackridge has created a direct connection to her, one that could be exploited at any moment.

“We need to find a way to sever the connection,” I say, though even as I speak, I doubt it’s possible. Magic this ancient, this complex, doesn’t unravel easily.

“Or use it against him,” CJ suggests, his tactical mind already working. “If the sigils connect Isolde to SilverGate’s magical foundation, perhaps we can reverse the flow. Instead of him monitoring her, she could access his systems.”

William’s expression shifts from anger to intrigue. “That’s... actually not a terrible idea, Aquila. Not just a pretty face, eh? If Isolde can tap into SilverGate’s foundational magic, she could potentially override his control. Turn his own surveillance system against him.”

“That sounds catastrophically dangerous,” I warn. “If Blackridge detects what you’re attempting, he could use the connection to cause serious harm.”

“Everything we do is dangerous now,” she replies, her face grim and more determined than I’ve ever seen it.

It ages her in ways that I regret for her.

“If Blackridge wants to connect us, then let’s see what happens when I start pulling instead of just receiving.

But we can’t just sit here and wait for him to make his next move, along with The Collectors and Damadere looming.

If these marks give me access to SilverGate’s magic, then I’m going to use them. ”

I nod slowly. “What do you need from us?”

“Protection,” she says. “If I’m going to attempt accessing the foundational magic, I’ll be vulnerable. Completely open to whatever Blackridge might throw at me through the connection.”

William’s anger seems to ebb, replaced by his natural protectiveness. “We’ll shield you. Whatever it takes.”

“And if something goes wrong?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“Then it’s better to burn out than fade away,” Isolde replies. “We’re bound to each other, remember? For better or worse.”

“Wow,” William mutters. “That’s dramatic.”

I snort. “Let it not be said that we didn’t go out in a blaze of glory.”

“Gods,” CJ snaps, rolling his eyes.

I chuckle but focus on Isolde again. The determination in her voice reminds me of why I fell for her in the first place. This woman who refuses to be cowed by ancient powers, who stares into the abyss and dares it to blink first.

Isolde looks out the window at the dark sky and hisses. She points, and we turn to see what has caused her distress.

A Crimson Moon hangs over SilverGate, casting everything into a warm, hazy glow.

“If they weren’t on their way already, they are now,” she murmurs.