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CHAPTER FIVE

CASSIEL

“Rest now,” I say to her, taking her hand and leading her to the bed.

She gives me a grateful smile. “Will you stay? All of you?”

“Of course,” CJ says immediately, already moving to secure the room. He checks the windows, runs his hands along the walls, and I can feel him testing for magical wards or surveillance.

William drifts closer to the bed, now nothing more than a transparent figure again. “Nothing will get past us.”

I settle into the chair beside her bed. The feel of her feeding still lingers. Her bite was sharper, sweeter, more powerful. It was borderline addictive.

“Cassiel,” she murmurs sleepily, already half-buried under the covers. “Thank you. For letting me feed.”

“It was my honour,” I reply honestly.

CJ finishes his security sweep and moves to the other side of the bed, fully clothed but clearly intending to stay close. “Sleep, Issy. Tomorrow is going to be a bitch of a day.”

“Gee, how restful,” William remarks.

CJ sticks his middle finger up, and William rolls his eyes. I’m unsure why I can see the ghost now when I couldn’t before, but it has to have something to do with Issy.

Within minutes, her breathing evens out, but even in sleep, power glows from her in gentle waves. Silver light occasionally flickers beneath her skin, and I can sense the vast reservoir of energy she’s drawing from with every unconscious heartbeat.

CJ stands stock-still at the end of the bed, tension radiating off him in restless arcs.

He throws one last glare at the door, as if sheer will alone could keep the world and its monsters at bay.

William’s outline remains fixed beside Isolde, his gaze never leaving her.

We hold a silent vigil: knights and monsters alike, bound by chaos, lust, and an oath none of us ever spoke but all intend to keep.

After a time, CJ breaks the silence. “We need to plan,” he murmurs, dropping his voice so it won’t wake her. “They’ve been patient for centuries. Now they’ll be desperate. She tipped the board over tonight.” His eyes move to me, sharp and searching.

“What?”

“We need to infuse the human blood with magical power. She can’t sustain herself by feeding from us constantly. It’s impractical. There has to be a way to get our power into the human blood we give her.”

My eyes drift over to William. “Any ideas on that, being what you are?”

“A ghost?” he replies.

“You know what he means,” CJ growls. “Stop being petulant and help her.”

“A hybrid of different powers,” William says, ignoring CJ’s tone. “Infusing regular blood with supernatural traits will be difficult, but not impossible. We could channel power into it before she feeds.”

“Will she still crave our blood?” I ask, noting the way she clings to the sheets even in sleep, as if every part of her is holding on for dear life.

“Yes,” William confirms. “But it will lessen the intensity and the risk.”

“Then we start tomorrow,” CJ decides. “Prepare as best we can before The Collectors make their move.”

“And if Blackridge plays against us?” I challenge, watching for any sign of doubt in the arrogant vampire.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Then we make sure his games blow up in his face. Violently.”

“Violence,” William remarks dryly. “Always your answer.”

“Issy likes it when I’m violent,” CJ retorts.

“Then she’ll love it when I get my hands on The Collectors,” William replies, his tone shifting from sardonic to deadly serious. “No one’s going to take her from us. Not again.”

“Isolde’s power is even more than I imagined. Once she learns to control it, she will be unstoppable.”

“So will we,” CJ says.

The fire in his voice echoes in the silence, and an unexpected surge of agreement moves through me. In our own ways, we’ve all been outcasts, rebels, threats to a world that wants to cage us. Together, with Isolde, we may be more dangerous than any of us dreamed or feared.

I watch her sleep, her dark hair fanned across the pillow, the glow of power illuminating her skin like moonlight.

The brand on her chest is visible above the edge of her shirt, a haunting reminder of the forces aligned against us.

The thought of anyone taking her, imprisoning her, or hurting her sets off an anger in me that I’ve never experienced until I fell.

Whatever it takes, whoever we have to fight, Isolde will be free.

“She’s going to wake up thirsty again,” William observes, his transparent form hovering beside the bed. “We’ll have to manage her hunger carefully. If it overwhelms her...”

“It won’t,” CJ interrupts with ruthless certainty. “She’s stronger than that. Than any of us.”

Stronger, but not invincible. Not yet.

“Maybe she is a goddess,” I say, quite seriously. It’s not a subject I throw around lightly, and I’m more than knowledgeable.

CJ gives a humourless laugh. “Then we’re worshipping her, whether she realises it or not.”

“That’s the truth,” William agrees, his gaze locked on Isolde’s sleeping form.

“And she doesn’t seem to mind,” I add, noting the small, contented smile on her lips.

It’s a delicate balancing act, but we’re not without our own strengths. Each of us is a wild card in this high-stakes game, unpredictable enough to keep even the most ancient players on edge.

I imagine heaven is watching too, curious about this new chapter in my existence. What do the celestial powers think of me now? One marked for damnation, pledged to a vampire blood queen?

Damnation or destiny, it doesn’t matter.

Isolde shifts in her sleep, murmuring our names like a promise. Like a challenge.

The days ahead will test us all, but we’re ready. For The Collectors, for Blackridge, for any force that dares to stand between us and the creature who has become our obsession.

It’s going to be glorious.