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Chapter Twenty-Seven

ISADORA

The three of us left the Ravenspell estate, Lucien in the lead, my hand in his, and Ricky bringing up the rear. Lucien’s car sat in the driveway, still waiting for us, but the second we stepped toward it, the glowing thread suddenly changed course and shot toward the nearby woods.

Lucien and I shared a glance, but naturally we followed it.

Because why wouldn’t we chase a floating strand of light into the forest in the middle of the night while hunting down my psychopathic ex-mate?

I wish I could say it sounded like the setup to a really bad joke. But really, this was beginning to feel more like the opening scene of a horror movie.

With a collective breath, we stepped into the forest. Branches immediately clawed at me as we moved, their snaggy little arms tugging at my clothes and hair. I batted them away from my face and made a mental note to never enter these woods again.

“Just how big are these woods anyway?” I muttered as I pulled my foot out of something wet and murky.

“Big enough,” Lucien said. “They encircle the whole town and act as a natural buffer to keep people out. There are charms and spells to keep Eternity Falls hidden from human eyes, but the woods provide a barrier from wayward paranormals.”

After what felt like an eternity, we finally broke through the tree line, only to find the strand of light leading us toward the center of town.

I fixed my hair with a sigh. So, we could have taken the car after all. Was this just Selene’s way of messing with us?

Shaking my head, we pressed forward, passing all the closed shops, and heading right toward the clock tower. The light strand paused in front of it, giving us a moment to take in its ominous presence. It still pulsed crimson and had been since the night of the break-in.

Lucien stared at it, his jaw tight, then continued onward without a word.

Ricky and I shared a shrug. Hopefully, we would resolve this entire mess tonight and the clock tower would return to normal. Of course, resolving this mess meant killing Trystan, and that still didn’t sit well with me. But I couldn’t focus on that right now.

I chased after Lucien and the thread. It wound past the tower’s base and into a nearby back alley, just past the café, the library, the antique store, right toward…

My bar.

I froze. So did Lucien.

Surely, Trystan wouldn’t be here . At my bar. That was ballsy in a way I’d never imagined him. But he wasn’t in his right mind, was he?

Before I could take a step toward the door, the thread darted left and continued down the street.

I exhaled a relieved breath and followed.

It floated half a block down, away from my bar and The Crimson Veil, before spiraling to a stop in front of a squat, nondescript brick house tucked behind the hardware store.

The kind of place no one looked at twice.

A dim light flickered in the upstairs window, but that was it. No sign of life beyond that.

“Gods,” I breathed. “He’s here. Has he been here the entire time? Watching me? Who lives here?”

“Ella Black,” Ricky murmured. “She’s a witch. Nowhere near as powerful as a Ravenspell. But powerful enough to help Trystan. She mostly specializes in potions, draughts, libido boosters, that sort of thing. She’s harmless. Or so I thought.”

Lucien growled under his breath, eyes fixed on the house like he was already contemplating how to tear it down, brick by brick.

I touched his arm. “We don’t know for sure if she’s involved.”

He unleashed his stare on me. “Trystan used magic. This is a witch’s house. It’s safe to say she’s involved.”

I couldn’t argue that.

The thread wobbled one more time before it blinked out of existence, like it had never been here at all.

“Are you sure about this, Izzy?” Ricky asked. “Lucien and I can handle this. There’s no reason for you to see any of this.”

For a moment, I wavered. I could let them handle this—let them end Trystan without me.

But that didn’t feel right. I may not have loved Trystan at the end, but I had once.

I’d trusted him, built a life with him. Yes, he’d obliterated that life and showed me his true colors, but he deserved more than a brutal end by two men he’d never met.

I forced myself to swallow past the lump in my throat and shook my head. “I need to be in there. It should be me who…ends this madness.”

Ricky gave a slow nod, and if I wasn’t mistaken, a touch of admiration shone in his eyes. “Then let’s end it. Fast. So we can get back to Thorne.”

Lucien and Ricky took a collective step forward.

“Wait—wait!” I squeaked, jumping in front of them. “How about telling me the plan first?”

“I’m planning on kicking the door down and setting fire to whatever’s inside,” Lucien said, entirely too calm.

Ricky just nodded.

My wide eyes bounced between the two of them. Gods save me from testosterone-riddled men and their impatience.

“ Or ,” I said, dragging the word out, “how about we try a subtler approach? Trystan told me to come back to him, right? So how about letting me go in first? Alone. If he’s lucid, maybe I can talk him down. Get him to cooperate with us.”

“Absolutely not,” Lucien snapped. “You’re not stepping foot in there without me.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and took two deep breaths. “Lucien. If you were the one inside the house, would you know I was out here?”

Annoyance flashed in his eyes, but he bit out a breathy, “Yes.”

“Right. Because we’re all vampires here—sorry, Ricky?—”

“Don’t be sorry. Happy I’m not a bloodsucker.”

I waved his comment away. “Trystan probably heard us the second we arrived. Not to mention, there’s this whole bond thing. He knows I’m here. And he knows you two are here as well. If you bust in, all violent-like, you’ll trigger him. Let me go in and talk to him first.”

“And if he tries to kill you?”

“Then you fall back on Plan B. Kick the door down and light the place on fire, like you so desperately want to do.”

Lucien’s glare could cut glass. But eventually, he nodded. “Fine. But if he so much as lifts a finger in your direction?—”

“Kick, kick, stomp, stomp,” I said, crossing my fingers over my heart.

Lucien’s mouth gave the slightest twitch, one that had me smiling in response. I touched his hand, then smoothed down my hair and faced the house. I couldn’t help that my heart was hammering away at a mile a minute, but I could at least appear like I was calm and collected.

The porch creaked beneath my feet as I stepped up to the door. I didn’t bother knocking since I knew Trystan wouldn’t answer. He might be insane, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew Lucien and Ricky stood out here. Opening the door would be suicide.

So, I reached for the doorknob, turned it, and gave the door a gentle push. It opened with a groan, revealing nothing but darkness inside.

My heart hammered harder.

“Izzy?” Lucien murmured behind me. He could hear my pulse and smell my fear. I couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

I pushed the door open a little wider, then crossed the threshold. I’d barely taken two steps when the door swung shut behind me with a definitive click.

I whirled around and stared at it. I hadn’t touched it, yet it’d latched closed all on its own.

“Okay,” I whispered to the darkness. “That’s not unsettling, not at all.”

I turned slowly, taking in the interior. It took a beat for my night vision to adjust, but once it did, everything sharpened into grayscale. The sitting room looked disturbingly normal. A couch, a loveseat, a side table with an old phonograph, a standing lamp.

But when I clicked the switch, no light illuminated the room. Because of course. Trystan must have unplugged the lamp.

I pressed onward, past the kitchen on my right, and into the nearby hallway. The staircase sat at the end of the hall, and I paused, contemplating them. Light glowed from upstairs, which was where I suspected I’d find him.

I took another step, ready to climb those stairs, when Trystan suddenly just appeared . He stood at the base of the stairs, half in shadow, barefoot and silent.

A scream rose in my throat, one I barely managed to choke back before it tore past my lips. If I screamed, Lucien would come running.

“Trystan…” I breathed.

Though hidden in shadow, he looked just as I remembered him. The cut of his jaw. The slope of his shoulders. The curve of his mouth. But then I caught his gaze. And my heart went from a dizzying gallop to a dead stop.

His eyes were wrong . Flat. Dead. And burning with a crimson light I’d never seen before. Selene had explained the disconnect and the madness, but this…this made it all too real. Especially when his lips curled back into a smile and he bared his fangs at me, wet and glistening.

“Oh, Trystan…”

I’d done this to him.

His head cocked like a rabid dog’s. Then he stepped forward.

“Little dove,” he said.

Gods. Even his voice sounded different. Raspy, deeper, and purely terrifying.

“You found me,” he said, smiling. But that wasn’t Trystan’s smile. That was the smile of a psychopath. Selene was right. He was well and truly gone.

“You asked me to, remember?” I made sure to stay calm, so as not to upset him.

“Did I?” He cocked his head the other way. “I did, didn’t I? And you came. My sweet, precious, Isadora.”

The way he said my name made my skin crawl. There was no affection in it. Nothing that would suggest we’d spent a hundred years together. It was almost like he was reciting something he’d memorized but no longer understood.

“Where’s Ella?” I asked.

Confusion dimmed the crimson haze in his eyes, almost like he had no idea who I was asking about.

“Ella Black?” I repeated. “The witch you’ve been working with. Where is she?”

His confusion deepened. Then, a moment later, he blinked and waved a lazy hand. “She’s around.”

Vague and ominous. I didn’t like that.

“Trystan,” I said carefully. “Where is she?”

“I said she’s around ,” he snapped, a growl vibrating beneath his words. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Okay. Single-minded focus.

“You’re not well,” I told him gently. “But I can help you, if you’ll let me.” I hoped .

“I don’t need help,” he said. “I just need you .”

He closed the distance between us in a blink. I flinched before I could stop myself. He moved like a monster in a man’s skin. He clamped his hands around my arms, cold and clammy, and backed me against the wall. I hit it with a quiet thud.

He leaned down and inhaled a breath at my throat. “You’re mine.”

I didn’t correct him for fear it would set him off.

Instead, I focused on the outcome I wanted.

Selene, Lucien, Ricky…they all felt Trystan needed to die.

And I understood their logic. But standing in front of him now, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some other way I could help him. He was not in his right mind.

“Trystan, you need to stop this. You’re scaring people. You’re scaring me,” I murmured. “Let me take you out of here and bring you somewhere safe.”

He pulled back just enough to stare at me. His pupils dilated, then narrowed to slits. “You said you were mine. But then you said you weren’t mine. You broke us. Broke me .”

Panic fluttered in my chest.

“I didn’t like that,” he announced, each word pronounced carefully.

“I know,” I said softly, my spine flush against the wall.

“You ran.” His voice dropped to a guttural whisper. “You left me like I was nothing. And then my mind…my mind.” He blinked and shook his head. “It hurts. I think…I think I became this because of you .”

I didn’t speak.

“I tried to fix it,” he rasped, hands gripping my upper arms until they hurt.

“Tried to fix me . I went to Ella, but she couldn’t help.

She gave me things. Potions. Spells. Blood.

” His eyes flicked upward, distant, as though struggling to recall everything.

“I drank so much blood, kept drinking until she stopped moving, but it never tasted right. Nothing did. Not without you. But you’re here now. ”

Oh no… Ella was definitely dead. I had no doubts. If he was killing people, then his madness had progressed too far. Taking him somewhere safe wouldn’t help. Selene was right—he would break free and harm other people. The realization broke my heart. I hated him, but I didn’t wish death upon him.

“You can fix this,” he said. “You will fix this.” Death flashed in his eyes, and his hands started to shake. “You’ll come back with me. We’ll be together. And that’ll fix everything. We’ll be normal again.”

A fresh wave of pain crashed through me. We would never be normal again.

His whole body shook now. His jaw clenched so tightly, I could hear his teeth cracking. Something inside him was breaking right this second. Seeing it firsthand made me want to wrap my arms around him and sob.

“I tried to forget,” he whispered. He leaned forward, until his forehead rested on my shoulder. “I tried to move on. But I couldn’t think . Couldn’t feel . Everything hurt. But you’ll make it better now. You have to.”

Yes.

Yes, I would.

It would break me to do it, but it was the only option here. I knew it with all my heart.

“I—I can make it better,” I whispered.

His trembling stilled. He lifted his head slowly. “You can?”

My bottom lip trembled, and tears welled in my eyes. But I forced out, “I can.”

He stared at me for a long moment, studying me. Then something inside him broke. The calm, fragile veil of reason he’d been clinging to snapped like a thread under tension. His entire face twisted into a grotesque snarl, and his eyes gleamed with pure hatred.

“ Liar !” he shouted. “You’re lying!”

“Trystan—”

He shook me hard. Once. Twice. My head slammed against the wall and stars burst behind my eyes. A cry escaped before I could catch it.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he rasped. “But maybe if you bleed for me, like Ella bled for me, it’ll fix everything .”

“Trystan, no?—”

But he was beyond listening now. His lips peeled back, and before I could react, he struck like a snake, his fangs piercing my flesh.