25. Chapter 25
25
Chapter 25
Adar
Something stirred in the woods.
I froze, my hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of my sword. My breath fogged in the crisp air, the only sound the crunching of leaves beneath my boots. My gaze fixed on the shadows between the trees, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw movement—a shape, dark and swift, slipping deeper into the forest.
“Delvaux!” The gruff voice of my superior snapped me back to the present. He crouched near the blood-stained ground, his weathered face etched with suspicion as he gestured for me to come closer. He’d insisted on reviewing the scene himself, muttering something about “missing pieces.”
I shook off the lingering unease and strode back to him, forcing my focus to return to the task at hand. The clearing reeked of death, the metallic tang of blood lingering even though the bodies had been removed. Dark stains marred the ground where the soldiers had fallen, the churned-up earth telling a grim story.
“Look at this,” my superior muttered, his calloused fingers pointing to the disturbed ground near one of the former bodies. The churned ground was clawed and torn, as though something had fought violently for survival. “There was a fight here. Not just any fight—whoever did this was quick. Precise.”
I crouched beside him, my eyes scanning the area. The patterns in the ground painted a vivid picture: a struggle, brief but brutal. Deep gouges marred the dirt, and patches of dried blood shimmered faintly in the weak sunlight. It was clear that this was no ordinary attack.
My mind flickered back to a few nights ago—the initial search.
Three soldiers had gone missing during a routine sweep, and their silence had been enough to send a ripple of unease through the Legion.
We found the first signs of a struggle not long after entering the area they were designated to patrol that night. The ground was churned and bloodied, faint impressions of footprints in the dirt. A Legion cloak laid abandoned at the base of a tree darkened by dried blood.
“Spread out,” I’d ordered, the wind biting at my face as the patrol fanned into the trees.
My group was the one that found them. Two soldiers fallen close to each other, one with one of our swords embedded in his leg, both gashed deeply and covered in blood. Was this some sort of ambush? Did it have to do with our coven? Our men in the coven are trained, but Papa would have found a way to send me a message if it had to do with the coven so I could ensure no one would suspect us.
“The last one is over here!”
I turned to the soldier’s direction but froze in my tracks when I saw who it was.
There, with no gash marks, no sign of struggle, lay Rhydian. My breath caught in my chest, tightening like a vise as I took in his face. His once vibrant, full-of-life expression was now hollow, his skin pale as ash. No one told me he was one of the missing soldiers. No one warned me what I was fucking walking into.
My hands trembled as I crouched next to him, my gaze fixed on the puncture wounds on his neck. A vampire had been here. And Rhydian was the only one bitten.
The realization hit me like a blow, and anger surged through me, hot and consuming. He didn’t even want to join the Legion. I remembered his hesitation, the way he laughed nervously whenever we sparred, always saying he’d rather be hunting or working the fields. He wasn’t meant for this life. He wasn’t meant to die here.
I wasn’t there. I didn’t protect him. What kind of friend— what kind of soldier —was I?
A vampire that fought the first two with a sword? A vampire that managed to restrain himself from feeding despite all the bloodshed? It didn’t make any sense.
Unless . . . he wasn’t alone.
The thought twisted like a knife in my gut. Rhydian had no chance, no way to defend himself against something like this. And I hadn’t been there to protect him.
“Adar!” One of the men’s voices broke through my haze, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the blood-soaked ground. Anger and guilt twisted in my chest like a blade. Why had he been bitten while the others seemed to have fought? Why him?
“Sir!” The voice came again, sharp and urgent, pulling me back to reality. I clenched my fists, my determination hardening. Whoever had done this would pay.
“Delvaux?” My superior’s voice dragged me back to the present. He was still crouched near the blood-stained ground, his sharp eyes scanning for any missed detail.
“Do you think they’re still nearby?” I asked, glancing back toward the treeline, my grip tightening on my sword.
The older man followed my gaze, his expression hardening. “If they are, they’ll regret sticking around.”
***
My superior gave me leave for the night, knowing how close we were to my family’s home. I trudged up the steps, knocking the mud off of my boots before pushing the wooden door open. Mama dropped the pot on the counter when she saw me.
“Adar! What a wonderful surprise,” she said as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Wrapped in her small frame, I felt the first bit of relief I’d had in days. Papa stood and placed a hand on my shoulder. I glanced at him to see his forehead creased. He knew better than to think I was just home for a friendly visit.
Mama pulled away and looked between the two of us. Her touch lingered on my arm for a moment longer than usual, as if she could sense the weight pressing down on me. The warmth of her embrace still clung to me, a fragile barrier against the cold that seemed to have seeped into my bones over the past few days. It was the first moment of solace I’d felt in weeks, a flicker of something resembling peace. But it was fleeting, and I knew better than to hold onto it for long.
“We can talk about it later.” I nodded to Papa. “Where’s Bronwen?”
“Winnie!” Mama yelled down the hall.
As she emerged, I couldn’t stop my eyes from scanning her. My gaze softened for only a moment before concern overtook me. Her vibrant green eyes, mirrors of my own, were clouded with dark circles. Her usually radiant complexion was pallid, her cheekbones sharper than I remembered. I straightened, my jaw tightening, a hard line forming on my lips as I tried to tamp down the growing knot of worry in my chest.
“You look like shit.”
Fuck, why did I say it like that?
Bronwen raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, you look as charming as ever, brother,” she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Glad to see your time away hasn’t softened your sharp tongue.”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m serious, B. You look . . . worn down.”
“Gee, thanks,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Maybe I should’ve taken beauty tips from the Legion. You all seem to thrive on sleepless nights and bad lighting.”
I couldn’t help the exasperated groan that escaped me. “Can you, for once, take something seriously? You’re clearly not taking care of yourself.” I turned to my parents. “I’ve been gone for a few weeks and the two of you let this happen to her?”
I walked to Bronwen. “Have you slept? Have you eaten?”
Her gaze narrowed, and she stepped closer, her chin tilted defiantly. “And where were you, Adar? Off playing soldier while the rest of us are here, keeping everything from falling apart? Don’t lecture me about responsibility.”
The tension between us crackled like a live wire, but before I could fire back, Papa’s calm yet firm voice cut through. “Enough, both of you. This is not how we greet each other after weeks apart.”
Bronwen turned away, her jaw set tightly. I felt a pang of guilt gnaw at me, but I buried it beneath my frustration.
This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.