Chapter Sixteen
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Vex
The clubhouse erupts the moment we walk through the door.
Brothers swarm from every direction, voices overlapping in a barrage of questions and demands. Blade stands at the center of it all, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone. Prophet hovers near, rosary beads wrapped around one white-knuckled fist.
Tessa’s hand tightens in mine. Through the bond, I feel her exhaustion, her fear, the lingering echo of the devourer’s whispers still clawing at the edges of her mind. She’s holding herself together through sheer force of will, but it won’t last much longer.
“Enough!” Blade’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Vex, Tessa, Prophet, sit. Everyone else, out.”
The room empties reluctantly, brothers casting worried glances at Tessa as they file out.
Chrome lingers by the door, his sharp vision focuses on the mark barely visible beneath her collar.
She meets his gaze steadily, chin raised, and something passes between them, respect, maybe, or recognition of the battle she’s fighting.
Scattered across the table, we hold church at, eat our meal sat are maps . Some are marked with red crosses and I assume it’s where attacks have occurred. There are too many for a single night.
“Report,” Blade says, dropping into his chair.
“It’s escalating.” Prophet spreads his hands over the central map, and I watch symbols appear in golden light wherever his fingers touch.
“Seventeen separate incidents in the last six hours. Gas station. Diner. Three residential homes. Elementary school, thank God it was empty. The pattern is clear: it’s targeting population centers, places where fear spreads fastest.”
“Casualties?” My voice comes out rougher than intended.
“Two dead. Sixteen injured. Could have been worse if we hadn’t mobilized fast.” Prophet’s jaw clenches. “But we can’t keep playing defense. Every hour we wait, it gets stronger.”
Blade leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Options?”
“Run.” Fury appears in the doorway, ignoring the closed-door policy. Heat shimmers around him, melting frost that’s crept along the walls. “Take Tessa somewhere far away and hope the thing loses interest.”
“It won’t.” Tessa’s voice is quiet but firm. She steps away from me, moving to the map, and I hate the distance even though it’s barely three feet. “The mark connects us. Distance doesn’t matter. It will follow me anywhere, and it will burn through anyone in its path to get to me.”
“We give it what it wants,” Rooster suggests from behind Fury. “Controlled environment. Our terms. We lure it out and kill it.”
“You can’t kill it,” Prophet says. “Not in any conventional sense. It’s not corporeal. It’s a primordial force given consciousness and hunger. The original binding didn’t kill it, they locked it away, buried it so deep it took centuries for the seal to weaken.”
“Then we reseal it,” Blade says.
“The original seal required three sacrifices: vampire, shifter, and warden. All willingly given, all dying in the process.” Prophet’s eyes find Tessa.
“The warden especially. Her bloodline was bound to the seal, became part of it. It’s why the devourer needs her, she’s the key to breaking what her ancestors created. ”
Silence settles over the room, heavy and suffocating.
“No.” The word comes out of me before I can stop it. “Absolutely not.”
“We’re not sacrificing her.” Blade’s tone brooks no argument. “Find another way.”
“There might be one.” Prophet pulls out an ancient leather journal, pages yellow and brittle. “The original binding was done out of desperation, without full understanding of the forces at play. But what if we don’t reseal it? What if we redirect it?”
“Redirect a primordial force of ice and hunger?” Fury snorts. “To where, exactly?”
“Back to the void it came from.” Prophet traces symbols in the air, and they hang there, glowing. “The seal site is a thin place, a location where the barrier between worlds is weakest. That’s why they chose it. If we can open a controlled tear, we might be able to force it through.”
“Might?” I repeat.
“The theory is sound. The execution...” He trails off, spreading his hands. “It’s never been attempted.”
Tessa moves closer to the map, studying the marks Prophet has made. Her finger traces a line to a location deep in the wilderness, where mountains meet frozen tundra.
“This is where it has to happen,” she says. Not a question.
“Yes. The original seal site. It’s the only place where the boundaries are weak enough.” Prophet meets her eyes. “But Tessa, you need to understand—”
“I’ll do it.”
Three words. Delivered with such quiet certainty that the room goes silent.
“No,” I say again, this time with more force.
She turns to me, and the look in her eyes stops my protest cold. “This is my choice, Vex.”
“It’s suicide.”
“It’s survival.” She moves toward me, and even though I’m furious, even though every instinct screams to lock her away somewhere safe, I can’t stop myself from reaching for her.
“If we do nothing, that thing will keep attacking until everyone I care about is dead. If I run, it follows, and more innocent people die. The only option is to face it. On our terms. At the seal site.”
“She’s right.” Blade stands, rolling his shoulders. “We’ve been on defense since this started. Time to take the fight to it.”
“Using her as bait,” I snarl.
“Using me as bait,” Tessa corrects. “With the entire club backing me up. With Prophet’s ritual. With you by my side.” Her hand finds my chest, right over where a heartbeat should be. “I’m not asking permission. I’m telling you what’s going to happen.”
The bond flares between us, and I feel everything she’s feeling, determination laced with terror, resolve wrapped in desperation, and underneath it all, a core of steel I hadn’t fully appreciated until this moment.
She’s not the frightened woman who stumbled into our world weeks ago. She’s a warrior choosing her battlefield.
“Does he trust her strength or not?” Prophet’s voice is soft, quoting Tessa’s earlier challenge.
I glance at him and freeze.
For a split second, something dark flickers over his shoulder. A smear of shadow, too thick, too solid to be a trick of the firelight. It pulses once, like it’s alive.
I blink.
It’s gone.
Prophet stands exactly as he was, calm, steady, nothing out of place. With everything going on, marks, bonds, danger piling up, it must’ve been my imagination. Or stress. Or both.
I tear my gaze away and look at Tessa instead. She’s terrified, but she’s also ready. More than ready. She’s been preparing for this since the moment the mark appeared on her shoulder.
“Fine.” The word tastes bitter. “But we do this my way. Maximum protection. Every advantage we can get.”
“Agreed.” Blade is already pulling out radio equipment. “Fury, gather the most capable brothers. Rooster, prep the bikes and check all weapons. Prophet, you’ll ride with me, I want the ritual planned down to the second.”
“When?” Tessa asks.
“Dawn tomorrow.” Blade meets her gaze. “Gives us time to prepare and hits the seal site during optimal conditions. Prophet?”
“Dawn works. The boundary will be thinnest then, weakened by the transition between night and day.” He pauses. “We’ll need time to set up wards, prepare the ritual space. We should leave at midnight.”
“Then we have twelve hours.” Blade claps his hands once. “Let’s make them count. Dismissed.”
The others file out, but Prophet lingers, his eyes on me.
“You know what you need to do,” he says quietly.
“Don’t.”
“The bond between you is strong, but it could be stronger. Strong enough to anchor her when the devourer tries to take her. Strong enough to pull her back if she slips.” His hand grips my shoulder. “Feed from her, Vex. Deepen the connection. Give her every advantage.”
“Feeding from her could kill her.”
“So could facing that creature with half a bond.” He squeezes once, then releases me. “Make the choice while you still have one to make.”
Then he’s gone, and it’s me and Tessa alone in the war room.
She’s studying the map, memorizing the route, the terrain, the location where we’re going to make our stand. Her shoulders are tense, her breathing carefully controlled, and through the bond I feel the war raging inside her.
“Tessa.”
She turns, and the vulnerability in her expression nearly undoes me.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
Three steps, and I have her in my arms. She melts against me, face pressed to my chest, and I feel her shoulders shake with silent sobs she’s been holding back since we left the cabin.
“I know.”
“What if I can’t do this? What if I’m not strong enough?”
“You are.” My hand tangles in her hair, holding her close. “You’ve been strong enough this whole time. You survived the marking, the attacks, the devourer invading your mind. You’re still standing. Still fighting.”
“Because of you.” She pulls back enough to look up at me. “Because of the bond. Because you keep pulling me back.”
“Then I’ll keep pulling. Every single time. As many times as it takes.”
Her hand comes up to my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone. “Prophet told you, didn’t he? About feeding from me.”
“He suggested it.”
“And you haven’t because you’re worried it will hurt me.”
“Because it will hurt you. The bond, the taking—it’s dangerous, Tessa. More dangerous than you understand.”
“Then make me understand.” Her eyes are fierce now, tears forgotten. “Tell me what happens if you feed from me before this battle.”
I close my eyes, not wanting to see her face when I explain.
“The bond will deepen. You’ll gain some of my strength, my speed, my resilience.
I’ll be able to track you anywhere, feel everything you feel with perfect clarity.
If the devourer tries to take you, I’ll be able to pull you back with more force. ”
“That sounds good.”