30. CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY
T he first tendrils of dawn crept over the horizon, casting an ethereal pallor across the carnage. The metallic stench of blood hung heavy in the morning chill, mingling with the echoes of clashing silver and the cries of the fallen. Rowan could still feel the reverberations of the final, desperate strike that had put an end to her father’s tyrannical reign.
Casimir stood beside her, emanating a quiet strength as he drew closer. He pulled her into his embrace, a moment of tenderness amid the harsh reality of their victory.
“You had no choice,” he said. “He would have destroyed everything and everyone in his path. You saved us all.”
His words were meant to comfort, but they couldn’t halt the storm of emotions raging within her. Deep down, Rowan knew he was right. Her father had been a monster, a being of darkness and shadows that no amount of light could dispel. Yet the guilt of taking his life was a stain upon her soul that felt as real as the blood on her hands.
“I killed my father,” she whispered. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been searching for my identity and my family. I never imagined that as soon as I started accepting who I am, and found what I was looking for, I would be the cause of its destruction. Don’t you see, Casimir?” Her voice was strained. “ Like father, like daughter . . . he saw the same darkness within me.”
Casimir clasped her shoulders, his gaze firm. “There’s not an ounce of darkness inside you. Not even a hint of a shadow.” He caressed her face. “You’re my best friend, my love, my light, my inspiration to fight for a better world. And your family wasn’t destroyed. We’re your family—your mother . . . and me.”
His words pierced the fog of her grief, reminding her of the bond they shared—a bond strengthened by the trials they had faced together.
They also reminded her that her mother still needed her help. With a ragged breath, she rushed toward the platform where Lilith was chained.
“Mother.” Her voice broke as she fell to her knees beside Lilith. Desperation made Rowan’s breathing shallow and tight as she embraced her, searching for any sign of recognition. But Lilith’s once bright blue eyes were now dull and empty, lost in some private abyss.
Her father’s brutality had left her mother with bruises that stood out starkly against her pale skin. Rowan felt a surge of protectiveness toward her as she examined the marks.
“No one will ever hurt you again, Mother. I’ll be there to protect you and care for you from now on,” she vowed, embracing the woman who had given her life.
With a grim set to his jaw, Casimir gripped the iron chains binding Lilith to the Reaper’s toppled throne. His muscles strained against his shirt as he applied force and the chains shattered, their iron links clattering onto the platform.
Lilith slumped down as the chains fell away, and Rowan was quick to catch her, holding her close. Casimir stepped in to help, but as soon as he approached, Lilith cowered and let out a frightened whimper.
“Please, stay back.” Rowan hugged her mother tighter. “I think she’s afraid of you—afraid of vampires. It’s not you. It’s just what you represent to her.”
Casimir halted, pain flashing across his features before he masked it. “Of course. But I want to assure you that I had no idea drinking your blood would enhance my strength and abilities, or give me any type of control over you. I swear on my blood oath that I’ll never try to manipulate or control you or your necromancy in any way. And I’ll do everything in my power to help your mother, and to make amends for the pain and suffering my kind has caused.”
“I trust you,” Rowan said, her voice barely audible over the stirring of the wind. “Thank you. For everything.”
He nodded and stepped back, giving them space. “I’ll talk to Ruby and Marcus. The coven is skilled in healing and can help your mother recover. ”
Rowan’s gaze lingered on Casimir as he faded into the morning mist that clung to the blood-soaked earth. She turned back to her mother, speaking soft words of comfort that didn’t break through the fog enveloping Lilith’s mind.
Casimir returned shortly thereafter, with Ruby in tow. Ruby’s expression was stern, her eyes sharp as she swiftly assessed the situation. She knelt by Lilith’s side, gently examining her.
“We’ll need to get her to the coven,” Ruby said after a moment, her voice sounding tired and grief-stricken. “Marcus has agreed to let us use his castle. The other witches are already preparing. We have healing spells and potions. We’ll do everything we can to restore your mother.”
“Can you truly heal her?” Rowan asked. “Both physically and mentally?”
“Her body will heal, but her mind . . . it’s delicate.” Ruby reached out, gripping Rowan’s arm. “We’ll try our best. That’s all we can do.”
Rowan nodded and helped her mother to her feet. With gentle movements, Ruby guided Lilith back to the castle. Rowan’s spirits fell as she watched them leave. Casimir remained by her side, his hand ghosting over hers in a fleeting touch.
The somber atmosphere was disrupted by the appearance of a member of the Vampire Council. The towering warrior was striking, with eyes like liquid gold, mahogany-black skin, and hair as white as newly fallen snow. Walking alongside Marcus, he exuded an air of power that demanded respect.
“Vampire business.” Marcus’s amber gaze fell upon Rowan, silently signaling the need for privacy.
She tensed. Casimir placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, a silent promise that he would stay by her side despite the summons.
“You may speak in front of her,” he said firmly. “There are no secrets between us.”
The member of the Vampire Council exchanged a glance with Marcus before he acquiesced with a subtle nod. It was clear this was not the usual protocol, but Casimir’s unwavering stance left little room for disagreement. In the end, they reached a compromise by allowing Casimir to remain within sight of Rowan, but outside the range of mortal hearing.
Casimir gestured for her to remain where she was as he followed the vampires across the battlefield. The remaining Council members formed a ring around Casimir as he stood in the center. They chanted, voices resonating with an ancient energy. Rowan couldn’t hear the words, but even from afar, she could sense the weight and significance behind them. Casimir placed his hand on his heart, repeated the chant, and bowed deeply.
A shiver crept down Rowan’s spine as she watched the ceremony unfold. Casimir rose from his bow, a new resolve steeling his features as he shook hands with each member of the Council. The ritual held a significance that she couldn’t fully grasp, yet she sensed it was a pivotal moment for Casimir and their future.
As the ceremony drew to a close, the Council members dispersed like shadows retreating from the light. Their formidable steeds pawed at the ground, steam rising from their nostrils in the chilly morning air. They seemed eager to leave the carnage behind.
Casimir watched them go, an unreadable expression on his face that transformed into a self-satisfied smirk as he sauntered over to Rowan. His stride exuded confidence, like that of an alpha wolf asserting dominance. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him—his broad, muscular shoulders, his tousled dark hair, and his devastatingly handsome features.
“Care to explain the purpose of that elaborate ceremony, Your Majesty?” Rowan said. There was a hint of playfulness in her voice, despite her sorrow and exhaustion.
“Not to worry, my beloved.” The smirk never left his face as he moved closer. “I promise it’s good news, but it can wait for a better time.” He reached out, caressing her cheek as he gazed into her eyes. “For now, let’s focus on grieving for those we lost, and on healing.”
Rowan nodded, the weight of his words settling in her chest. The glimmer of hope brought on by potential good news was quickly overshadowed by the grim reality of their current situation—the ash, pain, and devastation still lingered. But Casimir’s gentle touch reminded her that amid all the destruction, there was still something solid and constant to hold on to.