Blood Bound (The Soulforged Trilogy #1)

Prologue

XAVIAN

The rain had turned the streets into a slick, indifferent mirror, reflecting the glow of lamps that buzzed overhead.

I moved through the alley off the main road, my boots silent on the wet pavement, the kind of quiet that came from years of practice I no longer bothered to count.

The city pressed in around me, all concrete and rusted metal, the air thick with the smell of exhaust and damp garbage.

Bodies hurried past on the brighter streets beyond, hunched under umbrellas or hoods, their lives a blur of routine I had long since stopped envying.

I did not belong here, in this world of fragile lights and forgotten corners, but belonging had ceased to matter. Survival was the only measure left.

The hunger stirred again, a low thrum in my veins that matched the rhythm of my pulse. Virelya hung at my side, sheathed but never truly dormant. The blade did not speak, not exactly, but it made itself known in whispers that scraped along the edges of my thoughts, urging, demanding.

Feed.

The voice was not mine, though it had woven itself so deeply into my mind that sometimes I forgot where one ended and the other began.

Tonight, the pressure was sharper than usual, a gnawing ache that spread from my chest outward, tightening my muscles until every step felt like resistance.

I had waited too long this time, pushed the interval further than was wise.

My target moved ahead, oblivious, his coat flapping in the wind as he cut through the side street toward the underpass.

I kept my distance, blending into the shadows where the buildings leaned close, their walls stained with graffiti and the slow rot of neglect.

The rain muffled sounds, turning the world into a haze of gray and black, but I could hear his footsteps splashing through puddles, the ragged draw of his breath.

He was tired, perhaps from a long day, and that would make it easier.

I felt no pity, no thrill. This was function, nothing more.

As he ducked under the overpass, the noise of distant traffic faded, replaced by the drip of water from cracked concrete above.

He stopped suddenly, fumbling in his pocket for something.

His head turned slightly, as if sensing the shift in the air, but he shook it off and kept walking.

They were like that, always dismissing the instincts that might save them. I had learned to use it against them.

I struck when he reached the narrowest point.

My approach was swift, a shadow detaching from the wall, my arm wrapping around his throat before he could cry out.

He bucked against me, stronger than he looked, his elbow driving back into my ribs with a force that might have winded a lesser man.

Pain flared, but I held fast, twisting to pin him against the cold concrete.

His hands clawed at my forearm, but I barely registered it.

Virelya was in my grip now, drawn free with a sound like silk tearing, the dark metal gleaming faintly in the dim light.

The blade's hunger surged, flooding my senses, making my vision tunnel until all I saw was the pulse in his neck, the frantic beat of life ready to be claimed.

He gasped, his eyes wide with the terror of realization.

"Please," he managed, the word choking out between struggles.

I did not respond. There was no point in words.

I drove his fate forward, the point finding the soft hollow beneath his ribs, sliding in with the ease.

I felt the essence flow through the metal, into me, a rush of cold fire that silenced the whispers for a moment, replacing them with a hollow satisfaction that was not my own.

His eyes glazed, his limbs going slack, and I lowered him to the ground, the rain pooling around us, mixing with the blood that seeped from the wound.

The kill was clean, efficient, over in seconds.

But as always, the aftermath clung like a sickness.

I straightened, wiping the blade on his coat before sheathing it, sated for the time being.

This was the cost, the part that never eased.

Each kill left me emptier, as if they carved out a little more of what remained inside me.

I leaned against the pillar, breathing through it.

The man's body lay there, eyes open to the sky, already forgotten by the world that would find him come morning.

Another statistic, another unsolved end in a city full of them.

I left him there, slipping back into the night, my path weaving through the labyrinth of backstreets toward the derelict warehouse I called home.

The city seemed quieter now, the rain a steady murmur that drowned out the distant hum of life.

The hunger had settled, the whispers muted to a low drone, but I knew it would not last. It never did.

The intervals grew shorter, the demands more insistent, and lately, the blackouts had become a thief in my own mind, stealing moments I could not afford to lose.

The warehouse loomed at the edge of the industrial sprawl, its windows boarded and broken, the chain-link fence sagging under years of neglect.

I slipped through a gap I had cut long ago, the metal scraping against my coat, and made my way inside.

The space was vast and empty, echoes amplifying the drip of water from the leaking roof.

I barred the door behind me, the sound heavy in the silence, and stripped off my sodden clothes, the fabric heavy with rain and the faint metallic tang of blood.

Naked in the chill air, I examined myself under the weak beam of a battery lantern.

The veins in my arms stood out darker than they should, threads of black tracing patterns beneath the skin, retreating slowly now that the hunger was fed.

I washed with water from a bucket, the cold biting into my skin, scrubbing until the evidence was gone.

But the real stains were deeper, in the gaps where my thoughts frayed.

I sat on the edge of the cot, blade laid across my knees, its surface smooth and unmarred, as if it had never tasted blood.

I lay back on the cot, staring at the cracked ceiling, willing sleep to come. The whispers had quieted, but the emptiness they left was almost worse, a void that echoed with the man I had been. Hours passed, or perhaps minutes; time blurred in the dimness.

And then, something shifted.

Virelya's presence altered, not with the usual hunger, but with a stillness I had never felt before.

The thrum in my veins paused, attentive, as if the blade had caught a scent on the wind. A pull tugged at me, faint but insistent, drawing my awareness outward, toward the heart of the city.

It was not the call of prey, not the demand for blood. This was different, a recognition that set my nerves on edge…

I sat up, hand closing around the hilt, the metal cool under my fingers. The silence held, profound and unnatural, and for the first time in years, the constant pressure eased just enough to breathe.

I did not understand it. Trap or hallucination, it made no difference; ignoring it felt like courting madness.

The pull strengthened, a thread pulling me toward whatever waited in the night.

I dressed quickly, the rain still falling outside, and stepped back into the darkness.

Virelya hung at my side, alert now, and I followed where it led.