Chapter 25
Cristian
Nadia slept.
I did not.
I sat beside her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. Her breath had steadied, but it was still too shallow for my liking. Her skin held less color than it should. Every instinct I had—every instinct I wished I did not possess—kept insisting she was slipping through my fingers.
I could not close my eyes. If I did, I feared she would vanish.
Eventually, I forced myself to stand and leave her. I needed to fix this before it grew beyond repair.
Ezra waited for me downstairs, hunched over his machine, fingers flying with frantic precision. The blue glow from his screen cast unsettling shadows on his face.
“We’re running out of time,” he muttered as soon as I entered. His voice was flat, but the panic beneath it pulsed like static. “I’ve tried three reversal patches. None of them stabilized her frequency.”
“She is worse,” I said.
He didn’t look up. “I know.”
I hated that he sounded apologetic. Hated that a man who irritated me to the point of bloodlust was the only person in this century who understood the sorcery of what was killing her.
Killing her.
I swallowed the thought before it could fully form.
“We are missing something,” I said, pacing the length of the room. “Ambrosia hinted as much.”
“At the ball?”
“Yes.”
“But what did she say?”
“A threat disguised as poetry.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “She spoke of flames. Mortality. Tethers fading.”
Ezra’s eyes widened. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”
“I did not realize what it meant.” My jaw tightened. “I realize it now.”
He shoved both hands through his hair. “Then you need to talk to her.”
“Correct,” I said. “We do need to talk to her.”
His head snapped up. “You mean, in person? At the manor? Tonight?”
“Yes.”
He stared at me like I’d suggested we cuddle inside a volcano.
“Cristian,” he said slowly, “You’re playing exactly into what they want. And I hate that house. I—I really don’t want to go back.”
“I do not care about your preferences,” I replied. “I need a second set of ears. Mine are… compromised.”
“You mean emotionally compromised,” he said, frowning.
“I mean I trust no one,” I corrected. “Except perhaps her.” I nodded toward the room upstairs where Nadia slept. “And she is dying.”
Ezra’s expression softened for half a breath before he wiped it away.
He closed the laptop, but his fingers trembled. “Fine. I’ll go. I’ll bring my equipment.”
“What equipment?”
“My laptop.” He patted the device like a pet. “I have each of their magical frequencies stored. If I’m close enough, I can tell exactly where Ambrosia is in the manor. Think of it like supernatural radar.”
I didn’t know what radar was. I didn’t care. “Good.”
I had walked in and out of that dreadful place several times without resistance, but now wasn’t the time for taking chances. The court was unpredictable.
He hesitated, then added, “But Cristian—if you want a chance at confronting her, you need to be strong. Really strong. You haven’t fed in days.”
My jaw flexed. “I will not feed from Nadia again until I fully understand what this bond is doing to her.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, “except you’re going to pass out on the front lawn of a vampire mansion from the pull of the bond unless you’re at full charge.”
“I will manage.”
“You won’t.” He stood and rolled up his sleeve with a theatrical sigh. “Take it. Don’t make this weird.”
I stared at him. “You realize I could kill you.”
“But you won’t. You need me,” he said, extending his wrist. “And anyway, if you pass out, I’m dead too. So. Circle of life, and all that.”
“I hate you,” I muttered.
“Yeah, yeah. Drink me and let’s go.”
I grasped his wrist. Human pulse. Human warmth. Human sarcasm. It was not appealing, but it would sustain me long enough to protect him and get information from Ambrosia.
He looked away as my fangs descended.
“This is so gross.” He groaned. “Don’t make eye contact while you’re doing it. I swear, Cristian, don’t—”
I fed carefully, taking no more than I needed. No less than what would keep him standing.
When I withdrew, Ezra swayed.
“You’re good at that,” he said breathlessly. “Like… disturbingly good. Do you practice on lemons or something?”
I wiped my mouth. “Do not speak.”
He nodded once, then grabbed his laptop case. “Right. Ambrosia. Midnight house call. Fantastic. Let’s go before my survival instincts kick in again.”
I turned toward the door, but before I stepped out, I cast one last look upstairs.
Toward Nadia.
Toward the bed where she slept too quietly.
Toward the life I refused to lose.
Ambrosia had answers. I would tear them out of her.
“Cristian?” Ezra said behind me. “You ready?”
No.
“Yes.”
I pushed open the door and let the night swallow us whole.
Ezra guided me through the dark streets with nervous efficiency, clutching his laptop bag against his chest. The mansion before us was gaudy even by the Sovereign Court’s standards, its windows lit in uneven patches like diseased eyes.
The moment my feet hit the property line, the bond pulled sharply inside my chest.
Too far.
I clenched my jaw. “We do not stay long.”
Ezra nodded quickly. “Right. Because the more distance, the more drain. Nadia’s probably tossing and turning already.”
Something cold and vicious flashed through me. “Precisely.”
He propped his laptop on a low wall, fingers flying over the keys. “Okay… Ambrosia is on the second floor. In the”—he grimaced—“boudoir.”
Of course she’d named it that.
“And Hammond?” I asked.
Ezra squinted at the screen. “Living quarters. Middle of the house. So, uh… front door is a no. Too much traffic.”
“Another way in?”
“Well, there’s a back staircase. But the door is locked and reinforced.”
“I can handle reinforced.”
He gestured dramatically. “After you.”
We made our way around to the back. When we reached the door, I studied it for a second, then kicked beneath the lock. The frame splintered beneath the impact, wood cracking like thin bone.
Ezra winced. “I can’t say I had planned on committing crimes tonight.”
“We are liberating information,” I said. “Not committing crimes.”
“That’s what criminals say.”
I didn’t dignify that with an answer. We slipped through the kitchen—empty, except for an abandoned goblet and a lingering scent of arrogance—and climbed the back staircase.
Ambrosia’s scent reached me first. Flowers over rot. Perfume and hunger intertwined.
Her door was half-open.
She stood before a vanity, draped in a sheer nightgown the color of bruised gold. She misted perfume onto her neck with a theatrical flourish.
The moment she saw me, her smile turned feral.
“Cristian,” she purred, clasping her hands in delighted applause. “I just knew you’d come.”
Her gaze flicked to Ezra. She wrinkled her nose. “And… who is that?”
Ezra lifted a timid hand. “Uh, I’m Ezra. I worked here for, like, five years.”
She stared at him blankly, then turned away without a single flicker of recognition. She glided toward me, reaching for my chest.
I swatted her hand aside.
She pouted. “You used to let me touch you.”
“You misremember,” I said. “I never allowed such things.”
She laughed. The sound was meant to be seductive, but it irked me. “Semantics, love.”
“I am not your love.”
“You could be.” She stepped closer.
I let her get close enough to think she held power, then I caught her by the throat.
Her breath hitched in a sound that was somewhere between pleasure and surprise. “Oh… Cristian. You know I always liked when—”
“Enough.” My grip tightened. “You whispered something at the ball. You will repeat it. Now.”
She dragged in air, smiling even as her pulse spiked beneath my fingers. “I say many things at parties. I was drunk. You know how I get—”
I squeezed harder, lifting her an inch off the floor.
“I need the truth,” I said softly. “Or I will remove your head from your shoulders. Choose.”
She clawed at my wrist—not to escape, but in a pathetic attempt at flirtation.
“You won’t kill me,” she choked out. “You never—”
“Try me.”
Her expression shifted—finally—toward something resembling fear.
“Fine,” she rasped. I released her and she staggered back, rubbing at her neck. “Ask.”
“The bond,” I said. “What do you know?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re still on that? So much fuss over one mortal. Humans are too fragile for stasis awakenings. The bond pulls too greedily. They wither. I don’t like wasting food.”
Behind me, Ezra whispered, “Oh my god.”
My fists curled.
“How do you break it?” I demanded.
She blinked innocently. “Break it? Darling, why would I know—”
I moved faster this time, my fingers curling around her throat again.
She gasped. “I don’t know! I swear it! But—” She lifted a trembling finger. “Give me time. Hammond knows something. He always keeps the best secrets. I’ll coax it out of him.”
Snarling, I released her.
“Coax,” Ezra muttered. “That’s one word for it.”
Ambrosia ignored him. She circled me slowly, eyes trailing over every line of my body with a hunger that might have once flattered me.
“And what,” she whispered, reaching for me again, “do I get in return…?”
I caught her wrist mid-air. “To live.”
Her smile faltered.
“You have twenty-four hours,” I said. “If I must return here, I will kill every living creature in this house.”
Her pupils dilated, and the scent of her fear sharpened.
“Cristian,” she breathed, half-terrified, half-aroused. “You are magnificent when you’re cruel.”
I dropped her wrist. “Twenty-four hours.”
Then I turned to Ezra. “We are done here.”
He nodded vigorously. “Yes—God, yes—we are done. Let’s go before she starts monologuing.”
We left through the ruined door, into the cold night air.
For a moment, I pretended the bond inside my chest was merely loud with fury, not pulsing weaker, not fraying, not tugging with the unmistakable echo of Nadia’s dwindling strength.
The night air was thick with moisture. Ezra kept pace beside me, his laptop hugged to his chest like a shield. The farther we walked from the Sovereign Court’s gaudy estate, the more the bond inside my chest thrummed—frantic, uneven. Desperate for my proximity.
I lengthened my stride.
Ezra jogged to keep up. “Cristian?”
I ignored him. Thinking required distance and silence.
“Cristian,” he tried again, voice thinner this time. “I’m scared for Nadia.”
I stopped walking.
He swallowed hard. “I really fucked up. I made the bond worse. I didn’t mean to. I thought if I analyzed the magical frequency, I could reverse it. Or isolate the drain. Or figure out a workaround.” His voice cracked. “I was trying to help. I swear I was trying to help.”
He wasn’t lying. I would have heard his lie in his pulse.
I turned fully to face him. Ezra didn’t step back. He didn’t run. He didn’t flinch. He just looked at me like he expected to be punished.
“Ezra,” I said quietly.
His breath caught.
“Anyone who does not fail from time to time is not doing anything.”
He blinked rapidly. “What?”
“You were trying to save her. You acted out of desperation and hope, not cruelty.” I held his gaze. “For that, I am grateful to you.”
Ezra’s mouth fell open.
I stepped closer. “Help me save her.”
For the first time since I’d met him, Ezra looked genuinely moved. His eyes shone with something raw and human.
He scrubbed at his face. “I–I will. I promise. Whatever you need.”
I nodded once. “Good.”
We continued walking in silence.
The front door creaked softly as I pushed it open. The house was still. Too still. Lena was asleep upstairs. Ezra went to the kitchen, set up his laptop, and started typing furiously.
I went straight to Nadia’s room.
Nadia lay curled beneath the blankets, one hand tucked under her cheek, breathing shallowly. Her hair spilled across the pillow in unruly waves, and the sight nearly broke me. It shattered the remaining fragments of my restraints.
I removed my shoes and my jacket, then got into the bed beside her. She stirred faintly as I slid an arm around her waist and pulled her back against me. My body curved around hers effortlessly, like I had been made to fit this shape, this woman.
Her scent filled my lungs as her warmth bled into my chest. The bond steadied the instant I touched her, strength flowing back into me as if she were sunlight and I were starved of it.
I rested my forehead between her shoulder blades. I had not known this feeling could exist. Not in my life. Not for someone like me.
Love.
I had thought it impossible.
And yet the truth of it consumed me. Every breath she took, every fragile heartbeat, was a vow I would keep.
She shifted in her sleep, mumbling something, and snuggled closer.
My chest ached with something I had no name for.
“I am yours,” I whispered into the hollow of her throat, my voice so soft even I almost didn’t hear it.
I held her through the night, listening to her heartbeat until dawn threatened the horizon, praying to gods I no longer believed in that she would live long enough to hear me say it again when she was awake.