Chapter 7 A Bloodline Revealed

The catacombs beneath Veyruhn swallowed Elian whole, their winding passages twisting like the veins of some ancient beast. The air hung thick with the metallic tang of old blood and wet stone, each breath coating her tongue with the taste of rust and forgotten things. Her bare feet slipped on damp moss as she ran, the pendant fused to her chest pulsing like a second heartbeat, its silver tendrils burning where they burrowed beneath her skin.

The whispers had started the moment she'd fled the museum-voices that weren't hers, memories that didn't belong to her, all clamoring for attention in her skull.

"You cannot hide from me, little queen."

Raelith's voice slithered through the darkness, closer than it had been moments before. It resonated in her bones, vibrating through the marrow like the aftershock of a tolling bell. Elian pressed herself against the rough-hewn wall, her chest heaving as she tried to quiet her breathing. The torchlight from the museum above had long since faded, leaving only the faint bioluminescent glow of strange fungi clinging to the stones-pale blue and sickly green, their light just enough to make the shadows dance.

She could still see his face when she closed her eyes-the way Raelith had looked at her when the stone cracked away from his form. That first unguarded moment of awakening, when his midnight-blue eyes had locked onto hers with a recognition that chilled her blood. Then the shift-the way his perfect features had twisted with something between rage and longing before settling into cold calculation.

A skittering sound echoed from the tunnel ahead. Elian froze, her fingers digging into the uneven stone behind her. The pendant flared hot against her sternum, its pulse quickening.

"There you are."

The words brushed against the nape of her neck like the touch of cold fingers. Elian whirled, but the corridor behind stood empty. Then-movement. A shadow detached itself from the wall, resolving into the tall, elegant form of Raelith. He moved like liquid darkness given shape, his long coat whispering against the stones as he stepped forward.

She didn't have time to scream.

One moment she stood pressed against the wall, the next Raelith had her pinned, his cold fingers wrapping around her throat with terrifying gentleness. He crowded her against the unyielding stone, his body pressing along the length of hers. Up close, he was both beautiful and terrible-his face carved from moonlight and sharp angles, his eyes endless pools of midnight blue that seemed to swallow what little light existed in the catacombs. His lips parted slightly, revealing the glint of elongated canines.

"Did you truly think you could run?" His breath smelled of winter air and something faintly metallic. "That you could escape what you are?"

Elian struggled, her nails scraping uselessly against his wrists. The skin there felt like marble-cold and unyielding. "I don't know what you're talking about!" The words came out choked, her airway constricted by his grip.

His fingers tightened fractionally. "Liar."

Then his free hand pressed flat against her sternum, right over the pulsating pendant. White-hot pain lanced through her-

-and the world dissolved into memory.

Firelight. The scent of beeswax and dried roses. A bedchamber draped in black silk that shimmered like oil in the candlelight. Herself-no, not herself, never herself-standing before an ornate mirror in a wedding gown the color of freshly spilled blood. The bodice was embroidered with silver thread in patterns that matched the runes now burned into Elian's skin, the fabric so tight it stole her breath.

Seraphina.

Behind the reflection, Raelith's hands slid over her shoulders, his lips brushing the curve of her neck where the gown dipped low. In the mirror, his face was younger, softer-the sharp edges of cruelty not yet fully formed.

"After tonight," he murmured against her skin, "none will dare oppose us."

In the glass, Seraphina's reflection smiled-a slow, secret thing that didn't reach her eyes. Her fingers drifted absently to the dagger hidden in the folds of her skirts-its blade etched with the same symbols that now marked Elian's flesh.

"After tonight," she whispered back, "you'll be more than a king."

Then-

-the memory shattered as Elian wrenched free with a gasp, her back slamming against the opposite wall of the catacomb. Her chest heaved, the pendant burning like a brand against her skin.

Raelith still stood where she'd left him, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Now you see," he said softly. "Now you know."

Elian pressed a shaking hand to her temple. The remnants of Seraphina's memory clung to her like cobwebs-the weight of the wedding gown, the cool hilt of the dagger, the way her-Seraphina's-heart had pounded with something that wasn't quite fear. "That wasn't me," she whispered, but the words rang hollow even to her own ears.

"No?" Raelith took a step forward, his movements liquid and predatory. "Then why does your blood sing to mine? Why do the runes answer to your touch?" Another step. The temperature in the tunnel dropped sharply, their breath fogging in the suddenly frigid air. "Why do I feel you in every shadow, every reflection?"

She had no answer. The pendant throbbed in time with her racing heart, its silver threads pulsing where they disappeared beneath her skin.

A whimper broke the silence.

Elian turned her head-and froze.

Mira and Jason stood at the mouth of the corridor, their faces pale with horror. Jason held a rusted iron bar like a weapon, his knuckles white around its length. Mira's hands covered her mouth, her eyes wide and glistening in the fungal light.

"Elian," Mira whispered, the word trembling in the air between them. "What... what is that?"

Raelith's grip on Elian loosened slightly. His gaze flicked to the newcomers, then back to her, one eyebrow arching. "You brought snacks."

Before she could react, he was gone-a blur of motion almost too fast to follow. One moment he stood before her, the next Jason was on the ground, his iron bar skittering across the stone with a metallic clang. Raelith loomed over him, one foot planted on Jason's chest, his fangs glinting as he bared them in something too sharp to be a smile.

"NO!"

Elian didn't think. She lunged, her body moving without conscious command. Power surged through her-hot and bright and terrifying-the runes on her skin igniting with crimson light that cast grotesque shadows on the tunnel walls. The air itself seemed to tremble as she shoved Raelith with both hands-

And he moved.

Not just stumbled-flew, crashing into the far wall hard enough to crack stone. Dust rained from the ceiling as he impacted, his coat flaring around him like the wings of some great bird of prey.

Silence.

Then Raelith laughed-a rich, dark sound that echoed through the catacombs. He straightened slowly, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeves.

"There she is," he murmured, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "The last daughter of Seraphina." His smile was a blade in the dark. "My queen."

Mira made a small, broken sound. Jason scrambled to his feet, his eyes wild as they darted between Elian and the vampire. "Elian," he gasped, his voice raw with panic and pain. "What the hell is happening?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came. Because the truth was worse than they could imagine.

She wasn't just Elian anymore.

The memories, the whispers, the way the town had reacted to her presence-it all made a terrible kind of sense now. The pendant's weight against her sternum, the runes that glowed beneath her skin, the power that had answered her fury without thought or training.

Some deep, hidden part of her had known all along.

And the worst part?

When Raelith looked at her with those endless blue eyes, some equally hidden part of her wanted to step into his embrace rather than run from it.