Chapter 4 004

The dagger hovered over her wrist, its obsidian edge trembling in the priest's gnarled hand. Moonlight filtered through the cracked stone above, falling in silver shafts onto the floor of the chamber like pieces of broken heaven.

Evelina didn't flinch. She couldn't afford to.

The pain hadn't started yet, but her body already braced for it-every nerve wound tight, breath shallow. The mark on her wrist throbbed, alive with heat and power. Not just Thorne's magic. Now it pulsed with something darker, deeper. Lucien's tether. A second heartbeat that didn't belong to her and yet somehow did.

Lucien stood behind her, silent, unreadable.

"You must understand," the priest said, his pale eyes gleaming in the low candlelight, "this ritual does not simply sever. It awakens. Once we begin, you will see things buried in blood and memory. Things your ancestors sealed away."

Evelina nodded once. "I'm ready."

Lucien didn't speak, but she felt the tension in him like static. He hadn't touched her again, not since the priest revealed what they'd accidentally bound between them. But she could feel his presence behind her, a gravity that tugged at her bones. Whatever had happened when their blood touched-it wasn't nothing.

It was fate, maybe. Or a mistake.

The priest dipped the blade in a bowl of black liquid-thick, tar-like. Evelina caught a whiff of something ancient. Not rot. Not decay. Time.

He began to chant in that strange, guttural tongue again. The flames around them guttered, bending inward as if the air had turned heavy. Dense. Breathing.

Evelina's skin prickled. The moment the dagger touched the mark, white-hot pain seared through her wrist, slicing down her arm and into her chest like lightning. She gasped, clutching the altar for balance.

But she didn't scream.

She saw-

Her mother, kneeling before a stone altar, whispering a prayer in a forgotten tongue.

Her uncle, sealing the contract with Thorne, a sly grin hiding the tremor in his hands.

A young Evelina, asleep as shadows circled her cradle.

The first Hart-Elandra-drawing blood from her own chest to feed a dying vampire, whispering, "Let this seal bind life and death in balance."

The vow. Passed through blood. From mother to daughter. Line to line. She was never meant to be just a bride. She was a vessel. A lock.

Until someone broke her open.

Her knees buckled, but Lucien caught her before she hit the ground. She wasn't sure when he'd moved-just that his arms were around her, strong and cool and shaking ever so slightly.

The priest spoke one final word, and the sigil on Evelina's wrist erupted in crimson light before vanishing-burned into the air like smoke before fading completely.

Then-silence.

No more pulsing. No more mark.

The contract was broken.

But the ache in her chest remained. A pull not toward Thorne, but toward something older. Closer.

She looked up at Lucien.

And knew.

She was bound to him now. Not fully. Not yet. But something had awakened in the blood between them. It shimmered in the space where their skin almost touched, a tether like spun glass-delicate, unseen, unbreakable.

The priest stepped back, his face lined with exhaustion. "The vow is severed. The blood no longer answers Thorne's call."

Evelina forced herself upright. "Thank you."

"There is a cost," the priest said, eyes darkening. "The vow held more than just a claim. It kept balance. It held something back. Something you've now unchained."

Lucien's jaw tightened. "What did she release?"

The priest looked at Evelina, not Lucien. "You will find out. Soon."

He turned and disappeared into the shadows, robes trailing like mist.

Evelina leaned against the altar, shaking. "It's done."

Lucien didn't answer. His eyes were still on her wrist-now bare. No sigil. No glow. Just skin.

But the way he looked at her made her feel naked.

"I didn't mean for this," he said quietly.

"I know," she replied. "But I don't regret it."

His gaze snapped to hers. "You should."

"Maybe. But if this bond means I'm not a pawn anymore, I'll take it."

He stepped closer. Too close. "It also means I can feel you now. Your fear. Your heart."

Her breath hitched. "And?"

"It terrifies me."

The air between them stretched. Evelina's pulse fluttered against her throat-not from fear. From something else. Something even more dangerous.

She reached for his hand.

"Tell me what you feel," she whispered.

Lucien didn't speak. He closed his fingers around hers, and the moment their skin met, it hit her-

Heat. Power. Hunger. Not just his, but hers. A mirrored ache. Their magic curled together like smoke and stormclouds, refusing to stay separate.

"I feel you," she breathed.

His mouth was close to her ear. "Then you know what I want."

"Yes."

The words trembled in the space between them.

But just as his lips brushed hers, a sound shattered the moment-a howl. Distant. Inhuman.

Lucien stiffened. "They're here."

"Thorne?" Evelina asked, heart slamming against her ribs.

"No," Lucien growled. "Worse. The Elders."

He yanked her toward the narrow exit. "We have to move. Now."

They ran.

The catacombs seemed to pulse around them, the very walls echoing with whispers and distant snarls. Lucien moved like lightning, Evelina at his side, guided more by instinct than memory. The broken pact had drawn attention. They were no longer fugitives-they were a beacon.

Lucien slid to a halt at a tunnel split. He turned to her. "If I tell you to run-"

"I won't."

"You might have to."

"And if I lose you?" she asked, voice shaking.

He looked at her, something breaking in his expression. "Then I hope whatever's inside you is strong enough to burn the world down."

She grabbed his collar, pulled him into a kiss-brief, fierce, desperate.

"For the record," she whispered, "I'd burn it for you, too."

A shadow fell over the tunnel entrance.

Lucien shoved her behind him.

The first Elder stepped into view-tall, robed, eyes glowing with cold fire. More followed, cloaked in the ancient garb of the blood courts. They didn't speak. They didn't have to.

Their presence was a verdict.

"You broke the contract," one of them rasped.

Lucien bared his teeth. "She was never yours."

"She was all of ours," another said. "The last Hart. The Seal."

Evelina stepped forward. "I made my choice."

"You don't get to choose," the Elder hissed. "Not anymore."

Lucien raised his hand, dark energy gathering at his fingertips.

Evelina stood beside him, her own hands glowing faintly.

She didn't know what she could do.

Only that she would do it.

The Elders advanced.

Lucien leaned close.

"Whatever happens," he whispered, "stay with me."

Evelina's voice was steady.

"Always."

Then-

The battle began.