Ella sat curled in the corner of the library, her legs tucked beneath her as she stared into the flickering firelight. The whispers were louder now—no longer mere echoes in her dreams but constant murmurs that prowled at the edges of her mind. Their promises were like poisoned honey, seductive and sweet, pulling her toward something darker than she dared to acknowledge.
But the whispers didn’t belong to her alone.
The door burst open, the sharp crack of it against the frame jolting her upright. Adrian stormed inside, his tall frame exuding fury, his icy-blue eyes blazing with something fierce and unrelenting.
“They are in my head now,” Adrian growled, his voice low and dangerous, though there was something raw in its undercurrent. His gaze locked onto hers, and the room seemed to shrink around them. “They showed me…”
Ella rose to her feet, her pulse thrumming in her ears. “What do you mean? What did they show you?”
Adrian’s hands fisted at his sides, the tension in his body coiling tighter with every passing second. “You,” he said, his voice sharp as glass, “With others. Choosing them. Over me.”
The words cut through her, and the bond flared again, a sharp pain that mirrored his anguish. His jealousy, his hurt, wrapped around her like a vice until her chest ached with it.
Her chest ached at the raw pain in his voice, the bond amplifying his turmoil until it felt like her own.
“Adrian,” she began, her voice trembling, but he cut her off.
He shook his head sharply, his fists clenched at his sides. “It felt so damn real,” he growled, his voice low and ragged.
Before she could respond, the library door swung open, the sharp sound ricocheting off the walls like a gunshot. Vincent strode inside, his dark eyes scanning the room, sharp and unrelenting.
He paused briefly, his gaze locking onto Adrian and then shifting to Ella.
The tension in his frame was unmistakable, his shoulders taut, his jaw clenched as though he were holding back something far too dangerous to release.
Adrian turned sharply, his glare snapping to Vincent. “You felt it too, didn’t you, little brother?” The accusation in his voice cut through the air, cold and precise.
It was a statement, not a question—as if Adrian already knew the bond had betrayed him, forcing his emotions into the others’ awareness.
Vincent didn’t answer immediately. He held Adrian’s dead glare, before he stepped forward. Ignoring Adrian entirely, his attention fell fully on Ella.
“They are feeding on our feelings,” he said, his tone low and rough, like gravel grinding against stone. “Our fears. Our guilt. Everything we do not want to face—they are twisting it and using it against us.”
Ella’s chest tightened as Vincent’s words settled over her, the bond flaring in response. His emotions poured into her unbidden—deep, unrelenting sorrow edged with something darker.
Guilt. It wrapped around her like a shroud, stealing the air from her lungs.
“What have you seen?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Vincent’s jaw worked, his teeth gritting audibly as his gaze dropped to the floor. “You,” he said finally, his voice low and raw, like it had been torn from somewhere deep inside him. “They showed me you… dying.”
Ella froze, her heart stuttering violently. “What?”
His dark eyes snapped up to meet hers, blazing with an emotion she couldn’t quite name.
“I watched you die. Over and over again.” Vincent continued, his voice thick with restraint. “Each time because I was not fast enough. I was not strong enough.” His voice cracked on the last word, a fracture in the armor he so carefully wore.
“Vincent,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It was not real. It is the shadows, twisting everything.”
Vincent’s gaze dropped to her hand on his arm, his muscles taut beneath her touch. “It was real for me,” he muttered, his voice so low it was almost drowned out by the flicker of the fire. “Every time, I reached for you… every time, you were gone before I could get to you.”
The silence that followed was deafening, the bond still humming with the aftershocks of his confession. Then, Sebastian appeared in the doorway, the soft creak of the hinges breaking the stillness. His golden hair was disheveled, strands falling into his face, but the teasing smirk he so often wore was absent.
For once, there was no levity in his gaze.
“They are clever,” he said, his voice lighter than the tension in the room warranted. “I will give them that.”
“And what did they show you?” Adrian demanded, his tone sharp.
Sebastian’s gaze flicked to Ella before dropping to the floor. “Nothing I did not already know,” he said quietly. “Just ghosts from the past I would rather forget.”
Ella’s chest tightened as the bond flared, Sebastian’s emotions bleeding through. Beneath his charm and bravado was a well of guilt and regret so deep it left her breathless.
“They are playing us like puppets,” Sebastian said, his tone sharp. “Feeding off everything we keep buried, twisting the knife in deeper just to watch us bleed.” He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward Vincent and then Adrian before resting on Ella. “And it is working.”
Ella swallowed hard, her grip on Vincent loosening as she stepped back, the weight of their collective fears pressing down on her. She could feel it—an invisible presence that lingered at the edges of the room, feeding off every word, every fracture in their resolve.
Lucien’s voice interrupted from behind them. His sharp gaze swept over the group as he stepped into the room, the grimoire tucked under his arm. “The shadows are using our emotions to grow stronger. If we do not stabilize ourselves, we will lose.”
* * *
Ella wandered the dim corridors of Blackthorn Manor, the silence broken only by the faint patter of her footsteps. The weight of the bond and the day’s revelations pressed heavy against her chest, each breath shallow. The shadows lingered close tonight, their whispers growing louder, more insistent.
You are destined for more, they cooed, voices dripping with honeyed venom. Power. Freedom. Devotion. All yours. You only need to embrace it.
Her gaze drifted to the tall windows in the east wing, the mist rolling across the grounds like restless phantoms. She clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms, the sharp sting grounding her.
“Ella.”
The voice was soft, familiar, but it startled her, breaking through the haze. She turned sharply to see Sebastian. At first glance, his smirk seemed playful, but something deeper hid behind his eyes—something raw and restless.
“You are a hard one to track down, Ella darling,” he murmured, approaching her. His movements were unhurried, graceful as always, but there was an edge to his posture that hadn’t been there before.
Ella’s lips twitched faintly, though her heart raced. “I just needed some air.”
Sebastian stopped a few steps away, his golden gaze locking onto hers, unblinking.
“Air. Of course. It is stifling here, isn’t it?” His voice dropped slightly, almost too casual. “Everything pressing in. Whispers at the edge of your mind.”
The shadows swirled at the corners of her vision, their words twining through her thoughts like smoke.
He only wants one thing from you. That is all you are to them—a possession, bought and paid for.
She froze, her breath catching as the bond pulsed violently. His golden eyes burned with something sharper now, darker, the playful mask slipping to reveal the hunger beneath.
“Sebastian?”
He smiled faintly, but the charm he so often wore like armor was brittle. “You smell like temptation, darling,” he murmured, his voice low, almost husky. “It is maddening.”
Ella’s chest tightened. “Are you—”
“Yes, I am holding back,” he interrupted, his voice almost apologetic. “Barely. But I cannot—” He stopped, exhaling sharply as though trying to steady himself. “Your blood is a need for me, Ella.”
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The bond between them flared to life, crackling like lightning between their chests, and her skin prickled with awareness.
“You are asking,” she said quietly, searching his face.
Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “I won’t take it without permission.” His gaze dropped to her throat, his restraint like a taut wire ready to snap. “But I truly cannot—”
Ella swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. She felt his need through the bond, sharp and desperate, but the whispers coiled tighter, hissing in her ear.
You are nothing but a blood doll to them. A plaything. They will use you until they tire of you.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head as if to dislodge the words.
Sebastian’s brows furrowed. “Ella?”
“It is fine,” she murmured, lifting her chin. “You can take it.”
His gaze snapped back to hers, a flicker of uncertainty flashing across his features before he stepped closer, his movements fluid but deliberate. His hand came up to brush against her cheek, his thumb lingering against her jawline as he tilted her head gently.
“This will help for sure,” he murmured, though his voice was rough now, edged with hunger.
Her breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing her neck. The shadows whispered louder, their words winding through her resolve like vines, but she clenched her fists at her sides, trying to focus on the warmth of Sebastian’s touch.
They do not care about you.
Sebastian’s fangs grazed her skin, sending a jolt through her body, the bond flaring wildly. “Relax, love,” he breathed, his voice soft and laced with promise.
The first sting of his bite sent fire coursing through her veins, but it wasn’t pain that followed—it was something far more stronger. The bond exploded with energy, Sebastian’s emotions bleeding into her like molten gold—desire, hunger, need—and her own shadow-induced yearning twisted alongside it, amplifying every sensation.
Her knees buckled slightly, and Sebastian’s arm curled around her waist, holding her close as he drank. The shadows whispered viciously now, each word a dagger.
He is only feeding on your body. That is all you are to him—a vessel. A tool. A little thing.
“Stop,” she gasped, though she didn’t know if the word was for the whispers or for Sebastian.
Sebastian immediately pulled back. His lips were stained crimson, his golden eyes darker now, a predator sated—for the moment.
Before Ella could fully steady herself, Sebastian scooped her into his arms effortlessly. “You are pale,” he muttered, his voice softer now, more human. “Let me take you back to your room.”
Ella didn’t resist, though the whispers coiled tighter, filling the quiet.
They will never love you. They will only use you.
She shut her eyes as Sebastian carried her through the halls, fighting to push the shadows back.
“It is the shadows,” she told herself. “It is not real. It is not real.”
But when they reached her room and Sebastian tucked her into bed, planting a light kiss on her forehead, she saw it.
Ella’s blood froze.
Standing in the center of the chamber was a figure—her exact reflection. It turned slowly, its lips curving into a cruel, knowing smile.