Lucien’s POV
Blood soaked the stone faster than the healers could contain it.
I saw it the moment I shifted my grip beneath Vera’s shoulders. The gold beneath her skin burned too bright, veins lit like fractures in a sun-struck blade, and the bond network screamed with the strain of it.
“She’s hemorrhaging,” one of the healers said hoarsely, panic shredding what discipline she had left. “Her pulse is destabilizing. We can’t slow it.”
Another shook his head, hands shaking as he pressed uselessly at her side. “The wards are gone. The chamber won’t hold.”
I didn’t look at them. I looked at Vera.
Her eyes were half-lidded, unfocused, breath tearing in shallow gasps as another contraction ripped through her. The pain was brutal, but it was not what terrified me most.
It was the way her strength was bleeding out with every heartbeat, how the bond felt stretched thin enough to snap.
“She’s losing too much blood,” I said, forcing the words through the noise and movement, anchoring them in certainty rather than panic. “If this continues, her body will not sustain the labor.”
The room stilled just enough for the meaning to land. Celene turned sharply toward me, alarm breaking through her control:
“Lucien, think carefully about what you’re suggesting. The wrong source could destabilize her completely.”
“I am thinking,” I replied, already shifting my grip to keep Vera upright as another tremor ran through her. “She needs blood that will reinforce balance, not impose hierarchy. Darius’s blood would claim her in the middle of collapse.”
Vera’s eyes found mine with visible effort, the pain pulling her in and out of focus. “You can’t ask this of me,” she said hoarsely. “Taking from you won’t just heal me. It will change us.”
I leaned closer, lowering my voice so it reached her before the fear did. “You don’t have to agree with the consequence right now. You only have to stay alive long enough to face it.”
Her breath shook as she tried to steady it. “If I drink from you, the bond won’t loosen again. It will deepen in ways we can’t reverse.”
“I am aware of that,” I said without hesitation. “And I am willing to live with whatever that makes us.”
Another contraction tore through her, violent enough to drive a cry from her chest as the floor cracked beneath the strain of it. Her fingers clutched my arm, not asking for permission, just holding on.
I felt her fear surge through the bond, raw and apologetic all at once, and it cut deeper than the pain waiting for me.
“I am not making this offer lightly,” I told her, pressing my forehead briefly to hers. “I would rather let the Anchor break me than watch it take you.”
The healers had gone very still, watching us with something like awe and dread.
“This will invert the Anchor flow,” Celene said tightly. “If he does this, he will take the backlash directly into his body.”
“I’m aware,” I replied.
Vera shook her head weakly. “You can’t—”
“I can,” I said, lowering my forehead to hers. “You’re running out of time!”
Her breath shuddered. Blood pooled beneath her, too much, too fast, and the bond screamed in warning.
“Please,” I whispered, the word tearing free before I could stop it. “Stay.”
She searched my face, pain and fear warring with love so raw it nearly broke me. Then she closed her eyes and nodded once.
“Tell me when,” she said.
I opened my wrist without hesitation, the blade clean and precise. Blood welled instantly, rich and dark, carrying everything I was into the air between us.
“Now,” I said.
Vera hesitated for a heartbeat that felt like a lifetime, then leaned forward and drank.
The connection slammed into place with breathtaking force. The Anchor reversed.
I felt it, the current tearing through me as stability poured out of my veins and into her. Her pulse steadied under my hands even as agony detonated in my chest, pain lancing outward in white-hot arcs that stole my breath.
Lucien, she cried through the bond, horror flooding her awareness as she felt what she was taking.
“Don’t pull away,” I said through clenched teeth. “Let it move. Let it balance.”
The palace screamed.
Stone groaned as the reversal rippled outward, shockwaves tearing through foundations already weakened by Vera’s labor. Somewhere above us, towers cracked. Somewhere beyond the walls, the city reeled as the bond network convulsed violently, realigning itself around a new flow.
I went to my knees, dragging Vera with me, holding her upright against my chest as pain burned through my nerves with merciless clarity.
Every contraction she endured echoed inside me, magnified, but her bleeding slowed. Her breathing steadied.
“She’s stabilizing,” one of the healers whispered in disbelief. “The hemorrhage is stopping.”
“Keep working,” I snapped, forcing my voice past the agony. “Do not stop now.”
The doors burst open. Steel rang as guards flooded the chamber, weapons drawn, faces tight with fear and resolve.
Some bore the queen’s colors. Others did not.
“The Covenant is in effect!” someone shouted. “Secure the heir!”
I felt Vera stiffen in my arms, rage flaring hot through the bond despite her exhaustion.
“No one touches her,” I said, forcing myself to my feet, holding her upright against me even as my legs threatened to buckle. “You will stand down.”
A guard hesitated, eyes flicking to the blood on the floor, the glow beneath Vera’s skin, the way the room itself seemed to bow around us.
Then another voice rang out, cold and triumphant.
“Too late.”
Aldric did not enter the chamber. He did not need to. His will moved through the palace as effectively as any army.
“The birth marks the transfer,” his voice echoed from the corridor beyond. “Contain them.”
Weapons lifted.
I shifted my stance, placing myself fully between Vera and the advancing line, my body screaming in protest as the Anchor continued to channel pain into me. I refused to let her fall.
“You will not turn this room into a slaughterhouse,” Celene said sharply, stepping forward, blood-law flaring around her hands. “Stand down or face judgment.”
Some guards faltered. Others did not. And then Darius stepped into view.
He moved with infuriating calm, chaos parting around him as though it recognized him as kin. His gaze locked onto Vera, hunger and reverence braided together in a way that made my skin crawl.
“This has gone far enough,” he said quietly. “The child must be secured.”
I tightened my grip on Vera, fury sharpening my focus. “You will not come any closer.”
Darius’s lips curved faintly. “You cannot protect her from what comes next.”
He reached into his coat and drew out a slender ritual blade, its edge etched with sigils old enough to predate the throne itself. Blood-magic hummed along its length, eager and precise.
“The binding must occur at birth,” he declared, voice carrying effortlessly through the chamber. “For the good of the realm.”
Vera stirred weakly in my arms, pain and fury flaring together.
I braced myself, holding her upright, refusing to yield even as the world fractured around us. And I knew that the next moments would decide everything.