Blood Rites

Lucian:

Rhett carried her in like a fallen saint, her hair a black halo against his chest, her body trembling with the aftermath of carnage. I stood in the scriptorium’s shadows, my fingers curled so tight into the banister that the old wood cracked.

Blood. Her blood. Our blood. Their blood. It clung to her like perfume, gilding her skin in ruin. And gods help me, she was beautiful.

The wolf looked at her as though she were salvation. Silas’s shadows bent toward her, whispering in that language only he understood. Even Kai stirred from his weakened sprawl, eyes half-glazed but fixed on her like she was the last star in a collapsing sky.

And me?

I watched.

Because watching her destroy herself was all I could do.

She had wielded more magic in one night than even I could stomach. Wolf-strength, shadow-binding, light magic, vampire-speed. She had taken it all, poured it into her fragile body, and laughed in the face of gods and monsters alike. She’d drowned the courtyard in death and risen from it unbroken.

But the tremors in her limbs, the fever in her blood—I knew what that meant.

Magic taken without an anchor is a blade without a sheath. It cuts the wielder as deeply as the enemy.

And Isadora was bleeding out on the inside.

Rhett laid her gently across the bed, his beast still bristling, protective to the point of violence. He stroked her hair back, whispered something against her temple. Kai pushed himself upright, his glow flickering weakly, as if he could burn back her exhaustion with will alone. Silas sank further into his corner, all hollow eyes and secrets, the shadows tightening like a noose around him.

And she—she twitched beneath their hands, fever-hot, her lips parting with broken whispers I couldn’t hear.

“Lucian,” she murmured once. Barely. But it was enough.

The wolf’s head snapped toward me. Kai’s lips parted like he’d deny me. Even Silas looked up, shadows stirring at his feet.

But I didn’t wait for their protests.

I crossed the room in three strides and sank onto the mattress beside her. My hand framed her jaw, forcing her gaze to mine. Her eyes flickered open—ashen, glowing faintly with the residue of everything she had consumed.

“Sweet little raven,” I whispered. “You’ve swallowed the storm, and now you drown in it.”

Her throat bobbed. “Hurts,” she breathed. “Lucian… it hurts.”

And something inside me fractured.

I should have left her to the pain. It would have been wiser. Safer. Every scrap of prophecy screamed that she was the Devourer, the destroyer of everything we were. Anchoring her magic to mine was handing her the blade that would slit my throat.

But I am not wise, not when it comes to her.

And when she trembled in my arms, begging without words, I couldn’t deny her.

“Close your eyes,” I ordered.

Her lashes fluttered shut, trust handed to me so easily it made my fangs ache.

I drew the knife from my belt, slid it across my palm. Ancient blood welled up, thick and black-red, carrying centuries of poison, hunger, dominion. The blood of kings and killers. The kind of blood that could shatter a mortal mind.

I pressed my bleeding hand to her lips.

“Drink.”

She hesitated. Of course she did. She wasn’t entirely gone yet. But then her tongue darted out, tasting the wound.

And gods, the sound she made.

Her body arched, her fingers gripping my arm like claws as she drank. My blood slid down her throat like fire and shadow, stitching itself into her veins, binding, anchoring. Her tremors slowed, her breaths deepened. And all the while, I felt it—my power pouring into her, becoming hers.

Not stolen this time. Given.

Freely.

Willingly.

It is different than a vampire bite, injecting my cursed venom into her viens, having her become like me. No, this type magic os different. I give her all my power, my strength, offering her full submission of myself.

I leaned closer, my mouth brushing her ear. “Take it, little raven. Anchor yourself. But know this—my blood is not kind. It will bind me. It will burn me. It will mark me as yours.”

Her muffled gasp against my hand was answer enough.

The others stared. I could feel it. Rhett half-risen, torn between tearing me off her and letting her live. Kai glowing faintly with outrage and fear. Silas unreadable, shadows pulsing like a heartbeat.

But none of them moved.

Because they knew—without me, she might not survive the night.

I pulled my hand away, licking the last of the blood from her lips, my tongue brushing too close, too intimate. Her eyes opened again, glowing brighter now, steadier. My blood threaded through her aura, darkening it, weighting it.

Her voice was a rasp. “What did you do?”

I smiled, sharp and cruel. “I saved you.”

Her hand trembled as it rose to her chest, where her heartbeat pounded erratic and strong. My blood in her veins, my venom in her marrow. She would never be free of me now. Not unless she tore herself apart.

“You anchored the magic,” Kai said, his voice breaking the silence. Not accusation—fear. “Gods, Lucian… you bound you to her.”

I didn’t look at him. My gaze stayed on her, drinking in the sight of her pulse at her throat, the way her body hummed with stolen and gifted power alike.

“Yes,” I said simply.

Her hand caught mine, surprisingly firm. “Lucian,” she whispered. “If this kills you—”

“It won’t,” I cut in. My thumb brushed the edge of her jaw, her pulse hammering beneath fragile skin. “If anyone dies from this, it will be you. Do you understand, little raven? My blood is a curse. You drink it, you live with it. Or you wouldn't have stayed living at all.”

Her breath shuddered. But she didn’t let go.

The wolf snarled low in his chest. Kai’s glow flared faintly. Silas’s shadows thickened.

But she whispered, soft and certain, “Then I’ll live with it.”

For the first time in centuries, I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

She had accepted the curse. She had chosen me—not in the way I wanted, not in love or devotion, but in survival. She would carry my blood in her veins, my hunger in her marrow, my leash on her power.

And the most dangerous part?

She didn’t look afraid.

She looked relieved.