The night air was colder than usual as Kyra stood alone in the front yard of Keal's estate, her breath rising in soft clouds as she dialed the only person she could think of.
Her hands trembled as the call rang once… twice…
"Kyra?" Lorian's voice answered, low and gravelly, like sleep still clung to the edges of it.
"He's gone." Her voice cracked. "Keal. I went back to the house. He's not there."
There was a pause, then the sound of a door closing. "Stay put. I'm coming."
He arrived in less than ten minutes.
The sound of his car crushing the gravel was the only thing that moved her, and when she turned toward him, her eyes were raw but dry. Lorian stepped out of his car and barely spared a glance at her before his gaze swept over the grounds, as if searching for threats. As if nothing mattered more than the search.
Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, his touch strong, unyielding.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Finally, he spoke, his voice hard. "You called the right person, but you shouldn't have come here alone."
She pulled back, looking up at him, her voice trembling slightly. "You're right. But I didn't know who else to call."
His eyes darkened. "You should've called me sooner."
The estate was deathly still. Too still. As if the house itself were mourning Keal's absence, its shadows watching, waiting.
Kyra led him through the rooms she had already searched. She showed him the broken shard of glass, the drop of dried blood, the strange symbol left behind on the desk.
He studied it for a moment, brow furrowing. "I've seen this before."
"You have?" she asked, hope rising like a flicker.
Lorian's eyes narrowed. "Not in any book. I saw it burned into a tree near the northern cliffs. A mark of the Council. They're ruthless, and they don't make mistakes."
She froze, blood running cold. "You think they took him?"
"I don't think," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I know they took him. They don't take people for no reason. They took him because of the mess he's made."
"Keal killed people. A lot of people. Powerful people."
"Exactly." Lorian's lips twisted into a grim smile. "And they don't like when their pets get too wild."
She felt a shiver of unease run through her. "What does that mean for him?"
Lorian's gaze turned cold, sharp. "It means that unless we move quickly, Keal will be made an example of. They'll drag him to the Hollowed Glen, and they'll punish him for everything he's done."
Her heart thudded in her chest. "We can't let that happen."
"You should've thought about that before you got involved with someone like him," Lorian snapped, his voice suddenly full of steel. "You think I didn't know the risks? You think I didn't warn you? Now you've got the Council on your back, and I'm the only thing standing between you and them. You want him back, we do it my way."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Lorian's expression softened for a fraction of a second, his eyes unreadable. "Sorry doesn't cut it. Now, stop apologizing and start listening. We're running out of time."
They moved through the house for hours, searching every room, combing through Keal's notes and the ancient texts he kept hidden in his study. Kyra moved a worn book about vampiric history, and a hidden panel clicked open, revealing a narrow drawer.
Inside was a piece of parchment. Scribbled names, locations.
At the bottom, written hastily: "If anything happens to me, it will be them—the Council. Look to the Hollowed Glen."
She handed it to Lorian, her fingers trembling.
His jaw clenched as he read the note. "The Hollowed Glen. That's where they'll take him. There's no other place that's more fitting for a public execution."
Kyra swallowed hard. "We have to move fast."
Lorian's gaze was cold, calculating. "We will. But first, you should know something."
"What?"
"So we are related anyways"
Lorian's eyes softened for just a moment, but his tone remained sharp. "I found out who you are. Soraya contacted me. She told me the truth. You're not fully human. Not like I thought."
Kyra stiffened. "So you know."
"Yeah," Lorian said. "I know you're not just Keal's… little pet. You're connected to something far older. Something dangerous."
Kyra turned away, staring out into the darkened grounds. "And you're not going to stop looking at me differently now, are you?"
Lorian's voice was low, a growl. "I'll stop looking at you the way you want when you stop being a walking mystery."
She didn't look at him, but her heart hammered in her chest. "What do you want me to say, Lorian? That I'm sorry for everything? That I didn't choose this?"
"No," he said, his voice hardening. "I don't want your apology. I want you to stay alive. I want you to survive whatever the hell you've gotten yourself into. And I'll make sure you do."
She met his gaze. "And you think you can control me, don't you?"
A sly smile tugged at Lorian's lips. "Maybe. But you're not alone in this anymore. So get used to it."
By dawn, the air was tense with the knowledge that time was running out. The only sound was the soft rustling of the trees as they stood outside Keal's estate, preparing to leave.
Kyra crossed her arms, her mind racing. "Lorian, what if we're too late? What if—"
"We're not too late," he interrupted, voice calm but firm. "He's not dead yet. And when we find him, the Council will regret ever crossing us."
She looked at him, her pulse quickening. "What if they don't let him go?"
"They won't have a choice," Lorian said, his tone dangerously cold. "You're forgetting who I am. I'll tear them apart if I have to."
And for the first time, Kyra understood that in Lorian's world, his love could be as fierce and unyielding as his ruthlessness. Both were entwined in a deadly dance that she was now part of.
And they were going to fight together.