Ariana sat alone on the west terrace of the Blood Keep, the wind tugging her hair across her face.
Below her, the mountain stretched endlessly into fog. Above, the sky darkened with the approach of storm clouds—not just weather. Something darker. She felt it in her bones now.
Since the ritual, her senses had changed. She could hear whispers from rooms away. Feel the cold in Damien's heart when he wasn't near. Smell the difference between fear and lust in a heartbeat.
But none of that prepared her for what she felt now.
A flicker.
A heartbeat that wasn't Damien's.
A memory not hers.
Her sister's laugh.
"Arie! You can't eat ramen again for dinner!"
Ariana clutched her temples, gasping.
Her vision spun. She saw her sister—Clara. Same auburn hair, same wild eyes. Standing in their shared apartment back in Boston. Holding a cat.
Rook.
And then—
The vision twisted. Clara was screaming. A mirror shattered. Blood smeared on white tiles. A shadow stepped behind her. Tall. Male. Eyes like fire.
"Xander," Ariana whispered, stumbling to her feet.
She ran through the hallways barefoot, ignoring the startled looks of passing vampires.
She had to find Damien.
---
She found him in the war chamber with Asra, standing over a map layered with crimson thread and silver pins.
He looked up as she burst in.
"I saw her," Ariana gasped. "My sister. She's alive."
Damien went still. "What did you see?"
"She was screaming. Someone grabbed her—your brother. I know it. He's showing me these visions on purpose. He wants me to feel it."
Damien's face darkened.
Asra stepped forward. "He's using the mark. Twisting it. If he's gotten blood from a blood relative—your sister—it's enough to create a tether."
Ariana blinked. "Blood magic. He's inside her?"
"No," Asra said. "He's using her to get inside you."
Damien growled. "We'll find her. I'll kill him myself."
But Asra's next words stopped them both.
"There's more," she said, voice low. "I've traced movement in the lower tunnels. Someone has been speaking to Xander from inside the court. One of your own."
Damien turned, fury rising like a storm. "Who?"
"I'm not sure yet. But if you leave the Keep now—if you chase after Clara—they may strike here. You'll be exposed."
Ariana looked between them.
"If we don't go now," she said, "she'll die."
Damien stared at her. Through her.
He could feel it too.
Her fear. Her guilt. Her desperate need to protect what little family she had left.
And it was killing him.
---
That night, Ariana stood on the balcony outside Damien's chamber, watching lightning dance over the peaks.
He stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I made you a promise," he said against her neck. "That no one would touch you again."
She turned to him. "Then help me save her."
Damien cupped her face, breathing her in.
"I will burn the world to the ground for you, Ariana. But once we leave these walls… there's no safe return."
She leaned into him.
"I don't want safety anymore," she whispered. "I want vengeance."
He kissed her—deep, violent, possessive.
And that night, they made love like it might be their last.
Not with the brutal hunger of before—but with something colder beneath it. A shared promise of blood.
Of retribution.
Of war.