The Blood Pact Archives were silent when I arrived—too silent.
No torchlight flickered in the sconces. No hum of sealed oaths pulsed through the stone. Just darkness. Stillness. The kind that didn’t belong. This place was never quiet. Not with centuries of broken promises, forbidden contracts, and blood-bought allegiances pressing against the wards. Even at night, the Archives breathed—soft, restless, alive. But now?
Now, it was a tomb.
I stepped inside, my boots soundless on the worn stone, my senses stretched thin. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, dried blood, and something sharper—magic that had been disturbed. Not shattered. Not breached. But *probed*. Like fingers had been here, skimming the surface of the sealed records, searching for something hidden.
And I knew who.
Lyra.
She’d vanished after the Council chamber—slipped through the shadows like smoke, her crimson robe vanishing into the torch-lit corridors. I’d expected her to run. To hide. To regroup. But I hadn’t expected her to come *here*. Not to the Archives. Not to the one place where every lie was recorded, every betrayal etched in ink.
And then I saw it.
A faint glow—blue, flickering—coming from the restricted wing. The oldest section. The one that held the Blood Moon Ritual records. The ones from thirteen years ago.
My pulse spiked.
I moved faster, my hand resting on the hilt of my dagger. I wasn’t human. Wasn’t fully vampire. I was something else—something the Council had forged in secrecy, a hybrid bred for loyalty, for silence, for watching. And I’d been watching Lyra for weeks. Not because I distrusted her. But because I’d known—*felt*—something was wrong.
Her scent was off. Not in a way others would notice. Not in blood or magic. But in the way she moved. The way her fangs never quite retracted. The way her eyes lingered on Kael—not with desire, but with calculation. And now, here she was, in the one place that could expose her.
The glow grew brighter as I turned the corner.
And there she was.
Lyra stood in the center of the restricted chamber, her back to me, her raven-black hair cascading over one shoulder. She wore a long, flowing robe of deep crimson, but it was the *book* in her hands that made my breath catch.
The Blood Moon Codex.
The oldest record of the ritual. The one that held the full sigil sequence, the incantations, the names of everyone present. The one that had been sealed after the last Blood Moon War. The one that could prove—
And then I saw *her*.
Another figure stepped from the shadows—tall, pale, her silver hair pulled back, her eyes sharp with fear. Maeve. Opal’s aunt. The woman who’d raised her. The one who’d taught her the old ways, who’d hidden her half-fae blood, who’d warned her never to trust the Council.
And now?
Now, she was standing beside Lyra, her hands trembling as she pointed to a page in the Codex.
“It’s here,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “The clause. The one that binds the Blood Moon Bond to the moonfire. If it’s severed before the alignment, the power will consume her.”
Lyra’s lips curved into a smile—slow, knowing, venomous. “And if we rewrite it?”
“We can’t,” Maeve said. “The Codex is enchanted. It resists alteration. But if we find the original ritual scroll—if we can prove the bond was forged under false pretenses—we can petition the Council to dissolve it.”
“And if they refuse?” Lyra asked.
Maeve hesitated. “Then we make sure Opal breaks it herself. Before the next full moon.”
My blood ran cold.
They weren’t just searching.
They were *conspiring*.
And they were using the truth to destroy Opal.
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just stood there, hidden in the shadows, my mind racing. Maeve had been compromised. I’d suspected it for weeks—ever since Kael had told me about the whispers, the missing records, the way she’d warned Opal against the Council but never named Vexis. But I hadn’t known for sure. Not until now.
And Lyra?
She wasn’t just a vampire.
She was Vexis’s agent.
And she’d been sent to destabilize the bond. To turn Opal against Kael. To make her break it before the moonfire was fully awakened.
Because if she did?
She’d die.
And with her, the last hope of the Lunar Coven.
“You’re risking everything,” Maeve said, her voice trembling. “If Kael finds out—”
“He won’t,” Lyra purred, closing the Codex. “Because you’re going to tell him the truth. That the bond is killing her. That she has to break it. That it’s the only way to save her.”
“And if he doesn’t believe me?”
“Then you’ll make him,” Lyra said, stepping closer. “You’re her family. Her mentor. If you say it’s true, he’ll listen. And if he doesn’t—”
She didn’t finish.
But the threat hung in the air like a blade.
Maeve flinched. “I didn’t do this to hurt her. I did it to protect her.”
“And now you’re protecting her by destroying her?” Lyra asked, her voice sharp. “Don’t be a fool, Maeve. Vexis doesn’t care about your love for her. He cares about power. And if you don’t help him, he’ll take it from her. Slowly. Painfully. And you’ll watch.”
Maeve didn’t answer.
Just lowered her head, her shoulders trembling.
And in that moment, I saw it—
Not betrayal.
Not greed.
But *fear*.
She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to.
She was doing it because she had no choice.
And that made it worse.
Before I could move, Lyra turned—just slightly—and I saw it.
The sigil.
Faint, hidden beneath the illusion of her skin, but *there*.
A mark of the Unseelie Court.
Not just a brand.
A *leash*.
Vexis wasn’t just using her.
He was *controlling* her.
And if Maeve didn’t do as she was told, he’d pull it.
I didn’t wait.
I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
“You’re making a mistake.”
They both froze.
Lyra turned slowly, her lips curving into a smile that was all venom and no warmth. “Silas. I should’ve known you’d be lurking in the shadows.”
“And I should’ve known you’d be here,” I said, stepping into the light. “Plotting. Lying. Betraying the Council.”
“I’m not betraying anyone,” she said, closing the Codex and holding it to her chest. “I’m protecting the truce. The bond is unstable. Opal’s power is dangerous. If it’s not controlled, it’ll destroy us all.”
“And you’re the one to control it?” I asked, stepping closer. “By rewriting the Codex? By turning her aunt against her? By feeding her lies?”
“Someone has to,” she said, her voice low. “Kael’s blinded by her. He sees a weapon. I see a threat.”
“And Maeve?” I asked, turning to her. “Is she part of your plan? Or just another pawn?”
She didn’t answer. Just looked at me, her eyes filled with sorrow. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t ask for this.”
“But you’re doing it anyway,” I said. “Because Vexis has you.”
Her breath caught.
Lyra laughed—soft, cruel. “You think you know everything, don’t you? That you’ve uncovered the great conspiracy? But you’re wrong, Silas. You’re not the hero. You’re the fool. And when the Blood Moon rises, you’ll be the first to burn.”
“And you’ll be the one holding the torch,” I said, stepping closer. “But you’re not as clever as you think. I’ve been watching you. Tracing your steps. And I know where you’ve been. Who you’ve spoken to. And what you’ve taken.”
Her smile faltered.
“You’re bluffing,” she said.
“Am I?” I asked, reaching into my coat. I pulled out a small, silver key—the one that opened the Blood Pact Vault. The one that held the original ritual scroll. The one I’d taken from her chambers hours ago, after she’d left the Council chamber in tears.
Her eyes widened.
“You stole from me,” she whispered.
“You stole from the Council,” I said. “From Opal. From Kael. From the truce. And now, you’re going to pay for it.”
She didn’t move. Just stared at the key, her hands tightening around the Codex. “You don’t understand. If the bond isn’t broken, she’ll die. The moonfire will consume her. And with her, the last hope of balance.”
“And if you break it too soon?” I asked. “If you force her to sever it before the alignment? What then?”
She didn’t answer.
Because she knew.
It would kill her.
And that was exactly what Vexis wanted.
“You’re not saving her,” I said, stepping closer. “You’re delivering her to him. And I won’t let you.”
She didn’t argue.
Just moved.
Fast.
Her hand shot out, fangs bared, aiming for my throat—
And I dodged.
My dagger was in my hand before she could blink, the silver blade flashing in the dim light. I slashed, not to kill, but to wound. The blade caught her arm, slicing through the fabric, drawing blood. She hissed, stumbling back, her eyes blazing with fury.
“You’ll regret that,” she snarled.
“I already do,” I said, circling her. “But not as much as you will.”
She lunged again—faster this time, fueled by rage. I parried, the clash of silver against fang ringing through the chamber. She was strong. Fast. But I’d trained in the old ways. In the silent wars. In the battles no one saw.
I feinted left, then struck right—my dagger slashing across her ribs. She screamed, blood soaking her robe. But she didn’t fall. Just spun, her hand grabbing the Codex and hurling it at me. I dodged, but the distraction was enough.
She was at the door.
Running.
“Stop her!” I shouted, turning to Maeve. “Don’t let her leave!”
But Maeve didn’t move.
Just stood there, her face pale, her hands trembling.
And then—
Lyra was gone.
I didn’t hesitate.
I ran after her, my boots pounding against the stone, my breath coming fast. She was fast—vampire speed, fueled by panic. But I knew these corridors. Knew every hidden passage, every blind turn. And I wasn’t chasing her.
I was herding her.
I cut through the east wing, then the lower vaults, driving her toward the outer gate. The Citadel was quiet, the Blood Moon fading in the sky, the torches burning low. But I could feel the guards—close. Waiting.
And then—
I saw her.
At the gate.
She was pulling something from her coat—a small, black vial, its contents swirling with shadow. A teleportation elixir. Forbidden. Deadly. But effective.
She uncorked it—
And I threw my dagger.
It wasn’t meant to kill.
It was meant to shatter.
The blade struck the vial just as she raised it to her lips. Glass exploded, the liquid spilling across the stone, hissing like acid. She screamed, stumbling back, her hands burning, her face twisted with pain.
“No!” she shrieked. “You don’t understand! You’re dooming her!”
“I’m saving her,” I said, stepping closer. “From you. From Vexis. From the lies.”
She didn’t answer.
Just turned—and ran.
Not toward the gate.
But into the darkness.
Vanishing into the shadows like the ghost she was.
I didn’t follow.
Just stood there, breathing hard, my heart pounding.
She was gone.
But she wasn’t free.
Because I had the key.
And I had the truth.
I turned and walked back through the corridors, the key burning in my pocket, Lyra’s blood on my hands. The Citadel was silent. The Blood Moon was fading. But the storm wasn’t over.
It was just beginning.
I reached the private wing and found Kael and Opal in her chambers—*their* chambers now, since the bond demanded proximity. They were standing by the hearth, their voices low, their bodies close. The bond hummed between them, a live wire stretching across the room. Opal’s eyes were red, her cheeks streaked with tears. Kael’s hand was on her shoulder, not in possession, but in *support*.
They both turned when I entered.
“Silas,” Kael said, his voice tight. “Did you find her?”
I didn’t answer.
Just stepped forward and placed the key on the obsidian table.
“She’s gone,” I said. “But she left this behind.”
Opal’s breath caught. “That’s the Blood Pact key.”
“It was in her chambers,” I said. “Along with encrypted messages. Orders from Vexis. Instructions to destabilize the bond. To turn you against Kael. To make you break it before the moonfire was fully awakened.”
Her eyes widened. “And Maeve?”
“She’s compromised,” I said. “Vexis has her. He’s using her love for you to control her.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “And the Codex?”
“She took it,” I said. “But I know where she’s going. She’ll try to reach Vexis. To deliver the key. To finish what she started.”
“Then we stop her,” Opal said, stepping forward. “Now.”
“It’s a trap,” Kael said. “She wants you to follow. She wants you to break the bond.”
“And if she has the truth?” I asked, turning to him. “About the ritual? About how to save your mother?”
He didn’t answer.
Just looked at Opal, his gold eyes burning.
And I knew—
The game had changed.
Because now, it wasn’t just about revenge.
It wasn’t just about the bond.
It was about *truth*.
And I would burn the world to get it.
“I’m going,” Opal said, stepping past him. “With or without you.”
Kael didn’t stop her.
Just followed.
And as they walked through the torch-lit corridors, the bond humming between them, I knew one thing.
The real battle wasn’t out there in the frozen wilds.
It wasn’t with Vexis.
It was here.
In the heart of the Citadel.
And the enemy wasn’t just the man who’d framed Kael.
It was the woman who’d raised Opal.
And the vampire who’d worn his shirt.
And the bond that tied them all together.
And me.
Because the most dangerous thing of all?
Wasn’t the magic.
Wasn’t the lies.
Wasn’t even the blood.
It was the truth.
And I wasn’t sure any of us were ready to face it.