The map pulsed when her blood hit it.
It wasn't paper anymore. It was flesh.
It breathed.
Damien watched as Ariana traced a trembling finger down the ancient scroll, her eyes glowing with blood-sight. She flinched as if each curve of ink burned her skin.
Then she gasped.
"It's not a map," she whispered. "It's a trap."
Before he could reach her, the bloodlines ignited—and Ariana vanished.
---
Inside the vision.
She stood on a vast battlefield of bone.
The sky above her bled black. In the distance, a tower rose, coiled in mist and shadow. She felt Clara's pain pulling her toward it, like a hook in her chest.
But with every step, the landscape twisted. The ground cracked, and a voice echoed around her.
> "You don't belong in this world, little mate."
Xander.
He emerged from the dark, tall and regal, wearing blood armor, eyes burning silver.
> "You think Damien's love will save you? You think being marked makes you worthy?"
He stepped closer.
> "You're just a mortal girl who moaned for a monster in the dark. And now you're mine."
Ariana backed away—but the bones turned to hands and reached for her.
She screamed, light erupting from her throat, ripping through the illusion—
And then she woke, sobbing on the stone floor, blood leaking from her nose.
Damien was already kneeling beside her.
"I saw him," she whispered. "He knows I'm coming."
Damien nodded grimly.
"So do we."
---
Elsewhere: the War Council
The chamber was packed with vampires—clan lieutenants, old guard soldiers, and allies bound to Damien by blood and terror.
Asra stood to his right. Her eyes never left Ariana's trembling form.
"We cannot afford to wait," said General Kade, arms folded. "The girl is a liability. If she falls into Xander's hands, the entire bond turns against us."
"She's his mate," Asra snapped. "She's already stronger than half the clan. You saw what she did to the map."
"She nearly died," someone growled. "We can't win a war with a half-turned fledgling playing witch in our halls."
Damien stood, voice a low snarl.
"Then leave."
The room froze.
"If any of you doubt me—doubt her—you are free to walk out. But if you stay... you fight for her."
Silence.
Then Kade slowly bent the knee.
"As you command, my lord."
The others followed.
But none of them saw the figure watching from the rafters.
A vampire, cloaked in bone silk, with a brand on his neck—Xander's mark.
---
That night...
Ariana was in the bath, the warmth soothing her raw nerves, when she heard it.
A whisper.
Steel against steel.
She stood, water dripping down her skin, heart pounding.
The door exploded inward.
Three assassins, eyes glowing, blades ready.
She screamed—
And the world erupted in fangs and flame.
Damien tore through the door like a beast, blood rage in his eyes.
He ripped the first one's throat out, slammed the second into the stone, and—
Ariana grabbed the third with trembling hands—and saw.
She saw Clara. Tortured. Alive.
The assassin tried to stab her.
But Ariana didn't flinch.
She twisted the blade from his hand—and buried it in his chest.
The assassin gurgled, smiled—
> "He's already here."
And died.