Page 75 of Blood Vows
And here we were, standing in one of the oldest cemeteries in New York, surrounded by weathered angels and cracked marble, waiting for a ghost to show himself. But of course, Vasileios had chosen this place for a reason. As it marked what we had foolishly believed was the end, and for our brother, it became his new beginning.
A cycle of death and rebirth.
When the summons had reached us, a whisper of dark magic carried through blood, we had answered immediately. Our witch had been the one to help us anchor the call, binding the ritual so we could trace the pull when he arrived. Everything had been ready. Every detail accounted for.
And yet…
“Why has he not yet shown himself?” Tal asked, clearly ready for the fight and not questioning what had led us to this point like I was.
“I don’t know,” I admitted before I felt it. There was a hesitation in the air, a pause that stretched longer than it should have. The shadows were still, and the graveyard too quiet.
Something wasn’t right.
The pull I felt from him flickered once, sharp, then faded. Like a thread pulled taut, then suddenly cut. I frowned, turning my head toward the distant city skyline.
“Something’s wrong,” I said, and Tal’s eyes narrowed.
“What?” He asked, but I didn’t answer. Because even as the question left his lips, I felt it. A ripple of pain. Faint but undeniable. And through the echo of blood and bond, I heard a name break from the depths of my brother’s mind.
Nessa.
“Fuck!”I snapped at the same time Tal growled, having felt it for himself.
“Shit, she’s in danger.” Tal breathed, his eyes going wide.
I clenched my fists until my knuckles ached, fury and helplessness clawing through me.
“Fuck!”The sound tore from my chest again as I slammed my fist into the nearest gravestone. The marble cracked under the force, splintering as the darkness inside me broke loose. It spilled out, coiling across the ground in black tendrils that hissed and evaporated in the mist.
He felt it too, I knew he did.
The link wasn’t just between us anymore. She was the thread now, the living tether binding all three of us together.
“You know what this means,” Tal said quietly, his voice a grim acknowledgement. I swallowed hard, though I already knew the truth that waited in the space between us.
“He’s tasted her blood,” I ground out, my voice low and shaking with fury as I forced myself to continue,
“He’s made the connection.” Tal’s expression darkened, though his tone softened in reluctant understanding.
“Then she’s unharmed. Or at least… he hasn’t been the cause.”
“No, he wouldn’t. Not now. Not if he’s truly bonded with her.” I agreed, shaking my head.
“Isn’t that better than the alternative?” Tal asked carefully, and I looked away, jaw tight.
“Better, yes. But it also means she’s his fated too. And if she’s his… he’ll never let her go, Tal.” He nodded slowly, the truth weighing heavily between us.
“He’s a triplet, Vic. Despite everything, that bond runs through all of us. If she’s ours, she’s his too. The gods made it that way.” I hated that he was right. I hated knowing our lives had just become infinitely more complicated.
But I couldn’t deny the relief that crept in with the anger because if she was his, then he would protect her. Against anyone. Against everything. Which meant that must have been why the connection had been broken. Why he vanished from our reach. He had felt her pain, her fear, and he had gone to her. Meaning all that my brother and I could do now was wait among the dead, praying to gods who no longer listened that he would reach her in time.
That same darkness we inherited that day still lived inside us. It was the legacy of that cursed bloodline, one we never dared to share with Nessa. We had both decided long ago that she didn’t need to know the full extent of what ran through our veins.
She had only ever seen a glimpse of it when we saved her from the witch. A creature who, we later discovered, had been working for our brother all along.
As for Vas, it seemed that he had spent the decades feeding his darkness instead of fighting it, letting it grow and fester until it became something sentient, something cruel. The curse that should have died with him long ago had somehow become his strength.
“Fuck, I feel helpless.”I hissed, my voice raw with frustration. Tal’s hand came down on my shoulder, firm, grounding.
