Chapter 26: Stormbound Secrets
{VLADIMIR}
"We have not found it, my lord. The world is vast—it could be anywhere."
"Tales of your incompetence do not interest me, Kaelvar."
My voice cut through the chamber like a cold blade, sharp enough to make the candlelight tremble. "What I require are results."
Kaelvar faltered. His eyelids fluttered, as though a great weight pressed upon his throat. "I—I am sorry, my lord."
"It lies in the Pacific," I murmured, gaze drifting toward the map sprawled open on the table. "Or the Arctic seas. My visions are sparse, fractured... yet they always end in water. An endless drowning beneath dark waves."
Fragments of memory—slipped through my grasp like smoke each time I closed my eyes.
I shut the ancient book resting in my hands, its worn leather whispering against my fingers, and turned fully toward him. My stare pinned him where he knelt, frozen under its weight.
"Do not show yourself before me again," I said softly—too softly—"until you find it."
Kaelvar swallowed, bowed so deeply his forehead brushed the marble, and vanished into the shadows as if they had consumed him whole.
The door had scarcely closed when Sebastian entered. As always, he moved with an elegance that bordered on silence. He pushed a golden trolley before him, polished to a mirror shine. Upon it lay a delicate porcelain cup, steam curling languidly from its rim.
He bowed as he set it upon the table. "This is fresh, my lord. The blood of a pure, untouched maiden. Surely it shall soothe your wearied mind."
I exhaled, a long, slow breath, and lifted the cup. The scent rose at once—rich, metallic, potent. By any standard, this should have been perfection. Yet the fragrance made my brow tighten rather than ease.
It did not compare.
I drank, letting the warmth coat my tongue, slide down my throat, settle in the hollow of my chest.
Still... nothing.
No satisfaction.
No relief.
Only frustration tightening like a fist around my ribs.
"Something displeases you, my lord?" Sebastian’s tone remained calm, but curiosity glimmered beneath.
"No."
A lie as cold as the storm outside. "I am merely... tired."
The truth gnawed at me like a feral thing.
Ever since I had tasted her—just once—I had not known peace.
Iris’s blood had shattered every measure of discipline I possessed. It awakened a hunger so violent, so complete, that for a moment I had nearly lost myself—nearly let the demon within seize control.
And I, of all creatures, should never teeter so close to that edge.
Her blood was unlike any I had encountered in centuries.
She was unlike any being I had encountered in centuries.
A wolf with a sealed beast—bound so tightly that even I, with all my knowledge and command, could not untangle it.
No scent clung to her skin. No trace of wolfish musk, no signature aura. She healed with a speed that defied even vampiric regeneration. Her blood carried power—raw, untamed, and intoxicating. It gave temporary strength to whoever drunk it.
If she ever fell into the wrong hands . . .
Chaos would sweep the supernatural world like wildfire.
Sebastian stood quietly, yet I felt the weight of his unspoken thoughts. At last, he asked what had lingered on his tongue for days.
"What do you intend for Lady Iris?"
My eyelids lowered, shadows gathering at the corners of my vision. "I have erased the memories of every vampire within this estate," I replied. "Save you. She will remain safe."
Sebastian did not show surprise, but his shoulders tightened. "And yet, you gifted her the rarest Blood Veil vial. A single bottle costs millions to produce and even more to acquire. Was that... wise, my lord?"
I arched a brow. "Are you questioning my judgment? And since when has House Nightborne ever known the concept of lacking coin?"
He bowed his head slightly. "Never, my lord. I speak only out of concern. That girl... she is not ordinary. Not by blood nor by nature. Creating those vials drains the coven’s stores greatly."
A faint smirk tugged at my lips. "You fear I am spending too much on her?"
Sebastian’s mouth tightened. "Surely you jest, my Lord. The Nightborne coffers have never known drought. I worry only that she may become the source of unforeseen misfortune."
"Quite the contrary," I murmured, turning my gaze toward the storm-darkened window. Rain battered the glass relentlessly, as though it sought entry into my sanctuary. "She will not bring ruin. She will bring answers. Iris is the key to everything."
Sebastian’s expression flickered, but he bowed. "Then I shall ensure she is tended to with utmost care."
He withdrew, leaving me alone with my thoughts, with the haunting echo of her name.
Iris.
Vampires do not sleep—not often, and never lightly. But the mind wearies even when the body does not. I rose from my chair and strode to the towering window, the hem of my coat whispering against the polished marble floor.
Beyond the glass, the night raged—violent, beautiful, and merciless.
Lightning spilled across the sky, illuminating my face for the briefest instant.
Yet no reflection greeted me.
Not a shadow.
Not a shape.
Only the storm.
I stared into the darkness, and my thoughts, unbidden, drifted to her.
If she was to serve her purpose, she needed to grow stronger.
Far stronger.
For in the Coven of Midnight, weakness did not simply invite death—
It demanded it.
And I... I would not allow her to die.
Not yet.
Not until I understood why her blood had tasted like fate itself.
====
{IRIS}
I woke to a soft knock upon my door.
My eyes fluttered open, disoriented. Time held little meaning in this mansion—an eternal night where no sun rose to divide one hour from the next. My limbs felt heavy, as though I had slept for days.
A familiar presence lingered just outside. Cold. Controlled.
"Miss Iris, my lord wishes to see you," came Sebastian’s composed voice.
"I—I shall be there at once," I managed, scrambling upright.
Panic flared through me. Lord Val did not wait. He did not summon twice.
I rushed to the closet, snatching one of the vials he had left for me. With trembling fingers, I uncorked it and swallowed the contents swiftly.
A cold numbness slid down my throat, erasing the scent of blood before it could drift into the halls. I had no intention of walking through a manor filled with vampires without that protection—not while I still bled.
