Chapter 98: The Night Before
{IRIS}
I raced through the hallways without stopping, boots striking stone so softly it felt as if the castle itself was swallowing the sound.
The Shadow Guard glided behind me, silent as a second darkness peeled away from the first. Its presence clung to my spine, cold and constant, yet oddly reassuring.
And the necklace at my throat burned faintly against my skin, a steady reminder that I would be protected.
Somehow, impossibly, I felt certain I would find Caroline.
And that certainty was the only thing keeping me from breaking down.
I flung open doors along the corridor without hesitation. One after another. The locks splintered beneath my hand, hinges groaning as if protesting the act, but I did not slow.
What waited behind those doors was a procession of horrors that layered themselves upon my mind whether I wanted them there or not.
In one room, vampires crowded over a single woman, their mouths red, their eyes glazed with rapture as if they were drinking something holy rather than her blood.
In another, bodies—men and women tangled together in sweat-soaked sheets, limbs knotted in indulgence, pleasure blurred into something indistinguishable from violence.
Further down, a vampire restrained a creature of the night—something half-formed, wings broken, sobbing as silver instruments carved glowing sigils into its flesh.
And then there was a room where a man sat in a high-backed chair, his posture relaxed, almost bored, while women knelt at his feet, barking softly on command.
I slammed that door shut harder than necessary.
Such... depravity.
It crawled under my skin, clung to my senses, soaked into the very air of the castle like rot beneath perfume.
I forced myself forward, jaw clenched, nails biting into my palms. Caroline was my priority right now. Nothing else did.
I slowed only long enough to draw in a breath.
The smell nearly brought me to my knees.
Blood—old and new—mingled with smoke, alcohol, sweat, perfume, incense, and something sickly sweet that made my stomach twist.
The stench was overwhelming, a thousand lives crushed into one suffocating breath. My senses rebelled at once, flaring painfully, but I pushed through it.
Focus.
Filter it out.
I closed my eyes for half a heartbeat and reached inward, past the noise, past the filth, until there it was—
Her scent.
Fear-laced, trembling, unmistakable.
"Found you," I whispered, already moving.
I followed it down the corridor and into a side passage where the torches burned lower, shadows clinging to the walls like grasping fingers.
The door at the end. Luckily it wasn’t lock like the others. Apparently, vampires didn’t need lock doors and didn’t have any concept of privacy.
I smashed into it without slowing. The door burst open.
Caroline lay bound to the bed, her wrists and ankles secured with ropes, her body rigid with terror.
Several vampires crowded around her, pinning her down, their fangs on her arms and legs. Her nightgown—thank the merciful goddess—was still intact, though twisted and wrinkled and soaked from her blood.
Relief and fury collided inside my chest so violently I nearly screamed.
"Get off her!" I roared.
I hurled a pouch of garlic powder into their faces.
The effect was immediate.
The vampires shrieked, stumbling back, claws scraping uselessly at their own burning eyes and skin. Smoke curled from their flesh as they howled, voices cracking with pain and rage.
It was enough.
I was at Caroline’s side in an instant, ripping at the restraints with bare hands. The bindings resisted as they fought against me—but strength surged through my limbs, raw and feral. The ropes snapped one by one.
The collar around her throat, however, did not yield.
Arcane-resistant.
Sturdy enough to hold werewolves and vampires alike.
Keys. Only keys would remove it.
And they would not leave those lying around.
"Mmmf!" Caroline’s eyes widened as she realized it was me. Her scream was muffled by the cloth forced between her lips.
I tore it free at once.
She gasped, sucking in air as though she had been drowning. She looked so weak, and on the verge of fainting.
Were they going to suck her dry?!
"Behind you!" she cried.
Instinct took over.
I dove aside just as something massive crashed down where I had been standing. Stone shattered. Dust filled the air. I rolled across the floor, coming up hard against the wall, breath knocked from my lungs.
Valerius stood before me.
Tall. Immaculate. Smiling.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, amusement curling his lips. "Look who’s here. Did Sol finish with you already?"
I forced myself upright, ignoring the way my heart pounded against my ribs. "What are you doing, Valerius?" I demanded. "Caroline belongs to Lord Vladimir. She’s his human blood bank. How dare you—how dare any of you lay hands on her?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Caroline struggling to free herself further. One arm was loose now. Not enough—but closer.
I needed their attention on me.
A sharp laugh echoed through the room.
"Well said," Morgana’s voice purred as she stepped from the shadows. "Though a bit naïve."
Of course.
Just great.
"Vladimir doesn’t fall short on blood banks," Morgana continued lazily. "Once she lost her virginity, she was finished. Disposable. The fun was only just beginning—until you ruined it."
Around her, the remaining vampires rose to their feet.
All red eyes.
All bared fangs.
I tightened my grip on the obsidian dagger at my side.
"Are you really going to defy Lord Vladimir?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.
"Defy him?" Morgana laughed. "I’m doing him a favor. That human bitch doesn’t deserve him—not even as a human blood reserve." Her gaze turning to dots, pinning me in place. "I don’t know how you escaped Sol... but you won’t be leaving here alive. Get her."
They lunged.
Sebastian’s training saved my life.
I moved before thought could catch up, body remembering what fear would have paralyzed.
Compared to Sebastian, these vampires were clumsy, overconfident, sloppy. I ducked under grasping claws, twisted out of reach, and struck.
The obsidian blade sang.
One clean cut, and a vampire turned to ash.
Another strike—another scream cut short.
The dagger was death to them, absolute and final.
