Alexander’s POV
With my fangs buried deep in the fragile flesh of her throat, anchored against the frantic, dying flutter of her pulse, the Vault plunged into an absolute, suffocating darkness. The overhead lights had shattered from the sheer force of Lilian’s scream, leaving only the violent, warring clash of magical auras to illuminate the crypt.
To my left, Constantine stood as a pillar of blinding white light, his hands pressed flat against the granite slab to anchor her soul to the physical plane. Above us, Elijah’s hands burned with a fierce, emerald fire that held the barrier intact against the concussive shockwaves of the Change, while in the center of it all, I poured my golden, blinding life force straight into her veins.
The taste of her blood was a jarring sensory paradox. B
