Bound by the Blood That Betrayed Us

Chapter Three: The Siphoning Vault

Vane’s smile did not reach his eyes. He stood in the dim corridor with his hands neatly folded inside his heavy velvet sleeves, looking entirely too comfortable for a man standing in a subterranean archive.

"You have no jurisdiction in this sector, Vane," Cassiano growled, his blade leveled at the old man's chest. His silver-flecked eyes narrowed into a dangerous squint.

"Jurisdiction is such an old-fashioned word, Enforcer," Vane replied smoothly, taking a slow step forward. "Especially when the very foundation of the southern territories is currently rotting from the inside out."

Moara stepped out from behind Cassiano’s shoulder, her grip tightening on the hidden skinning knife at her thigh. "You look entirely too pleased for a man whose guards are about to bleed out on these stone floors."

Vane chuckled, a dry, papery sound that scraped against the cold walls. "My dear, the guards aren't bleeding out. They are simply... ascending."

Before Cassiano could lunge, the heavy steel door of the archive slammed shut on its own, its mechanical locks engaging with a definitive, deafening click. A series of muffled, sickening thuds vibrated through the floorboards directly beneath their boots.

"The vault is sealing," Cassiano muttered, rushing to the door and driving his sword against the steel. The metal hissed, but the lock held firm.

The air inside the room suddenly plummeted in temperature, turning their breath into white mist. The ancient leather ledgers on the central table began to vibrate, and the synthetic rune behind the glass display case ignited with a blinding, sickly violet light.

A sharp, agonizing spike tore through Moara's chest. She gasped, stumbling backward against the shelves as the fated-bond flared into a white-hot fire.

"It's a siphoning circuit," Moara panted, pressing a hand to her sternum. "He's using the bond as a bridge to drain us."