Kane
950 Words
The fire had long burned low, casting only faint orange licks across the floor of my study. The glass of untouched bloodwine sat in my hand, more for habit than need. Hayden had left an hour ago, maybe more. Time moved differently when your mind was unraveling.
I sat still, in the deep leather chair I had occupied since we arrived back in Khelam. The city’s hum barely reached my estate, but I could feel the shift in the air—magic growing darker, thicker. The world outside had changed in just three months.
And I hadn’t changed fast enough.
She was there tonight.
Sarena.
Or something wearing her body like a skin that didn’t quite fit. Her presence was warped, decayed—yet beneath it, I’d felt the faintest flicker of our bond. A bond I’d never truly understood until it was too late.
I didn’t even know she was my mate until after she and Hayden had saved my life.
That’s the kind of irony fate seems to love.
As a vampire, the mate bond doesn’t manifest—not in the way wolves feel it. I just thought she haunted my thoughts because I had some ridiculous infatuation. I'd avoided her on purpose. A crush was manageable. A full-blown attachment? Dangerous.
Especially for someone like me.
It wasn’t until the night Hayden and Sarena saved my life—when Kane’s soul was fused into mine—that I felt it.
That gravitational pull. That *certainty.*
My mate.
And I never told her how I really felt about her even before the bond. I didn’t get the chance. Because later, Edward took her. And everything I've done since has been a poor excuse for reparation.
The space inside me twisted. Not guilt. Not grief.
Something colder. Something hollow.
*Kane stirred.*
*Finally.*
His voice came like a thunderclap in a dry canyon—deep, rough, and filled with disdain.
*Well, well. Look who finally has something to cry about.*
“Not in the mood,” I muttered, setting the glass down and rubbing my temple.
*You never are. That’s why we’re in this mess.*
“I wasn’t the one sleeping for three months.”
*I wasn’t sleeping, you jackass. I was stuck. Paralyzed. Because your guilt is so thick, it’s like walking through tar.*
Kane’s presence surged in the back of my mind—like claws dragging across old stone. Always dramatic. Always too loud. And somehow… comforting.
“She's not gone,” I whispered, voice raw. “She was there. I felt her.”
*You felt what’s *left.* That wasn’t Sarena. Not fully.*
“She’s still in there. She has to be.”
Kane scoffed. *You don’t get to say that like you knew her. You barely spoke to her when she was here. You kept your distance like a coward, remember?*
I flinched. “I was trying to protect her.”
*From what? You?*
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
He kept going. Kane always did. *She used to come by with Hayden just to see you. She never said it out loud, but she waited. Hoped you’d talk. You never did.*
“You’re not helping.”
*I’m not here to help. I’m here to remind you of what you threw away.*
Silence sat between us for a moment, heavy and sharp.
Then, softer—*I felt her too, Vampire. Barely. Like someone crying behind a locked door. I think whatever that thing is… it’s keeping her soul prisoner.*
I stared at the fire, the heat doing nothing to the cold inside me.
“What if we can’t save her?”
*Then we kill the thing wearing her skin. And maybe—just maybe—we find a way to bring what’s left of her back.*
“And if there’s nothing left?”
Kane was quiet for once.
Then he said, almost reluctantly, *Then you kill it anyway. For her.*
I closed my eyes. The weight of centuries pressed down on me like stones on my chest. I had lived a long time. Made deals. Fought wars. Outlasted betrayals. But nothing—not even death—felt as unbearable as this: the knowing I never gave Sarena what she deserved. Never told her. Never tried.
And now she was a prisoner in her own body.
I rose from my chair, the motion automatic. My study was filled with maps, relics, scrolls from a dozen magical circles. Notes from rogue seers. Old grimoires I wasn’t supposed to own.
I had spent every night these past three months researching Edward’s rituals, his bloodline, the coven he had resurrected from the dirt. But now I had a new focus:
The corruption of souls.
What could twist a being like Sarena into… *that*?
Behind me, Kane growled low. *We’ll need help. Real help. The kind that doesn’t sit on council chairs or bow to Edwards’ leash.*
I nodded. “The kind that lives in the in-between. People who still owe us favors.”
*And who aren’t afraid to touch the forbidden.*
My lips curled. For the first time in weeks, there was clarity behind my eyes. “Good. Because I’m done playing.”
I crossed the room, pulled open the heavy drawer beneath the bookshelf, and took out a book I swore I’d never open again. Leather-bound, inked in blood, humming with old, dangerous power.
The Grimoire of Hollowed Flame.
I whispered the key phrase to break its binding seal. The room shifted—like something ancient had just opened its eyes.
*Kane hummed.* *Now *this* is more like it.*
I would get her back. Whatever it took. No matter the cost.
Even if it meant burning down the world she once loved.
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- Writer
