Blood Bond
977 Words
Dominic’s POV
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, strong and dark, cut through the lingering scent of last night’s adrenaline. Dominic descended the grand staircase of the mansion, a subtle weariness etched around his eyes despite his usual polished demeanor. The dining hall was already abuzz, a rare sight before noon. Luke was attempting to toast a bagel to a crisp, a task he was failing spectacularly at, while Annabelle meticulously buttered a scone, looking far too composed for someone who’d just faced down a corrupted coven. Emma and Hayden were huddled together over a bowl of fruit, their low murmurs punctuated by soft laughter.
He grabbed a mug and filled it to the brim with black coffee, letting the steam warm his face. Hayden looked up, her green eyes, though still a little shadowed, held a spark he hadn’t seen in a while.
"Morning, your Highness," she quipped, a small, wry smile playing on her lips. "Decided to grace us with your presence, have we?"
Dominic just grunted, taking a long, fortifying sip. "Someone has to keep an eye on you lot before you burn the place down with your culinary experiments." He gestured vaguely at Luke's smoking bagel.
Hayden snorted, nudging a plate of pastries toward him with her elbow. "Says the man who thinks a good breakfast involves raw blood and existential angst."
He managed a faint smirk, selecting a croissant. "I'm a creature of refined tastes, Snail. You wouldn't understand."
She rolled her eyes, but the easy banter felt… surprisingly natural. For centuries, his interactions had been measured, calculated, devoid of genuine warmth. Yet, with Hayden, it was different. This lighthearted back-and-forth, this easy acceptance – it was a foreign, yet oddly comfortable sensation. Perhaps, for the first time in his five hundred and twenty-five years, he was experiencing something akin to true friendship. He'd never really had a 'best friend' before. The thought was both unsettling and strangely poignant.
The others joined in, their laughter filling the hall, a temporary shield against the recent horrors. They spoke of Annabelle’s questionable singing voice after a celebratory drink, and Luke’s uncanny ability to misplace anything smaller than a sofa cushion. For a fleeting hour, the world felt almost normal.
As the remnants of breakfast were cleared, the previous night's grim reality slowly crept back in. The conversation shifted, the lightness replaced by a heavy, shared purpose. Dominic turned to Hayden, his earlier casualness replaced by a focused intensity.
"Hayden," he began, his voice low, drawing the attention of the others. "You mentioned your Hexter blood, your connection to Sareena's lineage. Isn't there a way... a magical way... you could trace her? Through that shared blood?"
Hayden's usually expressive face clouded over, a visible shiver running through her. She hugged her arms instinctively, her gaze dropping to the table. "I… I tried," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, almost as if the words themselves brought back the chilling sensations. "After Edward… after we saw her. I tried a blood tracing spell. I just… I had to know."
She took a shaky breath. "But it wasn’t like any magic I’d ever felt. It was… bizarre, it took me to some sort of a nightmare. I found myself in this incredibly dark, small room. I couldn't move much, like my limbs were heavy, drained. And there was only this tiny, grimy window." Her eyes, usually so vibrant, seemed distant, staring into a memory. "Through it, I could see… them. Everything I saw was evil. A corruption rolling off them. And they had these long, pointed ears. And black veins. Pulsing, visible against their skin." She shuddered again, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. "The whole experience felt like some kind of twisted trap. I… I think I am new to magic, I must be doing something wrong."
She opened her eyes, a hint of shame in their green depths. "I didn’t tell anyone. Only my very close circle knows I have Hexter blood. I didn't want to draw attention to it, or seem like I was failing."
Annabelle, who had been listening intently, her brow furrowed in concentration, finally spoke. She pushed a stray curl behind her ear, her fingers already stained with ink from the grimoires she'd been poring over. "A vision, Hayden? That you experienced first-hand, not just saw?" A spark of realization ignited in her gaze. "That's not failure. That's… a new kind of connection. A different sort of tracing." She pushed herself up from the table, already moving towards the shelves that lined the walls of the dining area, pulling down a dusty, leather-bound tome. "My grimoire mentions specific tracing spells. They delve deeper than standard blood magic. They aim for the soul, for the true essence, not just the physical form."
She flipped through the brittle pages. "If Sareena’s soul is indeed 'locked away' or 'replaced,' as Dominic’s mother suggested, then your previous attempt probably hit the entity inhabiting her body. But with a different approach, a true blood tracing magic…" Annabelle looked up, her eyes gleaming with renewed hope. "We could bypass the corruption. We could find Sarena."
A shared breath rippled through the room. The exhaustion that had clung to them moments before seemed to dissipate, replaced by a surge of desperate, urgent hope. It was a long shot, a desperate gamble, but for the first time in what felt like an forever, they had a direction or an idea of a direction. A potential way forward.
Dominic rose, his jaw set, his gaze firm. "Then that's what we do. Hayden. Annabelle. We will find Sarena."
Hayden met his gaze, a flicker of fierce determination in her eyes. "Let’s do it."
The heavy silence of the dining hall was broken by the rustle of old parchment as Annabelle reopened her grimoire, a new purpose filling the air.
- Writer
