The blood-soaked realm enveloped Thaige as she moved silently through it, her thoughts a storm of confusion and rage. That damn pink fish—Delphinus—had lied to her. He told her Kaelen was her brother, but none of this made sense. If he was her brother, why wasn’t he a vampire? The moment they first met, she had clearly heard his heart beating, pulsing with life. Not the slow, cold rhythm of the undead, but a strong, steady beat. And now, as if to add insult to injury, he had just used light magic—a blinding flash of energy, a lightning bolt that crackled with impossible power.
A vampire wielding light magic? No. That couldn’t be.
As Thaige swam through the blood domain, a crimson world that shimmered and swirled around her like a living ocean, her thoughts grew darker. The next part disconnected her from her control over her fledglings. Yet, oddly enough, she could still feel them—like faint pulses in the back of her mind, their presence hovering just above the surface, functional despite the distance. Something was wrong with the link, but it wasn’t severed.
Her gaze locked onto Kaelen as she approached him, the blood shifting around her like a living tide, her anger bubbling. This fake half-brother wasn’t Valerian’s kindred. He couldn’t be. Everything she had been told was a lie. But there was one way to be sure.
Rising silently from the blood domain behind Kaelen, Thaige still wore his visage—his features like a mocking mirror of the boy standing unaware in front of her. Her muscles tensed as she moved, every predatory instinct in her body screaming for vengeance. She lunged, grabbing him from behind, her fangs sinking deep into his neck with feral precision.
Checkmate.
As she began to drink, the blood rushed into her mouth—a taste unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was rich, powerful, tinged with an essence that made her body quiver with anticipation. But then, something went terribly wrong.
A sickening realization washed over her.
The blood... it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel like the sweet sustenance she had expected. It felt foreign—wrong in every possible way. Her throat tightened, her fangs retracting from his skin as she staggered back. Panic shot through her as the blood she had consumed began to course through her veins, racing toward her heart.
Too late.
The moment the blood reached her heart, pain exploded through her body, violent and unbearable, like a thousand blades stabbing her at once. The agony shot through every nerve, seizing her muscles in a grotesque spasm. She dropped to the ground, convulsing, her hands clawing at the dirt as she writhed in torment.
The pain was unlike anything she had ever endured. It was burning and freezing, sharp and electrifying. Her mind was drowning in it, and in that chaos, her grip on her disguise faltered. The mask of Kaelen’s visage melted away, revealing her true form—her original face twisted in agony.
Then, the pain shifted again. The burning stopped, replaced by an almost absurd sensation. Tickling. It spread through her limbs, maddening, like her body didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. And in the midst of it all, she felt it—her heart.
Her dead heart.
It started to beat again. Slowly at first, weak and irregular, as if unsure of itself. Then stronger. Louder. The rhythmic thrum of life pulsing through her veins, faster and faster until it was undeniable.
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But she was undead. This was impossible. Her heart was beating, thrumming with the vitality of the living, but she was not alive. She couldn’t be.
And then, she felt something else.
A connection, inescapable—binding her to him. To Kaelen. The same half-brother she had doubted, the same one she had tried to kill. Her breath caught as she realized the truth, the horrifying truth. He was a vampire, and not just any vampire.
He had done the impossible.
He had made her, an elder vampire, into his thrall.
Absurd.
Her mind rejected it, screamed against it, but the reality was inescapable. She could feel it—his influence, his presence in her mind, stronger than anything she had ever known. He had bound her, turned her into something that should not exist. It was insanity. A fledgling binding an elder? It defied every law of vampiric existence.
Kaelen stood frozen, his mind racing as the full weight of what had just happened began to sink in. Whatever the imposter had tried, it had completely backfired. He could feel it—the undeniable connection that now linked them, a thread of influence that should never have been possible.
She was his thrall.
It didn’t make sense. Everything he knew about vampires, everything he'd learned, told him that this kind of bond couldn't happen between an elder and a fledgling, let alone with someone like her. Yet there it was, as clear as day, thrumming in the space between them. His power over her was true, unmistakable.
He glanced down at her, lying dazed and vulnerable in the middle of the blood-slicked street. Her body twitched slightly, recovering from whatever transformation had just wrecked her. Ragnar, still in his lycan form, took that moment of weakness to lunge for her. His eyes burned with the desire for revenge, claws outstretched to rip her apart.
But before he could strike, she reacted. The imposter’s hand twitched, and a shockwave of telekinetic energy slammed Ragnar into the alley wall with brutal force. He hit the bricks hard, a growl escaping him as he slumped to the ground.
She was still powerful—still dangerous.
Kaelen watched as she slowly lifted herself up from the ground, staring down at her hands as if they were foreign objects. Blood dripped from her fingers, her whole body trembling. Whatever had happened to her, whatever had just taken place, it had clearly shaken her to the core.
He had to know. He couldn’t keep guessing or pretending this wasn’t happening. So, he stepped forward, his voice steady but filled with tension. "Who are you?"
The question seemed to hit her like a physical blow. She flinched, her face contorting with visible resistance, as if she were fighting something deep within herself. But despite the struggle, the words slipped out.
"Thaige Drakov," she spat, her voice bitter. "Daughter of Valerian Drakov. And his sire."
Kaelen’s blood ran cold.
He took a step back, stunned. This wasn’t just some random vampire, some imposter trying to manipulate him. This woman was his sister. And not just any sister—she was Valerian's daughter. His mind reeled, trying to process what that meant. If she had turned Valerian, that made her his blood sister, not just a clan sister. But how? How could this be? Where had she been all his life? Why had he never heard of her before?
Before he could ask, Ragnar roared again, surging to his feet and charging her in blind fury. His claws tore through the air, aiming for her throat.
Thaige barely flicked her wrist this time, and Ragnar was thrown back once more, crashing into the alley wall with a bone-jarring thud. The force of her telekinesis left him slumped on the ground, dazed and beaten.
Kaelen’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her, unsettled by her raw power. She was clearly an elder—far stronger than anything he had faced before—but she was also something else now. Something bound to him, linked in ways that defied reason.
Suddenly, a voice broke the tension. Rachel, who had been lingering on the edge of the chaos, casually hoisted the grenade launcher onto her shoulder and called out, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"What a lovely family reunion and all, but how long are you going to let your sister stay naked?"
Kaelen blinked, momentarily snapped out of his daze. He looked down at Thaige, still fully exposed from her earlier transformation. Blood and sweat clung to her skin, her expression shifting from fury to an almost ridiculous embarrassment.
The absurdity of the situation hit everyone at once. Even the fledglings, who had been frozen in fear, stared awkwardly at the scene in stunned silence, as if the world had flipped upside down.
Kaelen swallowed, his mind still spinning. What the hell had he gotten himself into?