The stench of blood hung in the air, but the tunnels felt colder, more suffocating than ever. My breath came in shallow gasps, each inhale a struggle, my chest tight with panic.

The only thing I could think of was to hold onto the little girl.

Alec set a hand on my shoulder and pulled me against him. "It's okay," he breathed. "It's over now."

Despite being covered in blood and breathing heavily, Bastien approached me like I we were back in our bedchamber. Tenderly. Gently.

As he came closer, Alec released me, falling back behind us, disappearing from my thoughts just as quickly as he'd entered them as my mate touched my face.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I cataloged his features. His pale hair. His gentle eyes. His soft mouth. Knowing I could've lost him to that big alpha wolf was more than unsettling. I'd wanted my magick to work–to protect him–but I'd been frozen in panic.

Thankfully, Tyson had saved him.

"I think so," I said.

He stroked my cheek, and I felt the warm trail of blood it left behind. But I didn't cower or swoon. This was the blood sacrificed to keep me safe.

"We need to keep moving," he told me. His voice was sharp, urgent, but not unkind. It snapped me out of my haze. But the fear still churned in my stomach.

I squeezed the hand of one of the little girls, her tiny fingers cold and trembling against mine. She looked up at me, her face streaked with dirt, eyes wide with terror. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, but the words were a lie.

I didn't know if there was a safe place for us. The tunnels hadn't been.

Together, we continued on. Torches were lit to light the way, our fifty-some soldiers trailing behind. Weapons drawn.

I had the strange sense that we were moving in the wrong direction. Instead of continuing on, we should turn back. But I kept my fears behind my teeth. I had to trust Bastien.

We stumbled into a wider passage, and the dim glow of torches flickered like weak flames fighting against the dark. The warmth should've felt like a relief, but it was nothing more than a hollow comfort.

Just as I allowed myself a brief, false hope that the rest of our journey in the dark would be uninterrupted, a figure stepped out from the shadows.

My heart skipped a beat. I pulled the girl closer, my body instinctively moving to shield her. Bastien's growl rumbled beside me, deep and low.

"Show yourself," he ordered.

With a whispered word and a burst of magickal light, a woman emerged from the darkness. Her hair, the color of burned sugar, flowed down her back in wild waves.

One look at her, and I knew what she was–a dark witch.

But this was no ordinary witch. She was from the Lawless Lands.

I should've felt the weight of fear. But the dread I felt for the wolves still choked me, and the fear of this woman felt distant, less immediate.

"Ah," she cooed, her voice a melody that sent shivers down my spine. "Lost souls."

"Chastity," Bastien said, his voice tight with recognition.

I shot him a quick look. He knew her?

She let out a quiet, throaty laugh that made my skin prickle. Then her gaze shifted toward me. Lingering. Assessing.

"And who's this, Bastien?" Her lips twisted into a knowing smile. "Your new toy?"

Toy?

I rolled my shoulders back, trying to shake off the weight of her stare.

The anger seemed to call my magick

"My name is Claire," I said, answering before Bastien could.

"She's my..." He hesitated, and his eyes flicked toward me, a flash of something I couldn't name in them. "Sanguine partner."

It was a deliberate omission. I knew that. But it still stung, sharper than it should've. I was his mate. His wife. The one he loved.

But he couldn't be honest because no matter how much magick I had, I was still his liability. The dark vampire prince couldn't tell her he loved me. Not if he wanted to keep his credibility.

And while I understood, a growing part of me didn't want to love him in the shadows. I didn't want people to think I was just his food.

I couldn't help but wonder if that wasn't exactly what this witch had picked up on—if she sensed the distance between us as she looked me over like I was just another toy.

The witch held my gaze, and for a moment, I wondered what she saw when she looked at me. Did she think me a helpless human? Or could she tell I was witch-born? That I had some power thrumming in my veins?

Her eyes flicked down to my chest, and her smile widened into something predatory.

"Quite the pair you make," she said, eyes dancing with amusement. "Looks like you've had a hell of an adventure."

I hated that Bastien knew her. This witch, with her tightly laced corset, ample cleavage, and easy confidence.

Had this been where his fascination with the darkness came from?

As soon as the question rose, I batted it away.

Bastien's jaw tightened, his fangs showing in the flickering torchlight. "We need your help," he said, urgency threading through his voice, a note of desperation that didn't belong in his usual calm, calculated demeanor.

"I can see that," Chastity said, her smile fading. She took a step closer, her presence closing the space between us like a weight, like a promise of chaos. She let out a giggle. "But what I'm wondering is... what's in it for me?"

The air felt colder now. Every word she spoke seemed to draw something out of me, like the pull of gravity. The space between us was too close, her presence far too unnerving.

"Enough with the drama, Chas," Natalia snapped, her voice brittle with impatience. "We just escaped a pack of werewolves."

Chastity's smile faltered, but only for a moment, before it transformed into something colder, sharper. "Ah, the wolves. They've grown bolder under their new leader."

Bastien's jaw tightened, a flicker of something dark in his eyes. "New leader?"

"Shayla," Chastity murmured, her voice lowering to a whisper as if sharing a secret too dangerous to speak aloud. "The wolf shifter who's taken charge. Let's just say... she's a different breed of moon witch."

"What happened to Hector?" Bastien asked.

A non-existent breeze fluttered through the witch's hair. "Hector is dead."

I felt the words hit him like one of the wolf's paws. Catching him by surprise and setting him off balance. His face paled, and his hand tightened around mine, the tremor barely noticeable.

He had trusted Hector. Had relied on Hector's alliances to broker peace. Told Tyson and anyone who would listen that Hector's respect was so important. And now... Hector was gone.

I looked around the tunnels, wondering what all this meant for us.

"Who is this Shayla?" Natalia pressed, her voice low and steely. "And what does she want?"

Chastity seemed to preen with delight as she shifted her gaze from Natalia to Bastien.

"She doesn't want vampires as protectors," Chastity's voice darkened, her eyes glinting with an unsettling gleam. "She wants you out of the way entirely. She's rallying her coven, and it's only a matter of time before she strikes."

The air between us seemed to freeze, a chill settling into my bones that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"She can rally all she likes, but she can't cross over the Bloody Treaty's protection."

"Says you," Chastity teased.

Could that be true? Or was she playing on our fear? I knew the barrier must have some magick attached to it, especially with the way things shifted inside me after we crossed over it.

The little girl tugged on my skirt, breaking me from my thoughts, and whispered, "I want to go home."

My heart hurt as I took in the scared look in her eyes.

"We need to move to our stronghold," Chastity urged. "It's safer there, and I can share more."

Wait–she wanted us to go with her?

I might've come a long way in trusting dark witches, but something didn't feel right. If this witch had been waiting for us, why didn't she help fight off the werewolves?

Bastien urged me forward, but the little girl clung to my skirts, her small fingers digging into the fabric like she was afraid to let go.

"Please, take me home," the girl whimpered. 

Chastity turned to me, her voice sharp. "Not them. They stay behind."

I froze, my stomach lurching as disbelief flared in my chest.

"What?" I demanded.

Chastity's expression remained cool, but something in her gaze chilled me to my core.

Bastien's grip tightened on my hand, his touch warm, but the tension in his muscles was undeniable. "Claire is right. We can't leave them here."

"If the wolves attack..." I started, but the words faltered in my throat.

"They'd be better off here than facing chaos above," Chastity insisted. "We don't take on stragglers," she said, her words as hard as stone. "I only have enough resources for Prince Bastien and his guard. We're fighting a war and can't babysit orphans."

My mate and I exchange a charged glance, and I don't have to read his emotions to know he is being pulled in many directions. His desire to serve the High Prince and expand territory fighting against his good sense.

Not so long ago, when we'd first met at the capital, and Bastien had taken me as his sanguine partner, Natalia told Bastien, "I thought we agreed no more strays."

Indicating that they'd had a conversation about the number of people Bastien tried to help.

Then, when Bastien suspected I hadn't been treated right by the convent sisters, he was furious. Threatening to tear down the convent.

He might not be a man of many words, but I knew he cared about children. Especially those who didn't have a family to protect them.

"But they're just children," I whispered, my voice trembling. "They're innocent. And can't stay here. They have no home."

"Claire..." Bastien breathed, and I knew what he was going to say before he even finished his sentence.

My vision blurred with anger.

A flash of memory cut through me—my own childhood, the years spent abandoned, always the one left behind. The Ghost of Proctor Hills. The burden. The one who didn't fit in.

"I was often left alone because I was a burden," I told Bastien, the words shaking out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I can't do that to them. I won't."

Bastien stepped closer, his brow furrowed in thought, his voice low and steady, trying to pull me back from the edge. "I know," he said, brushing his thumb over my knuckles, grounding me. "But right now, I have to make choices that keep us alive. We'll leave as many guards as I can spare to protect them. On our way home, we will come back for them, together."

But I was already shaking my head; the thought of leaving them behind made my blood run cold.

"We'll take them with us," I insisted, turning away from him. "Or we'll leave together."

Then I opened our connection, speaking to him in silence.

"We don't need her help, do we? If Hector is dead, there are no negotiations. We should take the children and return to Chateau Rose before it's too late."

Reluctantly, Bastien lifted his gaze from mine and regarded his niece. Words passed between them in Sanguisi. Words I couldn't understand. 

But words, I feared, that would plunge us forward instead of sending us back home.

I've been waiting for the moment could bring Chastity into the story! She's such an interesting character, one that has lived in my head for a long time.

Also, do you think Claire is right? Is it time to turn around and go home?