38. Adelaide

38

ADELAIDE

The guys hover around me. Their concern is suffocating, even if I appreciate their intentions. I need space. I need to think. The room feels smaller with all of them here, their powerful presence filling every corner. I'm not used to this. I'm used to me and dealing with things on my own.

"I need you all to leave," I blurt out. I feel a pang of guilt, but I know it's necessary.

They exchange glances, clearly reluctant. I can see the worry etched on their faces, the tension in their bodies. They want to protect me, but right now, I need to protect myself.

"Adelaide," Zaiah starts, his white eyes filled with worry. "Are you sure that's wise? After what just happened?—"

"I'm sure," I cut him off, perhaps more harshly than I intended. "Please. I need to be alone."

Corvus lifts me off his lap and pulls the covers over me quickly. He gets dressed before he reaches for my hand. His touch, so comforting earlier, now feels like an intrusion. "Addy, we're just worried about you. What if it happens again?"

I pull my hand away, immediately regretting the hurt that flashes across his face. It's like a knife to my gut, but I steel myself. "Then it happens again. But I need to figure this out on my own. At least for now."

Zephyr, surprisingly, is the first to nod. "We should respect her wishes," he says. There's an understanding that I didn't expect in his gaze. Of all of them, he seems to grasp my need for solitude the most. That says a lot about him.

Ignatius looks like he wants to argue, his fiery nature is clearly at odds with the idea of leaving me alone. But after a moment, he sighs, the fight going out of him. "Fine. But promise you'll come to us if anything happens. Anything at all."

I nod, relief washing over me as they move towards the door. It's like the air is coming back into the room, allowing me to breathe again.

Zaiah creates a pocket dimension for himself and Ignatius, the air shimmering as they step through. Zephyr transforms into a gust of wind, his presence lingering for a moment before slipping out the window. Corvus is the last to leave, his eyes lingering on me. The intensity of his gaze makes my heart ache.

"Be careful," he says softly before transforming into a bat and following Zephyr out. It's only when I get up to close the window behind them, I wonder how they got in without me inviting them. Have the wards failed? Or do they just recognise my fated mates? Mates. Is that even a thing? I guess it is.

The room feels bigger now, less claustrophobic, but the silence is almost deafening. I can hear my heartbeat, steady but fast, like a drum in my ears.

I race upstairs to the bathroom, wincing at my reflection in the mirror. Dried blood cakes my cheeks, my eyes red-rimmed and puffy. I look like hell. Like I've been through a war. In a way, I suppose I have: an internal one for my soul.

I jump when my reflection turns back to that Crimson bitch, but I glare at her, my body primed.

"You," she hisses. "Will not last long here."

"And you," I hiss back, matching her cadence perfectly. "Will fuck off out of my sight right now before I smash this mirror with my bare hands."

"Go for it," she snarls. "I'm not going anywhere."

She does, however, vanish from the mirror, but I can feel her presence pressing at my consciousness.

Turning on the tap, I splash cold water on my face, scrubbing away the evidence of whatever the fuck this is. The water runs pink for a moment before clearing. As I pat my face dry, I stare at my reflection, half expecting to see that other face again. But it's just me—just Adelaide.

Or is it?

Am I even me anymore?

I lean closer to the mirror, studying my eyes. Are they a shade darker than before? Is there a hint of red in their depths? Or am I just being paranoid?

Shaking off the thought, I head back to my room and get dressed. The same old jeans and black tee I've been wearing all night and my combat boots. Minus any knickers. But it's practical. I'm ready for anything. Because, at this point, anything could happen.

I need answers, and I know just where to start looking.

Hauling up my backpack, I jump a mile when Orby zooms out of it. I'd forgotten he went in there during classes and seems to have been asleep this entire time. At least, I hope he was and not being a semi-sentient voyeur to me and Corvus. "Orby," I murmur.

He bounces around as usual, so I don't think he saw anything he shouldn't have. I'm going to have to remember that for the future.

Making my way downstairs, I cross the courtyard and head to the library. It's quiet at this hour, nearing dawn. Perfect. I don't need an audience for this. The smell of old books and dust fills my nostrils as I enter, a comforting scent that sets me firmly in reality.

I start in the vampire section, pulling out every book I can find on vampire lore and history. The weight of the old books is reassuring in my hands. Surely, among all this knowledge, I'll find something about what's happening to me.

But hours pass as I pore over dusty tomes and ancient scrolls, and I find nothing about any Crimson anything. My eyes burn from the strain, but I push on. I can't stop. Not now. Not when the answers might be just a page away.

Crimson. I search for any mention of the name, any reference to vampires with red eyes or blood tears. But I come up empty. There's plenty about vampires, their powers, their weaknesses. Stories of ancient bloodlines and legendary vampires. But nothing about whatever the fuck is happening to me.

"Fuck!" I exclaim, catching the attention of a vampire studying at a nearby table. He frowns at me, but then goes back to his work.

I read about vampires who can control minds, vampires who can turn into mist or animals. I learn about the politics of vampire society, the complex hierarchies and alliances. But nowhere do I find anything about a vampire with another presence inside them. A darker, more powerful self.

My frustration is ripping at my insides as I shelve the last book. I've been at this for too long, and I'm no closer to understanding what's going on. The sun is high outside, and I'm getting tired.

Sighing, I gather my things and head out. I need air. I need to think. Then I need to sleep and start all over again after lectures tonight. The stuffy atmosphere of the library suddenly feels oppressive, the weight of all that useless knowledge pressing down on me.

Leaving it behind, I aim for the forest at the edge of the MistHallow grounds. The morning mist clings to the ground, swirling around my ankles as I walk. It's peaceful, the sounds of the forest a welcome change from the stuffy silence of the library.

As I walk, my mind races. What the fuck is happening to me? Am I going crazy? Is this some weird vampire puberty shit that no one thought to warn me about? Or is it something else entirely? Something older, more powerful, more dangerous?

I think back to the bathroom mirror, to the face I saw. It was me, but not me. Older, maybe. Harder. And those eyes... blood-red and full of power. It was like looking at a version of myself from a dark future, a path I'm not sure I want to walk.

Or do I?

I can't deny that the sheer power coming from her is alluring, tempting. It's calling to me, and I want to give in. It would be easier than to fight her.

Crimson. The name echoes in my head, but it is meaningless.

A twig snaps under my foot, startling me out of my thoughts. I've wandered deeper into the forest than I meant to. The trees are thicker, the mist heavier, the chill icy. For a moment, I consider turning back. This far from the academy, who knows what kind of creatures might be lurking?

But something pulls me forward. A feeling, an instinct I can't explain. It's like there's a thread connected to my very core, tugging me deeper into the woods.

I push on, the forest growing denser around me. The mist thickens, obscuring my vision. It's like walking through a dream. Shapes loom out of the fog, settling into trees or rocks before fading away again.

Suddenly, the trees part, revealing a small clearing. In the centre stands a stone monolith, ancient and weathered. It's different from the one I was in with Zephyr the other night. Symbols I don't recognise are carved into its surface, barely visible under years of moss and lichen. It feels old. Older than MistHallow, which is saying something.

As I approach, I feel a strange energy pouring from the stone. It's familiar somehow, like a half-remembered dream. Like the presence I felt earlier, but different. Older. More primal.

Without thinking, I reach out and touch the monolith. The moment my fingers make contact, a jolt of energy surges through me. Images flash before my eyes, too fast to make sense of. Blood. Fire. Shadows that move with a life of their own. Battles fought in darkness, power beyond imagination wielded by figures shrouded in mystery.

I try to pull my hand away, but I can't move. The energy builds, growing stronger, more intense. My whole body feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending screaming in protest.

Pain explodes behind my eyes, and I hear myself scream. The sound echoes through the clearing, sending birds scattering from the trees.

"Who are you?" I shout, my voice echoing in the clearing. "What do you want?"

For a moment, there's nothing but silence. The forest seems to hold its breath, waiting. Then, a voice. Her voice. My voice.

"I am you," it says. "And you are me. We are one, little bitch. Accept it."

The words resonate through me, shaking me to my core.

"No," I growl, fighting against the pain, the intrusion. "I'm Adelaide Légère. Adelaide Black ."

Laughter echoes in my mind, cold and cruel. "Oh, little bitch. You have no idea what you are."

The energy surges again, and I fall to my knees, my hand still pressed against the stone. I can feel her trying to take control. It's like being torn in two, my soul splitting apart.

"Stop," I gasp. "Please."

"I can't stop," the voice says. "I am you. Your power. Your potential. Your destiny."

"I don't want it," I cry out. "I just want to be me."

The laughter comes again, softer this time. Almost sad. "Oh, Adelaide. You can't fight what you are. We are the shadow that walks in daylight, the power that flows through your veins. We are Crimson Shadow."

With a final burst of energy, the connection breaks. I fall back, my hand finally free from the stone. The clearing spins around me as I struggle to catch my breath. My whole body aches, every muscle screaming in protest.

As my vision clears, I see that the symbols on the monolith are glowing faintly. Red, like blood. Like her eyes. Like my eyes.

I scramble to my feet, stumbling away from the stone. My head is pounding, my whole body aching. But I'm me. Just me.

For now.

What the fuck was that? Who is she? What am I? The questions swirl in my head, unanswered and terrifying. But one thing is clear: I can't keep this to myself anymore. I need help. I need to speak to Blackthorn, or maybe even Randall.

The forest seems different as I retrace my steps. Darker, more alive. I can feel eyes on me, watching from the shadows. But nothing attacks. Nothing approaches. It's as if the forest recognises something in me, something dangerous.

I trip over a tangled mass of roots and fall to the ground, my ankle twinging with pain. "Fuck," I growl as I sit up and brush my hands off on my jeans. "Fuck you, roots. Fuck you, forest, Fuck you, Crimson. Fuck everything."

Tears spring into my eyes, and I haul myself onto a fallen log, dropping my head into my hands as I cry for everything I lost, everything I thought I didn't want, but miss like crazy right now.