41. 40

40

Serina

I was going to kill Victor tonight.

I could feel their fear for me, palpable as the energy that hummed beneath my skin. They'd seen me broken, life seeping from my veins before the gift—or curse—of immortality was forced upon me to snatch me back from death's cold embrace.

They carried the weight of that decision, the memory etched into their haunted expressions.

Bastian, Nox, and Thorne had a good idea of where Victor would be hiding out after all of the years they’d spent with him. He had taken over a lot of warehouses that had been abandoned after the construction material company that owned them closed down. Apparently, there was another one located not far from here.

We stayed up late last night going over the blueprints. Sam had set up cameras and traps with the guys in the surrounding areas just in case. I didn’t want her to be a part of this, but she refused after what Victor had forced her to do.

We were ready, and everything was planned down to the minutes.

“Remember,” Bastian whispered, his voice a low rumble, “he thinks you’re dead. Serina, you stay back. Let us clear the path. He will think we are coming for him for our own vengeance.”

“We are,” Nox huffed, glancing over to the building from where we were perched in the tree line.

Nox's eyes were two pools of dark resolve, his hand resting momentarily on the small of my back in a gesture that conveyed more than words ever could.

All three of them gave me a quick kiss and then left. I hung back as they neared the entrance. They breached the bunker's threshold without hesitation, and I soon heard the muffled sounds of chaos unfurling inside.

I waited, my heart a drumbeat echoing in the cavern of my chest, feeling every second stretch on forever. Moments felt like an eternity. The blood in my veins sang with a power that was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

And so, I waited, my body coiled tight like a viper in the grass, listening to the distant cacophony that told me they were fighting for more than just revenge.

They were fighting for me.

I waited until the screams had descended far enough into the building that I could sneak in without anyone catching me. Most of Victor’s goons were new changelings that didn’t stand a chance against Bastian, Nox, and Thorne regardless of the poison.

I eased through the shadows, following the chaos the guys wreaked until they had made it to the room in the warehouse that Victor was in. I crept inside unnoticed.

Then, it happened—the moment the tides turned against us.

The guys, they were good, damned good, but the numbers… there were just too many.

I saw Bastian stumble, his back against the wall, his eyes wide with the grim acceptance of possibly facing his end. An end I wouldn’t allow to happen.

Thorne roared, a sound more beast than man, as three Vampires pinned him down. And Nox—my Nox—he fought like a Demon unleashed, but even Demons tire, and I saw the exhaustion etching lines of defeat across his face.

Victor emerged then, smug satisfaction curling his lips—a predator sauntering toward his cornered prey.

His eyes glinted with the power of compulsion, that foul gift that had twisted so many to his will. He raised a hand, fingers splayed, pausing the chaos.

“Well, would you look at this… My own men turning against me, though I can’t say I’m surprised. Honestly, I expected you sooner… You loved her, didn’t you?” His words dripped with malice and scorn, as if the idea of such were pathetic.

“You took her from us!” Nox roared, leaping toward Victor with tears in his eyes.

Damn, he was good; even I believed him, and in a way, he wasn’t wrong that I was taken from them.

Victor ordered more goons to handle him while he sauntered across the floor as if it were a stage and he was putting on his own show. Self-absorbed prick.

“You know,” Victor began, a twisted smirk playing on his lips as he savored the moment, “it was quite satisfying, watching the light drain from her eyes. Seeing the realization dawn upon her as she realized just how much she didn’t know… I wonder how she felt as she laid there before she burned. I bet she called to you for help, and you weren’t there.”

Bastian’s rage was palpable as he shot forward. No goons were able to grab him; he was too fast. He punched Victor so hard he went flying across the room. Victor’s men flew into action.

“Stop!” he roared, and they all paused. “This has been a long time coming, Bas, and I want to enjoy killing you myself.”

This hadn’t been a part of the plan. We had wanted this to be as quick as possible, but I guessed Victor’s words had hit their mark.

I needed to get closer, but now his men were standing guard along the edges of the room. I looked up, seeing the thick metal rafters above. I scaled the wall easily and silently. Grabbing onto the rusted, cool steel, I hoisted myself up and made my way across until I was directly above Bastian and Victor.

Victor lunged, and Bastian dodged, only for Victor to reappear behind him. I had to stop myself from screaming out a warning. Bastian moved fast to avoid him.

“You thought you could betray me and get away with it?” Victor spat, using conversation to draw out this fight. To distract. His voice dripped with venom. “You underestimated me, underestimated my power.”

Bastians lips curled into a wicked smile, a glint of defiance in his eyes. “You were always too arrogant for your own good,” he retorted, his voice cold as ice. “You thought you could control me, manipulate me. But you were wrong, and that pisses you off, doesn’t it? Knowing you have no control anymore.”

It was Bastian’s turn to hit a nerve, and he did. With a primal roar, Victor lunged forward again, the blackness taking over his eyes, his claws slashing through the air.

Bastian danced out of reach, his movements fluid and precise. Control. He was in control.

No more waiting. My muscles coiled, and in a breath, I stepped off of the edge just as Bastian grabbed for Victor and spun him into a chokehold using every ounce of his strength to hold him. I landed directly in front of him, and now I was my turn to watch that surprise wash over him.

A cold dread turned his features ashen. I was his death, and he knew it.

Time slowed, distilled into a single moment as I surged forward. Faster than thought, my fist plunged into his chest, shattering bone and muscle, seeking the corrupt heart that had caused so much suffering.

“That's for my father,” I managed through gritted teeth.

His eyes betrayed a flicker of fear before my hand closed around the pulsing core of his existence.

With one final yank, I tore his heart free, the organ still defiantly beating in my grasp. Victor's body crumpled, and Bastian let him fall to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Blood dripped from my clenched fist, the thick, coppery scent filling the air as Victor's heart shuddered its last defiant beats against my palm.

It was over. I let out a breath and opened my hand. The heart fell with a grotesque wet thud echoing through the silence of the room as it hit the ground.

“It’s over,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

It was like waking from a nightmare for the Vampires standing around us. They shook their heads, rubbing temples, blinking rapidly as if daylight had suddenly flooded a dark room.

Their previous demeanors melted away, leaving behind nothing but bewildered faces and dawning horror at what they'd become under his wicked command.

“Serina,” Nox murmured, relief and awe lacing his voice.

Bastian stood motionless, his eyes tracking the Vampires as they looked at one another, recognition and understanding passing between them without words.

“They're free,” Bastian said, not quite believing it himself.

Thorne kept his guard up, though his stance relaxed as the minutes passed and no new threats emerged. “We’re free,” he added, his gaze softening when it landed on me.

We spent hours in that warehouse, helping the confused Vampires clean up the remnants of Victor's tyranny. It felt surreal, watching enemies turn into allies with a simple flick of fate.

They were eager to help, to make amends, to live the lives that were stolen from them. A choice that was stolen from them.

“None of this should've happened,” a former goon—a man named Marcus—said, his eyes haunted yet hopeful. “We just want peace. A chance to be who we were before all this.”

I could see it then, their true selves shining through.

“I think we all deserve a do-over,” I suggested, my voice stronger than I felt.

A chance.

And as we worked side by side, clearing debris and tending to those who had been under his spell for so long, a peculiar sense of unity took root among all of us.

I had once thirsted for vengeance, but now I was finding solace in forgiveness and the promise of a future I never would have had.

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of gratitude.

Bastian, Thorne, and Nox—they had given me strength, love, and a reason to keep going when darkness threatened to swallow me whole.

“Thank you,” I told them, each word thick with emotion. “For everything.”

“No, love, thank you,” Bastian said, grabbing my hand as we began to clear out of the warehouse.

I was speechless. I was in awe of them, of us.

As we stepped out of the warehouse, I realized that in saving these lost souls, I too had been freed. The weight of the past, the chains of revenge, had been lifted.

And maybe, just maybe, this was what salvation felt like. Not just for me, but for all of us.