Chapter 159: 159-The sire bond
Maisa’s breathing came rapidly as she stared at the room: the ancient furniture, the faded decorations, and the closed door. Everything was exactly where it had been, but Maisa couldn’t shake the image from her mind: the white-haired girl and those impossible eyes.
She had seen that vampire before somewhere. She was certain of it.
Maisa frowned. "Where have I seen her?"
Before she could think further, a rustle came from the opposite corner of the room. Maisa’s head snapped toward it, and her eyes widened.
The werewolf from the previous night. The same girl from the forest was lying several feet away.
Maisa frowned. "Her?" She stared at the unconscious figure. "Why is she here?"
As if responding to the question, the werewolf suddenly stirred. Her fingers twitched, and her breathing changed. Then her eyes snapped open.
Freya immediately sat upright, but a massive headache slammed into her skull. She groaned and pressed a hand against her forehead. Then came the hunger.
It wasn’t ordinary hunger, but an animalistic emptiness that seemed to claw through her stomach. She felt hollow and starving, as though something inside her had awakened with teeth.
Every sound in the room suddenly became unbearably loud: the faint creak of wood, the movement of fabric, and even her own breathing and then she heard Maisa’s breathing and it was the loudest.
Freya’s head snapped toward her. The sound was maddening: too clear and too close. Her senses were heightened beyond anything she had ever experienced, and even the light hurt. Freya squinted against it.
"What...?"
Then she saw Maisa, and everything came rushing back: the forest, the attack, Maisa’s fangs sinking into her neck, her blood being drained, her own fangs sinking into Maisa’s throat, the blood moon, the force that had thrown them apart, the lake, falling, sinking, and drowning.
Freya’s eyes widened. She should have been dead, but she didn’t stop to question it. Her first thought was Maisa and her second was revenge.
"You..."
Freya threw the blanket aside and stood. She spotted a metal rod mounted against the wall and immediately grabbed it. The speed at which she moved startled even her. She wasn’t moving like a werewolf. She was faster, much faster. Almost vampiric.
But her heightened senses left no room for questions, only anger.
"You attacked me yesterday." her grip tightened around the rod until her knuckles whitened. "I am going to kill you."
She lunged.
Maisa reacted instinctively, raising her hand. She could fight her, she could summon her borrowed elemental magic, but Taratoya’s warning flashed through her mind: Every time you use borrowed power, there are consequences to her mates.
Maisa hesitated. ’No. She wasn’t going to risk it.’
She lowered her hand and clenched her fist instead. "I don’t want to hurt you."
Freya was already upon her. The rod came down with enough force to split bone, and Maisa closed her eyes, bracing for impact.
She waited for the rod to hit her and nothing happened. One second passed, then another, and then several more. Maisa waited for the blow, for pain, for the sound of metal striking flesh. It never came.
She slowly opened her eyes. Freya was standing directly in front of her, the metal rod still moving again and again, but it wasn’t touching her. It had stopped an inch from Maisa’s face.
Freya’s eyes widened. She forced the rod forward but as soon as it was about to hit Maisa, her hand stopped. Again and again.
Every strike came within an inch of Maisa’s body, yet none could reach her. The invisible distance between them felt more terrifying than any weapon.
Freya stumbled backward. "What is going on?"
Maisa stared at the space between them. "I’d also like to know that."
A voice answered from behind them. "You died with her blood in your veins."
Both women froze. The words seemed to settle over the room like a sentence, and neither dared turn around.
"And the light of the blood moon was upon you. That’s what happened."
Maisa felt the hairs rise along her arms. Freya’s fingers tightened around the metal rod. Behind them, something scraped softly against wood. A chair, a table, or perhaps someone shifting in the darkness.
Maisa slowly turned. The table in the corner had been empty only moments ago. Now someone sat there: a black-haired vampire.
Maisa recognized him immediately. Her fingers curled into fists. "Nersus?"
The vampire looked up. His eyes were black, just as they had been the first time she encountered him, but now they were strangely white around the center. His lips curled into his familiar smile.
"You fell into the lake and drowned, Freya," he said calmly. He drummed his fingers against the tabletop. "And yet you rose again."
His gaze shifted toward Freya. "Not as a werewolf because werewolves don’t come back from the dead."
Freya’s grip loosened, and the metal rod slipped from her fingers. It struck the floor with a sharp clang that echoed through the room.
Vaki leaned back. "You rose as something else," he let the silence linger, watching the fear take shape on Freya’s face. "A hybrid."
Freya stared at him. "A... hybrid?" She shook her head. "That isn’t possible."
"It shouldn’t be," Vaki’s smile widened. "But the blood moon has never been particularly concerned with what should be possible."
Freya’s face paled. "How?"
"The magic of the blood moon," His gaze settled on her. "And somehow, during the transformation, something else happened."
He paused, and the room seemed to grow colder. Maisa’s stomach tightened.
"What else?" she asked.
Vaki looked at her instead of answering. For one long moment, he said nothing.
Freya’s breathing grew shallow. "What happened?" she demanded.
Vaki’s eyes moved between them. "The blood that turned you belonged to Maisa."
Maisa’s eyes narrowed at him. "So?"
Vaki’s expression became almost amused. "The blood moon didn’t simply transform you, Freya," he tapped one finger against the table, once and then twice. "It sired you... to her."
Freya went completely still.
Maisa frowned. "Sired?"
Vaki did not explain immediately. He watched their faces as though waiting for the meaning to reach them on its own. The silence became unbearable. Somewhere in the room, wood creaked beneath the pressure of the quiet.
Freya took a step back. "What does that mean?"
"The transformation created a bond between you and the vampire whose blood entered your body."
Maisa looked at Freya, and Freya looked back at her. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable.
"Like a mate?" Maisa asked.
"No, darling," Vaki immediately shook his head. "It isn’t a zing."
Both women released the breath they hadn’t realized they were holding.
Then Vaki continued. "Think of it as something far worse."
Freya’s expression tightened. "What could be worse than that?"
Vaki’s voice became colder. "A master and a bound servant."
The room fell silent. Freya stared at him, seemingly unable to understand the words. Then her face twisted with disbelief. "No, that’s not possible."
Vaki didn’t blink. "You are bound to Maisa in pure obedience."
Freya’s face drained of color, and her gaze snapped toward Maisa as though Maisa herself had placed the chains around her.
"You can hate her. You can despise her. You can wish her dead," he continued, his eyes flicked toward Maisa. "But the bond will not allow you to kill her."
Freya shook her head violently. "No..."
"You can disagree with everything she says," Vaki continued with a faint smile, "but if she commands you, you will obey."
Maisa’s stomach twisted. Freya’s breathing broke into a sharp, frightened gasp.
"No," Maisa said. "I don’t want that."
Vaki’s gaze shifted to her. "No questions asked."
Maisa immediately shook her head. "I don’t want that," she repeated. "Take it back. I don’t want it."