Talric didn't move.
That was what unsettled me most.
He stood at the far end of the hall with his hands folded behind his back, posture relaxed, as if he were inviting conversation rather than violence. The wardlight along the walls pulsed faintly, reacting to my rising heat.
Seraphina shifted subtly in front of me, blade angled low but ready. "He's stalling," she murmured. "Do not engage recklessly."
Talric smiled. "You trained her well, Queen. Or perhaps she trained you."
My jaw clenched. "You remember me," I said. "So you remember what Marcus did."
"I remember efficiency," Talric replied calmly. "Humans break more cleanly when they believe someone is listening."
The fire inside me surged hard enough to blur my vision.
Seraphina's hand snapped back, gripping my wrist. "Liam. Anchor."
"I am anchored," I said, though my voice shook. "Right here."
Talric's eyes gleamed. "Show me."
He moved.
Not fast.
Instant.
The space between us collapsed. His blade was already in motion, a blur of reinforced steel aimed straight for my throat. I barely twisted aside, felt the edge skim my collarbone. Heat flared instinctively, but Talric was already past me, pivoting with inhuman precision.
Seraphina intercepted him mid-turn. Their weapons clashed, sparks bursting as vampiric speed met vampiric mastery. Talric laughed softly as he disengaged, flipping backward onto the raised platform.
"Careful," he said. "You'll dull your edge protecting him."
"I protect what matters," Seraphina replied coldly.
"Ah," Talric said. "Then he matters more than the war."
That struck harder than any blade.
Talric raised his hand.
The wardlight flared.
From the side corridors, more Nightwalkers emerged. Not soldiers this time. Enforcers. Older. Faster. Their movements were smoother, less aggressive, more deliberate.
Seraphina cursed under her breath. "He kept reserves."
My pulse thundered. "We can still retreat."
"No," she said immediately. "Not now."
Talric's smile widened. "She's right."
The Nightwalkers attacked together.
This time, they didn't rush blindly. They pressed in tight arcs, forcing me to move, to react, to choose targets too quickly. One came high, one low. Another feinted, drawing my attention as a blade sliced toward my ribs.
I blocked, twisted, countered. Fire flashed, but I restrained it, careful not to let it pull again.
Too careful.
A fist slammed into my jaw, snapping my head sideways. Pain exploded behind my eyes. I staggered back, barely keeping my feet.
Seraphina was everywhere at once. She moved through them like a living weapon, strikes landing with brutal efficiency. But even she couldn't be everywhere.
A Nightwalker caught my arm, fingers digging in. "Marcus will want you intact."
"No," I growled. "He won't."
I let go.
The fire surged, not outward, but inward.
The pull hit hard.
His strength poured into me like molten iron, searing and intoxicating. I gasped as the rush flooded my chest, my limbs, my senses sharpening painfully. The Nightwalker collapsed mid-motion, armor clattering as he went limp.
I ripped my hand free, heart racing.
Too much.
It was too much.
The next attacker lunged, and I reacted without thinking. I caught him by the throat and the fire drank again. His resistance crumbled instantly, eyes glazing as the essence drained away.
I staggered back as I released him, chest heaving.
The hall felt brighter.
No. Not brighter.
Clearer.
I could hear everything. Every footstep. Every breath. Even the faint crackle of wardlight breaking down under the pressure of my presence.
Seraphina turned sharply. "Liam, stop!"
But another Nightwalker charged, blade raised.
I moved before she finished speaking.
Vampiric speed wasn't mine.
But momentum was.
I sidestepped, slammed my palm into his chest, and pulled.
This time, the absorption was violent.
Essence surged into me in a torrent, power stacking on power until my vision flared gold at the edges. The Nightwalker screamed once before going slack.
I stumbled, nearly falling to one knee.
Talric watched with open fascination. "Incredible," he murmured. "You don't just consume. You metabolize."
Seraphina reached me, gripping my shoulders hard. "Enough," she said fiercely. "You will tear yourself apart."
"I'm fine," I said automatically.
I wasn't.
The fire inside me wasn't raging, but it was swelling, stretching against limits I didn't understand. Every absorbed fragment added weight, pressure, heat. My veins felt like they were glowing from the inside out.
Talric descended the steps slowly. "Marcus suspected your bloodline could rewrite vampiric hierarchy. I argued it was myth."
He stopped a few paces away. "I was wrong."
Seraphina positioned herself squarely between us. "You will not take another step."
Talric's gaze slid past her to me. "You already took something from me once, human. Tonight, I return the favor."
He lunged.
Seraphina met him head-on.
Their clash was brutal. Not elegant. Not restrained. Talric fought with ruthless intent, forcing Seraphina back step by step. His strikes were heavier, powered by wards still clinging to his armor.
I tried to move.
My legs refused.
The power inside me churned, disorganized now, clashing fragments of stolen essence grinding together like mismatched gears. My breath came shallow.
Talric slammed Seraphina into a pillar hard enough to crack it.
I saw red.
Not fire.
Memory.
Chains. Cold stone. His voice. Aria crying.
Something inside me snapped into alignment.
I stepped forward.
Talric turned just in time to see me coming.
"No," Seraphina shouted. "Liam, do not—"
I grabbed Talric by the collar.
And I pulled.
This was different.
His essence wasn't thin or fragmented like the others. It was dense. Old. Anchored. When the fire latched on, it resisted, flaring painfully through my chest.
Talric screamed.
Not in fear.
In fury.
"You don't understand what you're doing!" he snarled as the fire tore into him. "You can't hold—"
The essence broke free.
The rush was catastrophic.
Power slammed into me like a tidal wave. I cried out as my knees hit the floor, hands digging into the stone. The hall shook, wardlight exploding into shards of fading magic.
Talric collapsed beside me, drained completely, not dead but empty, like a shell.
The fire roared.
Seraphina was suddenly there, gripping my face, forcing my gaze to hers. "Liam. Focus. Breathe. You are not a vessel. You are a will."
Her voice cut through the chaos.
I forced air into my lungs.
The fire resisted.
I held on anyway.
Slowly, painfully, the surge settled. The excess power folded inward, compressing, stabilizing.
The gold haze faded from my vision.
I slumped forward, exhausted.
Silence fell over the hall.
Seraphina knelt beside me, eyes searching my face, my mark, my pulse. For the first time since I'd known her, fear flickered openly across her expression.
"You consumed a Warden," she said quietly.
"I didn't mean to," I whispered.
"I know," she replied.
That was what frightened her most.
She looked down at Talric's unconscious form, then back at me.
"What you are becoming," she said slowly, "will change everything."
I swallowed. "Does that include you?"
Her jaw tightened.
"Yes."
She stood, offering me her hand. I took it, unsteady but upright.
Around us, the fort groaned as its wards failed completely.
Seraphina glanced toward the far corridor, where Marcus's presence lingered just beyond reach.
"He will feel this," she said. "And when he does… he will come."
I looked at my hands, still warm with stolen fire.
"Let him," I said.
Because now I knew.
If Marcus had made monsters by breaking people…
Then I would unmake them.
And keep the power they never deserved.