Bloodline of Ash and Fang

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE COST OF A VOW

Kael launched himself at Silas, claws ripping the air as they reached for the vampire's neck.

Swoosh.

Silas sidestepped then sidestepped again, and a third time, calmly evading three different claw attempts without even a speck of dust settling on his clothes. He hadn't even used his weapon. He hadn't transformed. Only his eyes flashed red for one brief second. It was as though he could see every move before Kael even made it. Calm. Collected. Poised with elegance.

"Ahhh!" Kael released an animalistic growl, frustration boiling over. The hair on his face grew long, his features shifting, becoming more wolf than man. He cracked his neck, claws gleaming sharp and deadly under the moonlight.

Kael raised his head, staring Silas down. "It's been a while since I've been forced to go full werewolf." The air turned chilly, thick with bloodlust radiating from him.

Silas smiled. "Come."

Whoosh.

Kael moved. The speed at which he lunged was extraordinary, the grass beneath his feet tore up completely. Swoosh, the sound of air being clawed apart echoed through the night.

Silas bent backward at a full ninety degree angle, shock flickering in his eyes even in that impossible position. Too fast. He hadn't expected that much pace from this wolf pup.

Seeing Silas block didn't faze Kael. He planted one hand on the ground and pivoted, launching a devastating kick toward the side of Silas's skull.

Boom.

The sound of Kael's leg meeting Silas's forearm echoed like two metal bars colliding.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Consecutive blows and kicks rained down in succession, like turret fire. Kael attacked; Silas defended.

Kael went for another kick. Silas blocked again. But this time, Kael used the momentum, spinning 360 degrees in the air before slashing straight for the neck.

Rip.

The sound of fabric tearing cut through the night.

Silas backtracked instantly.

Drip.

A deafening silence fell, broken only by the sound of blood hitting the ground.

The smile on Silas's face was gone. He touched his neck and felt his own blood. It was just a scratch, but it was his blood.

Kael smiled. He'd finally gotten the bastard.

He opened his mouth to speak but then froze.

A chill, the likes of which he hadn't felt in a long time, crawled up his spine. It felt like a serpent slithering over his skin. Shivers racked his body.

"I haven't seen my own blood in a long time," Silas said, his voice low, fascinated. The cut on his neck sealed shut, healing at a speed that would shock any mortal. "You've earned the right to see me get serious."

His presence changed. The air around him grew heavy, sinister, saturated with bloodlust. His eyes glowed deep, venomous red, veins spreading like dark lightning across his temples. His fangs lengthened. His skin turned pale. He looked like death itself.

And slowly, he unsheathed his dagger.

Blooddrinker.

The blade seemed to drink the light around it, humming with a low, thirsty frequency. Kael lunged again, a final, desperate attack. Silas didn't sidestep. He moved with brutal, final purpose. Blooddrinker met Kael's charge not with a precise sting, but with a vicious, upward arc that ripped through muscle and sinew on Kael's chest. It was a wound meant to cripple and dominate.

Kael crashed to his knees, a choked cry of shock and pain tearing from his throat. He clutched at the devastating wound, his strength flooding out of him onto the cold ground. Silas stood over him, Blooddrinker poised.

“Nothing?” Silas’s voice finally lost its icy calm, vibrating with a fury that was centuries deep. “You think I did nothing?”

Kael struggled to rise, but the pain was too great. The vampire’s strength was immovable.

“Who do you think convinced Lilith to flee?” Silas hissed, the words sharp in Kael’s ear. “Who do you think has kept Joseph’s hounds from sniffing out her scent in Bloodhaven all these years? It was not the loyalty of wolves.”

He eased the pressure of his will just enough for Kael to gasp.

“That boy is alive because of me. His mind is whole because of me.” The anger bled away, replaced by a grim, cold truth. “The memory of that phone call… the sound of his father’s terror… the name he screamed… it was burning him alive from the inside out. So I buried it. I built a wall in his mind to keep him safe. To keep him silent.”

The fight drained from Kael. The truth was a greater weapon than any dagger. The vampire wasn’t the enemy. He was the keeper of a terrible, necessary secret.

Silas stepped back, Blooddrinker vanishing into the folds of his coat. “Your grief is a weapon, Kael. And you are waving it in the dark for all to see. You are leading Joseph right to the only thing left of your sworn brother.”

Kael slid to the ground, not in defeat, but in utter recalibration. He wasn’t looking at an enemy anymore. He was looking at a reluctant, centuries-old guardian.

The misunderstanding had been shattered against the brick wall of the alley, written in blood and pain. And in its place stood a terrible, united question: What now?

Silas stood over him, the pale dawn light catching the edge of Blooddrinker. The cut on Kael’s chest burned with a cold fire, but the vampire’s words cut deeper.

“You protect him?” Kael rasped, the fight draining out of him, replaced by a staggering confusion. “Or does your kind have another use for a Ravenholtz heir?”

“My kind has no use for children,” Silas said, his voice losing its lethal edge, replaced by a weary finality. “My vow was to Alexander. The boy is his legacy. Your war is with Joseph. Wage it. But if your crusade brings harm to that house, the next time we meet, I will not be so instructive.”

Kael pushed himself up onto his elbows, wincing against the pain. “And if Joseph’s pack comes for him?”

A flicker of something that was not quite respect, but perhaps understanding, passed over Silas’s ageless face. “Then we will have a common enemy. But do not mistake a shared enemy for an alliance, wolf. Stay away from the boy. I will be watching.”

Without another word, Silas turned. He seemed to dissolve into the deepening shadows of the alley, leaving Kael alone with the scent of his own blood and the ghost of a promise he no longer understood. He looked in the direction of the small hous

e on the quiet street, his vengeance suddenly complicated by a duty he never knew he had.