The old chapel lay in ruins, its broken stained-glass windows casting fractured colors across the stone floor. Nora's boots crunched against the rubble as she followed Blade deeper into the forgotten sanctuary. The air was heavy with incense long burned away and whispers of vows that had once been spoken here.
"This place," Nora muttered, her voice low, "smells like the ghosts of promises."
Blade glanced at her, his amber eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "That's because it is a place of promises. Every rebellion begins with one."
He knelt before the cracked altar, his clawed hand brushing over a bloodstained carving etched into the stone. It was old—older than either of them could truly comprehend—an oath once sworn by warriors who had stood against the vampire high council centuries ago.
Nora's breath caught. "You brought me here… because you want me to swear one too?"
Blade turned, his jaw clenched. For all his usual swagger and sharp wit, there was something raw in his face now. "This isn't about wanting. It's about survival. Selene isn't the only one risking her life. If we're going to stand against the council—if we're going to change things—we can't just fight. We have to bind ourselves."
Nora crossed her arms, though her heart was pounding. "Bind ourselves? With what? Blood?"
"Yes." His answer was quick, unflinching.
For a moment, silence filled the chapel, broken only by the wind slipping through the shattered windows. Nora's mind raced—images of Selene sneaking through shadows, of Lucian's gaze burning with forbidden devotion, of the weight pressing down on all of them.
Blade drew a dagger from his belt, its blade glinting faintly in the moonlight that spilled across the altar. He cut his palm without hesitation, letting the dark crimson drip onto the stone. "I swear to never betray this cause. To protect it with my life, and to strike against those who enslave us."
He looked at her, waiting.
Nora's throat tightened. She had always been quick with her tongue, sharp with her wit. But here, now, the words seemed heavier than iron. She stepped forward, grabbed the blade, and dragged it across her palm. Pain seared, hot and immediate, but it felt right.
Her blood fell, mingling with Blade's on the altar.
"I swear…" her voice trembled, but grew stronger, "…that I will not turn away. That I will fight, even when death claws at my throat. And that I will never forget the ones we've lost."
Blade's eyes locked on hers. For a heartbeat, they were bound not by rebellion, not by strategy, but by something deeper—trust forged in blood.
Then, the air shifted.
A low sound echoed through the chapel—like a whisper slithering along the walls. Nora's head snapped around. Shadows seemed to move, stretching across the stones like living things.
Blade cursed under his breath. "We've awakened something."
The oath was not just a promise. It was an invocation.
From the dark corners of the chapel, figures began to stir—phantoms of warriors who had once sworn the same vow. Their hollow eyes burned with pale fire, their mouths opening in silent screams.
Nora stumbled back, her chest heaving. "What the hell is this?"
Blade's expression hardened. "The price of loyalty. Once sworn, the oath never dies—it binds you to every soul who came before."
The spirits closed in, surrounding them, their whispers filling Nora's ears until she thought she would go mad. She clutched her bleeding hand, fighting the instinct to run.
Blade grabbed her wrist, his voice firm. "Stand your ground, Nora. If you break now, the oath will tear you apart."
Summoning every shred of defiance in her, Nora squared her shoulders and glared at the encroaching phantoms. "Then let them come. I've lived with monsters my whole life. I'm not afraid to join their ranks."
For a tense moment, the spirits halted. Then, as if satisfied, they melted back into the shadows, leaving the chapel heavy with silence once more.
Nora gasped, her knees weak. Blade caught her before she fell, his arm firm around her.
"You did well," he murmured. "Now we're bound—not just to each other, but to this war."
Nora's pulse thundered in her ears. She wanted to argue, to curse him for dragging her into something that felt far bigger than herself. But when she met his gaze, she saw the truth: there was no going back.
The oath had been made.
And somewhere, far away in the darkened halls of the council, something stirred—like a predator sensing its prey had dared to bare its teeth.