A Clash of Storms (A Shade of Vampire #50)(49)

“Let me go!” I growled, yanking my hand back.

His arms quickly wrapped around my waist, holding me tight.

“I’m sorry, Sis. We have to,” he said.

“No, no, you—”

“You… You know about Soul Fusion?” Azazel asked, his voice barely audible, but loud enough to distract me for a second.

“You must’ve thought you burned everything down when you first invaded Calliope, but you consistently underestimated my father,” Draven replied, an eyebrow raised.

Despite his cool demeanor, I knew he was in tremendous pain. Just like he knew I was already tearing up, unable to hold it in anymore. I struggled against Phoenix’s hold and pushed out a barrier. He grunted, but he didn’t let go.

“Dammit, Phoenix, let me go,” I snarled, then looked at Draven. “Don’t, Draven! Don’t do this!”

“It’s the only way, Serena,” Phoenix insisted, but I couldn’t accept it. I’d rejected the premise from the very beginning.

The others watched quietly. The somber looks on their faces, the glimmers of sadness and grief in their eyes told me everything I needed to know. They knew. And, like my brother, they were ready for it.

But I’m not!

“Your father,” Azazel muttered, squinting at Draven as he started to figure out his familiar features.

“Almus.”

Azazel’s eyes widened, the green flames burning bright with recognition. It was all there for him to see. The physical features. The relentlessness and brilliant Druid skills. Draven was the best of both Genevieve and Almus, and it was something that even Azazel couldn’t deny.

“It’s been a long time… I’d almost forgotten what Almus looked like. You survived. Funny enough, that little silvery worm Sverik never told me who you were. He only gave me a name. I’ll have to rip his entrails out for not divulging this little morsel of information.” Azazel nodded slowly, pursing his lips. “Looks like your father decided to bother me after all, from beyond his shallow grave.”

Sverik hadn’t told him - why was that? It came as a surprise, but then, combined with the fact that Jasmine had stopped the information flow from the mansion, it all suddenly made sense. Azazel clearly hadn’t known who Draven was up to this point. I had a feeling that, had he known he was dealing with Almus’ son, he would’ve been even more brutal, more vicious and relentless in his quest to stop us.

“All the forbidden manuscripts were saved. All the Druid archives,” Draven said. “He kept everything secret, hidden far away from you or anyone who served you. Everything. Including the Soul Fusion spell.”

“Don’t be stupid, little Druid.” Azazel scoffed. “It takes a Master Druid such as myself to withstand the strength of Asherak. And you need his consent. He will never leave me for you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Draven smirked and brought the snake pendant up to his lips.

Azazel froze, and so did I.

“Draven!” I screamed. “Draven, don’t! Please! There has to be another way!”

Both Jovi and Phoenix were now holding me back. I pushed out one barrier after another, but I was getting so weak, they barely felt them. They weren’t letting me go.

“Serena, we’re sorry, but you know it’s what needs to be done!” Jovi grunted, but I wasn’t listening.

My heart broke, and tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Draven, I love you. Don’t do this… Please!” I shrieked, my throat burning.

I couldn’t stop him. My brother, my friends, our allies, they didn’t want to stop him.

Draven whispered into the snake’s ruby eyes, and the object responded, wiggling and breaking its eight-loop to move in a circle, as if trying to eat its own tail.

“Come take me, Asherak,” Draven called out to the dark Druid, whose presence was still heavy and intense, consuming the air around us. “I’m all yours…”

The whispers intensified, words forming in the back of my head. Azazel hissed, fury contorting his face. He moved toward Draven, but the pendant emitted an invisible pulse that pushed him back, warning him to keep his distance.

“No!” I cried out, starting to lose my voice. My heart burned, and I wanted to fight my way out of Jovi and Phoenix’s grip, but my knees weakened as the whispers smacked me with a hard dose of reality.

He’s mine… said the hissing in my head.

Five Destroyers spilled out from the staircase and onto the platform—they must have escaped from the allied forces storming the castle—and they stopped and stared in disbelief, their eyes flickering green as they saw the snake pendant dangling from Draven’s hand.

“No, this can’t be…” Azazel gasped.

Asherak’s voice became clearer in my head. In all our heads.

He is strong…

“No!” Azazel bellowed. “No! You can’t do this!”

He is powerful… More powerful than you ever were… He’s fit to be a Master Druid, and it only took him a few months to learn… I can smell his energy… It’s… It’s delicious…

“No, you can’t,” I whimpered. “Don’t, Draven, I beg you! Don’t! It’s too dangerous! You’ll be lost!”