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She had lived on the edge of both worlds for years, neither fully fae nor fully shifter, and yet the pull of her heritage still haunted her. In the fae realm, purity was everything. The faeclung to it, guarded it with their lives, believing that anything less was unworthy of their power. Elyria had seen what happened to those who strayed too far from that ideal. It was whispered that hers was not the only bloodline tainted by the mortal world.
There had been a warrior once, a fae of great renown, whose life had crumbled under the weight of her love—love for a human. Elyria had heard the stories growing up, about how this fae warrior had fallen from grace for daring to love a creature not of their kind. She had been banished, exiled alongside her sister to the mortal realm, to the chaotic streets of New Orleans, where magic still flowed but in ways unpredictable and wild. Elyria knew that tale well, for the warrior had once been close to her kin.
It was a familiar fate in the fae world, one that Elyria had narrowly avoided. But her exile was not for love—it was for survival. The day her wolf-shifter blood had awoken, she knew she could never return. The fae would never accept her as she was now, a hybrid of magic and beast. Her purity was gone, replaced by instincts that the fae considered crude, base, and uncontrollable.
But Elyria did not truly regret what she had become. There was freedom in it, a power that pulsed through her veins in a way no fae magic ever had. Still, the ache for the fae realm, of the place she could no longer call home, lingered in her heart.
CHAPTER 12
HUNTER
Hunter felt the weight of the darkness as soon as he stepped out of the Range Rover. There had been no visible sign, but the heavy feeling of doom—there was that word again—had descended almost immediately and only got worse as they crossed the threshold into the abbey. The oppressive magic clung to the air, thick and cloying, choking off the benevolence and light that had always been a defining part of this place. He could almost feel it wrapping around him, dragging its claws through his mind like an insidious fog, clouding everything with the stench of danger and deceit.
His senses were on high alert, his muscles tense with the knowledge that something was deeply, dangerously wrong. The abbey had always been a place of sanctuary—a space where the forces of good, of balance, were upheld. But now, with the presence of the witch and the vampire—and perhaps even the fae-shifter—it felt as though the very foundation of that peace was crumbling beneath their feet.
Colby stood beside him, his jaw clenched, his body radiating tension. The lynx-shifter clearly felt it too, even though he wouldn’t say it aloud. Colby shot Hunter a sidelong glance, his mouth twisted in a scowl.
“I don’t like this,” Colby muttered. “Never thought I’d be in a position where I had to invite a vampire into this place—much less two.”
Hunter kept his expression neutral, though he shared Colby’s sentiment. To protect the sanctity of the abbey, they’d kept it sealed against all threats—especially vampires. Now, out of necessity, Colby had been forced to grant the vampire prisoner access, as well as Hunter.
“Don’t worry,” Hunter said, his voice low and steady. “You put him in the dungeon. It’s not like he’ll be wandering the halls.”
“Still,” Colby grumbled. “Feels wrong.”
Itwaswrong, but they had no choice. The vampire they’d captured wasn’t just another rogue. He was a key player in whatever dark scheme was unfolding, and Hunter intended to get answers, no matter what it took.
They moved quickly down the stone corridor toward the abbey’s dungeon, the echoes of their footsteps bouncing off the cold, hard walls. Colby had the vampire secured in one cell and the witch in another, each at opposite ends of the dungeon, far enough apart that they couldn’t use whatever twisted magic had linked them together.
As they reached the heavy iron door leading to the dungeon, Colby hesitated, his hand on the latch. “Adriana cast a protective spell around both the vampire and the witch’s cells,” he said quietly, his eyes flicking to Hunter. “We should be safe from whatever magic she tries to throw our way. But if the vampire gets wind of it…”
Hunter nodded grimly. “He won’t. Not if I can help it.”
Colby pushed the door open, and they stepped into the dungeon’s cold, damp air. The smell of earth and old stone greeted them, a stark contrast to the malevolent magic that hummed just beneath the surface. Hunter could sense thedark energy seeping from the witch’s cell, pulsing against the protective barrier Adriana had erected.
Colby led the way, stopping at the vampire’s cell first. Inside, the vampire sat casually against the far wall, his wrists bound with silver shackles, the gleam of the metal biting into his pale skin. He looked up as they entered, his cold, calculating eyes narrowing as they locked onto Hunter.
“Back for more?” the vampire sneered, his lips curling into a smug smile. “Or are you just here to gloat?”
Hunter didn’t respond immediately, his gaze steady as he assessed the situation. The vampire was playing a game, but Hunter wasn’t in the mood for it.
“We’re here for answers,” Hunter said, his voice flat, no room for negotiation. “You’re going to tell us everything about the ritual, the witch, and what you were trying to accomplish with the fae-shifter.”
The vampire laughed, the sound hollow and mocking. “You think I’ll just hand over that information? Please. You don’t understand the game you’re playing.”
Hunter stepped closer to the bars, his expression hard. “I understand more than you think.”
For a moment, the vampire’s smile faltered, a flicker of unease crossing his features. But it was quickly replaced by his usual arrogance. “You’re wasting your time. I won’t break.”
“We’ll see about that. I have a wolf-shifter friend in New Orleans who happens to be acquainted with some demon-hunting fae who I’m sure would like to know what you and your friend are up to,” Colby growled.
“These are nice,” said Hunter, eyeing a small table they’d set up for the interrogation—an assortment of silver-tipped tools and weapons meant to extract the information they needed by any means necessary.
“Thank you. Some of them are very old, and Adriana tells me have been imbued with some really powerful forms of white magic, some of which are so old that they blur the line between extracting justice and vengeance.”
The vampire’s eyes followed Hunter’s movements, but his confidence didn’t waver. Even so, he ignored Colby and focused on Hunter. “Do what you want. I’ll tell you nothing.”
Hunter leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. “You won’t have a choice.”
