Chapter Ten: Blood Oaths and Betrayals
Luna was no longer sleeping.
Not because she couldn't.
But because she wouldn't.
She needed to keep moving, keep plotting, keep pretending she wasn't about to ask the one man who had ever made her feel complete to kill her—just so she could come back to life.
Every morning, she trained with La Strega Bianca in the underground catacombs. They practiced rituals, poisons, fire spells, and binding enchantments. The witch pushed her like a soldier but spoke to her like a caring mother.
"You weren't meant to be gentle," she reminded Luna. "You're meant to survive."
Meanwhile…
Dominic found himself beneath Rome.
Not the Rome that tourists flock to.
The old Rome. The real one. The one steeped in shadows and secrets.
He moved quietly through the ruins of a chapel long forgotten, a place where the Order performed their most sacred, most violent, and most hidden acts.
He wasn't alone.
Antonio trailed a few steps behind, dressed in priest robes, his face obscured by a cowl. "You're crazy for doing this."
Dominic didn't turn around. "I've been crazy ever since I tasted her blood."
The entrance to the sanctuary was locked by prayer and pain.
Dominic did both.
He recited the verse he'd memorized from a stolen Order tome—"Per ignem, sanguinem, et peccatum…"—and cut his palm over the altar.
The door swung open with a hiss of smoke and the sound of crying children.
They stepped into Hell.
Back at the compound, Luna sat cross-legged, staring at the dagger.
It beckoned her.
Not with words.
But with memories.
She saw her mother, Luciana, in a blood-soaked wedding dress, screaming into the night as the man she loved was ripped from her arms.
She saw wolves ablaze. Chains shattering. Hearts breaking.
She saw Dominic, hovering over her body.
Weeping.
Then stabbing her anyway.
She gasped, her eyes snapping open.
The dagger was gone.
Her heart stopped.
She jumped to her feet, scanning the ritual chamber.
Nothing.
No signs of a break-in. No shattered seals.
Just… emptiness.
And fear.
"Mirella!" she yelled, sprinting through the west wing.
No answer.
"Antonio! Renata!"
Silence.
Just the creaking walls and the chilling whisper of betrayal in her ear.
Dominic discovered the scroll before he found the priest.
In a locked drawer behind the altar: a translation of La Purificazione. The real ritual.
And it was worse than he had feared.
"Luna won't just die," he said, his voice rough. "She'll become a conduit. A sacrifice to end all bloodlines. They want to burn her soul to ash."
Antonio looked ill. "Then we stop it."
"Too late," Dominic muttered. "She already agreed."
That night, the wind howled like a mourning widow.
Luna sat in the courtyard, arms wrapped around herself, watching the approaching storm.
Renata appeared behind her. Silent. Observant.
"He took it," she said.
Luna turned slowly. "Who?"
"Mirella."
Luna blinked. "Mirella's just a girl."
Renata's expression twisted. "Not anymore."
Suddenly, Luna understood.
Mirella hadn't simply taken the dagger.
She'd been working for the Order from the very start.
Mirella moved quickly.
She had to.
The dagger burned her hand through the cloth she wrapped it in, but she didn't stop.
They were waiting.
Elio had promised her a new life. An exalted one. Where she wouldn't have to play second fiddle to Luna. Where she would be the priestess, the queen, the one remembered.
"I'm almost there," she whispered to herself, tears welling in her eyes. "Almost."
But she wasn't.
Because as she neared the gates—
Dominic stood there.
"Put it down," he growled.
Mirella laughed. "Or what? You'll kill me like you're going to kill her?"
"You don't understand what this is."
"I know enough! I know you're both cursed. I know she'll die, and then you'll lose control, and you'll become exactly what they want."
Dominic stepped closer. "You think they'll reward you?"
"I know they will!"
"They'll slaughter you. They'll drain you dry like the others."
"I don't care!" she screamed. "As long as she doesn't get to win."
Dominic halted.
And that's when Luna appeared behind her.
Her voice soft.
"I was never trying to win, Mirella."
Mirella spun around.
Saw her.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"You always win, Luna. You were born with power. Born with beauty. Born to be adored. You don't have to fight for anything."
Luna's voice cracked. "Do you think I wanted this?"
"Yes!" Mirella shouted. "Yes, you did. You started the war. You brought the fire. You brought him."
Her eyes flashed to Dominic. "You made him choose. And he chose you."
The dagger slipped from her hand.
Luna caught it.
And that was when everything shifted.
Back at the sanctuary, Elio sensed the change in magic.
He stood, eyes wild.
"She has the blade," he murmured. "She has chosen."
The flames rose high.
"The countdown begins."
That night, Luna gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
Naked.
Not for allure.
But for honesty.
Her body bore scars now. From battle. From betrayal.
And soon—from death.
Dominic entered without knocking.
He froze when he saw her.
"You're bleeding," he said softly.
She looked down. A shallow cut on her hip. She hadn't noticed it.
"I'm used to it," she whispered.
He approached her.
Gently placed a hand on her cheek.
"You don't have to do this."
"I do."
He closed his eyes.
"I'll lose you."
She touched his chest. "You already did."
They didn't kiss.
Not right away.
They just stood there, savoring each other's presence.
Then his mouth brushed against hers like a vow.
And the heat ignited like a whip.
She found herself on the bed before she realized how she got there.
His mouth moved to her throat.
His hands explored her body like a war he wanted to win and lose all at once.
She arched beneath him.
He growled softly, in Italian.
"Ti voglio. Ti ho sempre voluta. Anche quando non dovevo."
I want you. I've always wanted you. Even when I shouldn't.
The kiss ignited.
The touch was surrender.
And when he entered her, it felt like coming home.
She moaned his name like a prayer.
He whispered hers like a curse.
And somewhere in the storm—they stopped being separate.
Afterward, they lay in silence.
Sweat. Blood. Breath.
"Promise me you'll come back," Dominic murmured.
She met his gaze.
"I promise."
But neither of them really believed it.