The air felt charged, waiting for something to snap. Every breath carried a faint hum that prickled skin and lingered in ears. Not sound exactly—more like pressure, anticipation that settled into the walls around us.
Mira's arms were steady around me, but tension ran through her grip. Her fingers pressed into my back like she needed something solid to hold. Her breath brushed the top of my head, uneven and strained, heartbeat thudding against my cheek in an almost frantic rhythm.
The sitting room wasn't warm despite morning light filtering weakly through curtains. The light struggled to reach corners where shadows lingered too long.
Lucien stood at the center table, posture rigid. Jagged fragments were spread before him—dark, glass-like surfaces catching dim light in ways that made them seem alive. His hands gripped the table's edge so tight I thought the wood might splinter.
Charlotte stood by the window, gaze fixed on something outside but not really seeing it. Arms crossed, weight shifted to one leg, but her fingers drummed against her arm. Her sword hung at her side, hilt catching faint glimmers when she moved.
Mira stopped near the doorway, body half-turned like she was ready to bolt. Her grip on me tightened as her eyes darted between Lucien and the fragments. "What is that thing?"
Lucien didn't look up from the shards. "I found it in the Reliquary." His jaw clenched. "Protected by wards that were still holding after all this time."
"The what now?" Charlotte turned from the window, eyebrow raised.
"The Reliquary. Where the family kept their most... significant artifacts." Lucien's fingers traced the air above one fragment without touching it.
Mira's breath hitched. "And you brought it here? To where he is?" Her voice climbed higher. "Are you insane?"
Lucien's jaw tightened. "I decided to get to it before whatever's been affecting this place did it for me."
"What is it exactly?" Mira demanded.
"I think..." Lucien hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "I think it's a Bloodshard Amulet. The fragments match descriptions from the old texts, but I've never seen one intact."
Charlotte muttered. "So we have no idea what it actually does."
"The texts mention it being used to track bloodline connections. Map them." Lucien gestured to the fragments. "If the Redthorns created this, it might show us how the curse is spread through the family line."
Mira shifted me in her arms, stepping back from the table. "Or it might make things worse."
"Everything makes things worse right now," Lucien snapped. "At least this gives us a direction."
The tension in the room spiked. I felt it through Mira's grip, saw it in Charlotte's straightening posture.
"A direction toward what?" Mira's voice was tight. "You keep talking like you know what we're dealing with, but we don't know anything. We're just guessing and hoping we don't get him killed in the process.
Lucien's hands clenched into fists. "I know that. I'm aware that every choice we make could—"
"Could what?" Mira interrupted. "Could hurt him? Could make the curse stronger? Could turn him into some kind of vessel for that thing we fought?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Because right now it feels like we're just stumbling around in the dark while something hunts our son."
Charlotte stepped between them before Lucien could respond. "Fighting won't help anyone." She looked at Lucien. "What do the texts actually say about these amulets?"
Lucien exhaled sharply. "Not much. They were tools of the old bloodline magic. Used to trace family connections, identify heirs, sometimes to transfer power..." He paused. "The last part might be why the thing affecting us is so interested."
"Transfer power how?" Mira's voice was barely above a whisper.
"The texts don't specify. But if someone wanted to claim a bloodline that wasn't theirs..." Lucien shrugged helplessly. "This would be one way to do it."
The silence that followed was heavy with implications.
"So we're looking at something that might help us," Charlotte said slowly, "or might give whatever's hunting us exactly what it needs to take him over completely."
"Pretty much." Lucien's honesty was brutal.
Mira made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. "Great. Just great."
The fragments on the table pulsed with crimson light that rippled across their surfaces erratically. Up close they didn't just look sharp—they looked hungry, like they were waiting for something to feed on.
Mira lowered herself into a chair, settling me in her lap. Her hands rested on my back, but I felt the stiffness in her movements, muscles coiled with unease. She kept staring at the shards, gaze wary and unblinking.
"So what's the plan?" Charlotte asked. "We just... touch them and hope for the best?"
"The texts mentioned they needed to be assembled in a specific pattern." Lucien reached for one of the larger fragments, movements slow and deliberate. "But the descriptions were vague. Something about letting the blood remember its shape."
The moment Lucien's fingers brushed the shard's edge, the air shifted. Subtle at first, like the room holding its breath. Then the shard pulsed violently, sending energy ripples across the table that made other fragments tremble.
Mira flinched, arms curling around me protectively. "Lucien—"
"I know." His voice was sharp but steady.
I felt it—the way the shard reached for something inside me, pulling at an ache I didn't know existed.
Charlotte moved closer, steps careful and measured. "Maybe if we—"
"No," Mira snapped, tone hard and final. "We're not using him as some kind of magical detector."
Lucien glanced at her but didn't argue. He shifted focus back to the shards, hands moving carefully as he tried fitting one piece with another. The moment edges touched, sharp energy burst out, scattering fragments across the table and floor.
Charlotte's hand shot out, catching one mid-air with inhuman reflexes. She examined it briefly before setting it back on the table. "It's fighting us."
Lucien sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "The blood remembers, but we're not the right blood."
"What does that mean?" Mira asked.
"It means," Charlotte said grimly, "that it wants him to do it."
Mira's face went pale. "Absolutely not."
"We might not have a choice," Lucien said quietly. "If the amulet only responds to Redthorn blood—"
"He's a baby!" Mira's voice cracked. "He can't even hold his own head up, let alone piece together some cursed artifact!"
"The magic doesn't care about his age," Charlotte said gently. "Bloodline magic responds to what you are, not what you can do."
"Then we find another way," Mira said firmly.
Lucien stared at the scattered fragments, jaw working. "There might not be another way."
"There's always another way," Mira muttered, but her voice lacked conviction.
Lucien tried again, movements slower and more deliberate. Each shard pulsed brighter when he touched it, crimson light flashing erratically like the amulet was actively resisting him.
Charlotte stood close, hand hovering near her sword. Her eyes tracked every movement, ready to step in if things went wrong.
Mira stayed seated, arms wrapped tightly around me. I felt tension radiating off her, the way her breath hitched every time the shards pulsed. Her fingers brushed my back, but the motion did little to mask her unease.
When Lucien placed what looked like the final piece, the reaction was immediate.
The fragments erupted in blinding crimson light that filled the room. Energy lashed out wildly, uncontrolled and chaotic.
Mira ducked, shielding me with her body as the blast knocked Lucien backward. He hit the wall with a grunt of pain, sliding down to the floor.
Charlotte didn't hesitate. She stepped into the chaos, reaching for the fragments. Energy wrapped around her arm like burning tendrils. Her face twisted in pain but she didn't stop.
"Charlotte!" Mira's voice was sharp with panic.
Charlotte gritted her teeth, moving closer to the swirling mass of light and broken amulet pieces. "I can stabilize it."
"You don't know what it'll do to you!"
Charlotte's jaw clenched but she didn't waver. Her hand closed around the largest fragment, energy surging to envelop her in blinding light.
For a moment, everything went still.
Then the light dimmed to a steady pulse.
Charlotte stumbled back, breathing ragged, face pale. Her legs buckled and she sank to the floor, the now-whole amulet clutched in her trembling hand.
Mira was up instantly, holding me tight as she rushed to Charlotte's side. "Charlotte—"
"I'm fine," Charlotte said weakly, though she clearly wasn't. She held out the amulet, hand shaking. "It worked."
Lucien pushed himself to his feet, movements slow and pained. He took the amulet, turning it over in his hands. As the light shifted, markings became visible etched into its surface—lines and symbols that seemed to move and connect.
"It's a map," Lucien said, voice low with awe.
Mira's eyes narrowed, gaze flicking between him and the amulet. "A map of what?"
Lucien's lips pressed into a thin line. "The bloodline connections. And..." He paused, studying the shifting markings. "Something else. Points of power maybe. Or weakness."
"Can you read it?" Charlotte asked, still catching her breath.
"Some of it." Lucien frowned at the amulet. "There are concentration points marked throughout the estate. Places where the bloodline magic is strongest." He looked up at us. "Including one directly beneath this room."
The silence stretched uncomfortably.
"Beneath us," Mira repeated slowly. "Right now."
Lucien nodded grimly. "Which explains why the fragments reacted so strongly here. We're sitting on top of one of the focal points."
"So what do we do with this information?" Charlotte asked.
Lucien studied the amulet's shifting markings. "We follow the map. Find the other focal points. If we can understand the pattern, maybe we can figure out how to break it."
"Or," Mira said darkly, "we walk right into whatever trap this thing has been setting for us."
"Maybe," Lucien admitted. "But right now, it's the only lead we have."