LordValerian did not use the grand, imposing architecture of Veridia's central spire as his retreat. Instead, he sought the quiet solitude of his personal archive—a library carved deep beneath the city's foundations, where the true, immutable ElementalEarth of the world provided cold, steady silence.
He stood before a massive stone shelf, his hand resting on a tome bound in ancient dragonhide. He had left Ezra—the beautiful, irritatingly defiant contradiction—in her opulent prison, and now, he required the quiet discipline of history to reset the chaos her unexpected rebellion had introduced.
He was not accustomed to delay, nor was he accustomed to defiance. He had arranged the sedative with surgical precision, designed to soften the sharp edge of her fear and allow a more amenable introduction to Veridia's atmosphere. Her immediate discovery of the attempt was a testament to the heightened senses of her Vampire blood—and to a mind sharper than he had credited a society daughter from Atheria with possessing.
She is strong, and she is wary, Val mused, his fingers tracing the cold runes carved into the book's spine.
She has the courage required of the Creatrix Regium, but she still believes in the flimsy armor of human morality.
The planned dinner was intended to be the start of her psychological conditioning. His primary goal was not to crush her will, but to transfer her reliance from her father's human protection to his own overwhelming power. The attempted sedation was merely a means to accelerate acceptance. Her defiance proved that the Fae spirit within her—the sovereign lineage he required—was vibrant, even if she foolishly believed it was weak.
Val walked to a simple writing desk carved from black onyx, where a crystalline orb pulsed with a faint, internal light, fueled by latent ElementalAir. He looked into the orb, not to scry the future, but to confirm the absolute historical necessity of the Binding.
The prophecy was clear: his own unstable composite power—the feared Abomination—required the purity of the Creatrix Regium the creator of the faes to fuse the four elements into a stable, supreme force. His lineage was a paradox: a terrifying power that risked implosion without the proper anchor.
The Binding was not just a political marriage; it was an act of magical physics.
He recalled the moment he had traced the prophecy scroll across the scrying mirror, confirming the signal had locked onto Ezra Finch in RosewoodLane. He had seen the truth beyond the façade of the solicitor's daughter—he had seen the potent, sovereign Fae blood mingled with the sustained longevity of the Vampire. Her own denial was merely a protective mechanism, a self-deception born from her father's desperate fear of exposure.
He had left her father and sister alive not merely for leverage, but for strategic patience. Val knew that the strength of the Creatrix Regium was intrinsically linked to her loyalties. A completely broken or terrified woman would be a weak anchor for the Binding. He needed her fierce spirit intact, just pointed in his direction.
She needs to understand that I am not just her captor, but her source.
This thought led him to the darkest, most private knowledge of his unique existence. He remembered the last time he had offered his sustenance—his combined, potent bloodlines—to another. It had been centuries ago, to a powerful Witch who believed she could harness his energy without consequence. She had failed, consumed by the sheer force of the composite elements, her soul reduced to dust. Val had learned then that his blood was poison to any who were not his true, destined counterpart.
Ezra, he knew, would be different. She was the destined vessel. And the fatal co-dependence of the Binding was the only way to ensure both their survival and their eternal power.
He ran a hand across the dragonhide tome, his eyes narrowing. Ezra would soon be the second person to taste the full, terrifying power of his composite bloodlines. This was the only ritual, the only test that truly mattered.
He summoned Kaelen to his study with a sharp mental command. The Demon appeared silently, kneeling.
"The girl refused the sedative," Val stated, his tone flat. "Adjust the schedule. She requires a demonstration of necessity before the Binding. Inform Lady Lyra that she will begin the preparatory rituals immediately. The subject is too resilient for coddling."
Kaelen waited, sensing the Lord's next command.
"And send a message to RosewoodLane," LordValerian continued, his eyes cold and unwavering. "A simple message, delivered precisely to her father, I want him to know that if the CreatrixRegium should require sustenance that is not mine, he will be the first one to provide it."
Kaelen nodded, understanding the chilling implication of the threat: Valerian would compel Ezra to feed on her own father to break her spirit, forcing her to rely on him alone.
As the Demon rose to carry out the terrible command, Val dismissed him.
He walked back to the window, gazing out over the dark, sprawling majesty of Veridia. He noticed a sudden surge of activity in the elemental forge at the base of the spire. A new, massive metal object was being crafted, specifically for the Binding ceremony.
Itwas a ceremonial collar of intricate iron and cold silver, designed to be placed around the neck of the bride—not for restraint, but for the immediate, forceful transfusion of blood at the beginning of the soul-merge.