The puddle of molten silver sizzled on the black marble floor, filling the private dining chamber with a sharp, burnt metallic odour. It was a casual display of elemental power, meant to underscore one terrifying truth: every weapon Ezra could conceive of was useless against Lord Valerian.
Ezra watched the liquid metal cool into a useless slag, her spine rigid against the velvet backing of the chair. Her heart, already beating at a sustained, rapid Vampire pace, did not falter.
"The final, fatal weapon," Ezra echoed, her voice devoid of fear. "You are correct, Lord Valerian. I do not. But then, you are not bound by mortal rules of warfare, are you? You have only just proven that your greatest weakness is your certainty."
Val leaned back, the satisfied smile never leaving his lips. "My certainty is that you are the Creatrix Regium. And while you believe you are merely a small, vampire—a delightful bit of deception, I must admit—I know what is required to bind my own destiny. You, Ezra, are the convergence of bloodlines, the sovereign element that will stabilize my combined power."
He picked up a piece of sliced fowl from his plate, a gesture so ordinary it felt surreal in the context of their conversation. "I have waited centuries for this. I have maintained the political fiction of the King's sovereignty in Atheria for this. I will not risk the culmination of destiny on the whim of a desperate mortal or a frightened Vampire."
"And yet," Ezra pressed, refusing to let him maintain control of the conversation, "you have just risked your 'eternal existence' on a bargain with a solicitor who knows your weakness. You left him and my sister alive, Lord Valerian. Not as collateral, but as leverage. You assume their loyalty will ensure mine."
"Assumption is unnecessary," Val countered smoothly. "Their presence in Rosewood Lane ensures your focus remains here, in Veridia. You care for the mortal and the weaker creature; I exploit that affection." He paused, his glowing eyes darkening slightly.
"But you are astute, Ezra. You grasp the fundamentals of coercion quickly.
This is good. It proves the strength of mind required for the role of Creatrix Regium."
He pushed the wine decanter toward her. "You are not accustomed to the atmosphere of Veridia. The cold and the raw elemental energy are taxing, even on one of your inherited lineage. Drink. The wine is mortal, but the sustenance will help."
Ezra ignored the wine. Instead, she slowly picked up the fork, assessing the metal and the precision of the dining set. She focused on the food, determined to eat enough to maintain her strength, but without revealing any dependency.
"The ritual is in one night of the new moon," Ezra stated, her mind pivoting to practical evasion. "That leaves us little time to understand the terms of this mutual destruction. Lady Lyra explained the fatal co-dependence of the Binding. Does it have other consequences? Does it alter my ability to sustain myself? To resist a human cold?"
Val watched her intently as she forced herself to chew the meat, appreciating her focus on the strategic rather than the emotional. "The Binding is not a curse, but an ultimate union. Your strength will be enhanced, your lifespan solidified against any mortal threat, and your ability to channel the raw elemental power of Veridia will be awakened. As for sustenance," he paused, a hint of something dark and ancient entering his voice, "once bound, you will require the sustenance of the Nexus—my own."
Ezra froze, the food suddenly tasteless in her mouth. "Your sustenance?"
"The composite blood," Lord Valerian clarified, leaning closer. "The binding requires a symbiotic connection. You will cease to be merely a Fae-Lesser Vampire. You will be my anchor, and I, in turn, will be your source. The final severance from the need for mortal blood."
This was a profound, immediate threat to her remaining independence. To be bound to him, soul-deep, and physically reliant on his mixed, Abomination blood was a captivity far deeper than stone walls.
"You expect me to rely on the blood of the creature who just kidnapped me?" Ezra challenged, setting her fork down with a sharp clink.
"It is destiny, Ezra. And necessity," Val stated, his tone firm. "I assure you, my blood is far more potent than the miserable human vintage your father sourced from Atheria's physicians. You will find it… addictive."
He stood suddenly, ending the dinner with the abruptness of a King who had finished a declaration. The chair scraped against the marble floor.
"You have sustained yourself, and you have received the necessary truths," Lord Valerian announced. "Now, you will retire. Kaelen will ensure your passage is secure, and you will begin to acclimate to the presence of your future partner. Do not attempt escape. You cannot survive the transition outside of Veridia's protection without my aid."
He offered her no hand, no gesture of comfort. He simply turned and vanished through a concealed door in the far wall, leaving her with the cold, silent truth of her absolute dependency.
Ezra stared at the empty space where Val had stood, the warmth of the room suddenly feeling like an oppressive weight. She rose slowly, her eyes drawn to the wine left untouched on the table. It seemed too simple, too obvious. She moved towards the liquid metal slag where her revolver had been—the only remnant of her human life.
As she knelt, her acute vampire sense caught a faint, chemical scent, not of wine or fowl, but something subtly sweet, barely masked by the spices. It was strongest near the wine decanter and the uneaten fruit on her side of the table.
Lord Valerian had not simply offered her sustenance; he had attempted to introduce a mild sedative to her dinner. He intended to ensure her compliance began long before the night of the new moon.