Blood Match

Chapter 43: The Ink of Destiny

Leo turned the page and found it blank. He looked at Liam. Liam looked down, confused, touching the page. Suddenly, ink began to run from where Liam’s fingers had touched the book, words filling in as if written by an invisible hand.

“Leo, what’s happening?” Liam watched the words spread from his fingertips across the page.

No hi ha Divina sense la Corona de Foc
La Corona fou amagada fa molt de temps per tal que mai no fos destruïda
Quan lo Cor és Vertader, la Corona apareix e la Divina ascendeix
Beneïda sia la corona, lo foc vertader de la Divina.

Liam looked at Leo, questions written all over his face. Leo looked down and read the words as they appeared—translating the ancient Catalan script as he spoke.

“There is no Divina without the Crown of Fire.

The Crown was hidden long ago so that it might never be destroyed.

When the Heart is True, the Crown appears and the Divina ascends.

Blessed be the crown, the true fire of the Divina.”

Liam pulled his hand away from the page. Instantly, the writing faded, leaving the page blank once more.

Aditya and Tristan had watched everything in silence.

“It seems that this book is connected to both of you,” Aditya said. “It reacted to your presence, and it revealed its secrets when Liam touched it.”

Liam looked at Leo. “This is the second mention of the Crown of Fire. What does it mean?”

Leo took Liam’s hand. “I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out—together. Still, it will have to wait. We have a Yule celebration to host.”

Liam glanced back at the book on the lectern, hesitation flickering in his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Leo said gently. “It’s safe here. It’s waited six hundred years—it can wait a little longer.”

He tugged Liam toward the vault door. As they stepped out with Aditya and Tristan behind them, the door slid closed with a soft whisper, resealing itself, concealing its presence once again.

Gabriel sat in the hotel lobby, calmly waiting. He was showered, dressed, and fortified with vodka on the rocks. Something big was coming—he could feel it—but the alcohol had taken the edge off. He’d done his part. Now it was time to enjoy the show and hope Marlowe and Gideon would be the ones hopping from the frying pan into the proverbial fire.

He spotted Harrison arriving with Stephan close behind. One look told him something was off. Gabriel knew that haunted, harried expression—had seen it often enough in the metal mirrors back at the Blood Farm. Whatever happened at their little party last night, Harrison had come out the other side changed. Predator no longer. Prey, maybe.

Marlowe and Gideon exited the elevator, a beautiful woman Gabriel had seen the night before on Gideon’s arm. Gabriel stood waiting as they approached. He kept his eyes lowered, but his spine was straight—a whisper of pride in his bearing.

Marlowe gave him a once-over before taking his arm.

“My, Gabby,” she purred in his ear. “I hardly recognized you. You do clean up awfully well.”

Gabriel might have shivered in fear—if not for the liquid courage burning quietly in his veins.

He noticed Harrison’s posture: the barely restrained energy thrumming beneath his skin, the furtive glances, the longing in his eyes whenever they drifted toward Gideon.

Gideon ignored him, basking in the discomfort that grew minute by minute. Then, finally, he spoke.

“Harrison,” he said smoothly, a slight smile playing at his lips, “it’s good to see you looking so well after last night.”

Gabriel caught the faint shiver that ran through Harrison before he managed to compose himself. The balance had shifted—dramatically. Gideon was on top now, and Harrison knew it.

Liam watched as Leo slipped on his jacket. He had opted to go shirtless again—just like that first night in the gallery.

Liam’s breath caught. This man was midnight thunder and flashing lightning.

Around him, power shimmered in waves—indigo and silver coruscations dancing in the air, a nimbus of energy that crowned him in living darkness.

Liam crossed the room and stood beside him. Together, they looked into the mirror. Tonight, they had chosen matching black tuxedos from the same designer.

Liam took Leo’s hand. As he gazed at the man who had become his center of gravity, he saw it clearly.

Where Leo radiated the indigo and silver of the night, Liam glowed with the rose and gold of the dawn.

Their auras shimmered and intertwined—like the sky in that sacred moment where night kisses the first rays of morning.

Leo looked at him. “Ready?”

Liam held his gaze, voice soft but steady. “Let them come.”

Kara stepped to the top of the main staircase as everyone gathered in the entry hall. She took a deep breath as the orchestra began to play the processional. Every eye rose to watch her descent.

A midnight-blue silk gown cascaded like the night sky itself, its chiffon overlay drifting ethereally with each movement.

The bodice gleamed with sparkling beads arranged like constellations, catching light in brilliant azure flashes. Delicate evergreen embroidery spiraled upward from the skirt, intertwining with crystalline stars that grew more numerous as they ascended.

Emerald jewels served as focal points, their depths complementing the midnight backdrop. The unencumbered hem swept dramatically across the floor—a midnight tide leaving only gasps and whispers in its wake.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, a stillness fell over the crowd. One by one, every guest dropped to their knees before her—Leo and Liam at the forefront, with Joseph kneeling just behind them.

After a moment of reverence, Leo and Liam rose, and the rest followed suit.

Joseph stepped forward and offered his arm. Kara placed her hand gently over his, accepting the unspoken invitation. Together, they walked into the great hall, and the gathered immortals fell into procession behind her.