Blood Match

Chapter 56: Justice Rising, Mercy Descending

Dawn came too soon, and the manor woke to a flurry of activity. Jeeps and scores of workmen moved out toward the far side of the estate. From the balcony, Liam could see them in the ruins—tiny figures against the gray morning, opening the doors of a chamber that had been sealed for centuries. Tonight, Gideon would be chained at its center to await his encounter with the sun.

He went back inside, pulling the heavy sweater tight against the cold wind that swept through the doorway. Leo was still lying in bed, eyes closed, Tristan’s head resting on his chest. Leo’s arm was wrapped around him protectively. The three of them had returned to the suite together; Tristan had been hesitant to leave, and Liam had realized that he needed more. So they had all climbed into the bed, Tristan between them like parents comforting a child after a bad dream. In that safety, Tristan had fallen asleep—and soon, so had they.

Liam looked at the two people who had become most important in his life. Leo was his absolute center—his breath, his gravity, the force that kept him anchored to the earth. Tristan was the brother he had never known he needed. Over the months they had spent together, they had grown close, and Tristan had become more than just an important part of Leo’s world; he had become a part of Liam’s as well.

Then there was the bond. It was now fully formed—a link that transcended simple connection. It was a living expression of the love they shared, a trinity of emotion.

The manor had woken. Servants moved through the halls with quiet, grim efficiency. Though the immortal inhabitants followed a more traditional vampiric routine and rested until sunset, the manor still buzzed with life as mortal hands went about their daily work.

Liam descended the main staircase and paused at the sight of the maids setting out a large afternoon meal in the dining hall. He assumed the extra food was for the workmen still laboring to open the Sun Chamber in the old castle ruins. The thought of it stirred him, and just as he considered going out to see the progress, Tristan materialized at his side.

“Come on,” Tristan said, grabbing Liam’s hand. As they walked toward the entryway, a maid hurried over with coats and scarves, protection against the winter chill.

“Where are we going?” Liam asked, still a bit confused.

“You want to see the work at the ruins. I’ll drive,” Tristan said, smiling.

“How did you know?” Liam asked.

“I heard you in my head,” Tristan replied softly.

Tristan opened the door, and Liam saw the black jeep idling at the bottom of the steps.

“Efficient as usual,” Liam said, elbowing Tristan lightly as they stood on the top step.

“Your chariot awaits,” Tristan replied with a grin.

Once they were seated in the jeep, the engine humming and the heater blowing warm air against the chill of the Spanish winter, Liam began to relax. Leo was a soft throb in the back of his mind; if he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could almost see him sitting before the fire, reading.

Tristan was quiet, but Liam could feel his energy—restless, searching.

“Alright, Tris,” Liam said gently, turning toward him, “what’s on your mind?”

Tristan hesitated for a moment, as if unsure where to begin.

“Liam, you and Leo have been through so much. When the bond broke, I thought I’d never see either of you again. It was like my heart stopped beating — the bottom dropped out of my world. For a moment, there was only darkness. And then… it was like the whole world burst into flame, and I felt you. The power that came through the bond was unlike anything I’ve ever known. I knew there was hope, because even when I couldn’t feel Leo, I could feel you.”

Liam reached out, resting his hand on Tristan’s arm. “I’m sorry, Tris. It must have been terrifying to lose your connection to Leo — something you’ve had since you were a baby. It must have been devastating when it severed.”

“It was,” Tristan admitted softly, “but then it all reformed in a blinding flash of power. I felt you — and then I could feel Leo again — and suddenly my world was right again.

But Liam, I can feel the difference in you. You’re still Liam… but more somehow.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I guess what I’m asking is, how does being the Crown of Fire affect what Leo, you, and I have? Where do I fit in?”

Liam was silent. He felt the bond tremble as he heard the uncertainty in Tristan’s voice.

He sent warmth and comfort back through the bond. He pictured himself wrapping Tristan in a hug—the joy of their friendship, the gratitude of having him in his life flowing outward with the thought. Liam watched as Tristan’s eyes widened, catching the moment the love rippled across the bond.

Tristan’s eyes grew misty, and he turned away, focusing on the road ahead.

“Tris,” Liam said quietly. He didn’t know exactly when he had begun to call Tristan by that nickname, but he knew it felt right. In the short time he and Leo had been together, Tristan had become an essential part of their lives.

Leo’s bond with Tristan had been the catalyst that drew Liam into this strange, beautiful trinity of souls—Leo, passionate and protective; Liam, grounded and empathetic; and Tristan, the bridge between them, holding the two together with loyalty and quiet steadiness.

“The Crown of Fire wasn’t something that happened to me—it’s who I am. It’s a part of me, maybe one that was buried so deep I couldn’t recognize it myself. But it was always there. I’m still me—the same playful, empathetic, sassy, and caring adopted brother you’ve come to know.”

Liam grinned at Tristan, and after a heartbeat, Tristan grinned back—unable to resist the playfulness in Liam’s smile.

Recognizing that he had eased the ache in Tristan’s heart, Liam turned his gaze to the road ahead as they neared the ruins. He pointed toward a small hill overlooking the site—a place where they could watch the work without disturbing the men below.

Tristan nodded and steered the jeep in the direction Liam indicated.

The jeep climbed steadily over the uneven ground, the sound of the engine and distant hammering growing louder. When they reached the crest of the hill, Tristan cut the engine, and silence settled around them.

Liam stepped out and walked to the top of the rise, looking down into the valley below. Tristan came around the jeep and joined him.

“It feels wrong to unseal this remnant of the past,” Tristan said quietly. His voice carried an unease that lingered as he watched.

Liam didn’t look away from the ruins. “This is about remembrance,” he said. “For justice, and for mercy.”

Tristan nodded, though his expression remained troubled. Beneath them, the work continued—picks striking stone, the old blocks groaning as if in protest.

As they watched, the shape of the entrance began to emerge: a wide archway carved into the cliffside, half-choked with rubble. The sigils above it were still faintly visible—ancient glyphs carved into the rock by hands long dead.

Liam drew in a steady breath. The air was cold, sharp in his lungs. He could almost feel the echoes of the executions that had taken place here—the fear, the struggle, the violence that had marked this place for centuries.

But today would be different. Justice would be tempered with mercy, and a lost soul would be given release.