CHAPTER 393: THE SEARCH

Vincent/Vaelthor~

I stormed out of the palace gates, the cool rain slapping against my face like a mocking reminder of the bond I’d just shattered. My chest ached with a hollow, throbbing pain that radiated from my core, as if someone had carved out a piece of my soul and left it bleeding on the gym floor. Katrina’s cries echoed in my mind—"Vincent... no... it hurts... why?"—but I pushed them down, burying them under layers of rage and desperation. Sylthara—my little sister, my Winter—was out there somewhere, alone and broken, and I had to find her. She’d blocked me completely, severing our mental link like a guillotine blade. No matter how hard I reached out, probing the shadows for her familiar essence, I hit nothing but empty void. Frustration boiled in my veins, hot and unrelenting, making my shadows twitch and coil around my fingers like agitated snakes.

The Golden City sprawled before me, its glittering lights a farce of peace and prosperity. Tall spires of the royal district pierced the sky, illuminated by enchanted lanterns that spilled golden hues on the cobblestone streets. People milled about—werewolves in their human forms laughing with vampires, even a few witches hawking charms from street carts—oblivious to the storm brewing in my heart. I scanned the area, my enhanced senses picking up the distant hum of traffic, the scent of rain everywhere, and the faint, lingering trail of Sylthara’s dark energy. It was weak, diluted by distance, but it pointed outward, away from this cursed place. She wouldn’t stay here; she was too smart, too guarded. She’d flee the city entirely, seeking solace in the shadows beyond its borders.

I needed help, but pride warred with necessity. My eyes landed on a parked car nearby—a sleek black sedan idling at the curb, its engine purring softly. The driver was inside, scrolling on his phone, but no one else seemed to be paying attention. I glanced around cautiously, my calculating mind assessing threats. A couple strolled by arm-in-arm, lost in conversation; a guard patrolled the palace perimeter a block away, his back turned. The coast was clear. I approached the car, leaning against the passenger side, and stared into the reflective glass of the window. My own face stared back—pale skin taut with anger, dark eyes burning with that dangerous charm I usually wielded like a weapon. But now, it was cracked, vulnerable.

I whispered the name of the only person that could help under my breath three times, my breath fogging the glass. "Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, heed my call. Appear in the mirror."

The reflection shimmered, rippling like water disturbed by a stone. My image faded, replaced by Nancy’s smirking face. She looked crazy just like always. Her: wild curly hair the color of midnight, eyes gleaming with ancient mischief, her witch’s robes adorned with glowing runes. She looked amused, tilting her head as if I’d just told a mildly entertaining joke.

"Well, Vincent sweetheart," she drawled, her voice echoing slightly through the glass, tinny but clear. "To what do I owe this unexpected summons? It’s too soon. Besides that, you look like hell warmed over. Trouble in paradise?"

I clenched my jaw, glancing once more to ensure no one was watching. The driver inside remained oblivious, thanks to a subtle shadow illusion I’d woven to mask my presence. "Nancy, cut the games. I need your help. Everything’s gone to shit."

She arched an eyebrow, leaning forward in her ethereal image as if pressing against the glass. "Oh? Do tell. Last I heard, you were playing the long game with that little princess of yours. Talking about rejections and whatnot. What happened? Did the mate bond finally bite you in the ass?"

I leaned closer, my voice a low hiss, laced with the raw emotion I could no longer contain. "Sy—Winter—she’s in trouble. Nicholas found out what she is. Our heritage, our demonic blood. He rejected her, saw her as a monster. She reached out to me mentally, hysterical, blaming herself. Said she abandoned the plans we made for the royals because of this ’stupid love.’ Then she blocked me. Completely. I can’t reach her, can’t sense her fully. She’s out there alone, and I... I rejected Katrina. Snapped the bond to protect what’s left of my family."

Nancy’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her features before she masked it with a chuckle. "Oh, Vincent. You rejected your mate? That’s bold, even for you. The pain must be excruciating. And now your sister’s gone rogue. Poetic, isn’t it? The children of darkness, undone by love’s light."

"Save the poetry," I snapped, my fists balling at my sides. Shadows flickered across the glass, responding to my agitation. "I need you to find her. Scry her location, use your mirrors or your spells—whatever it takes. You’re the only one I trust with this. Please, Nancy. I’m begging you."

She paused, her expression turning calculative, like a predator sizing up prey. "Begging? From the ambitious Vincent? That’s new. But darling, you’ve already asked so much from me for free. The spells to mask your aura when you infiltrated the palace, the illusions to hide your true nature... I’ve been generous because of our... history. But this? Locating a wayward demoness who’s blocked even her brother’s link? That’s no small feat. I can’t assist you anymore without a price."

My heart sank, but I wasn’t surprised. Witches like Nancy always had an angle. "What do you want? Name it. Gold? Artifacts from the shadow realm? Power? I’ll get it for you even if I had to steal them."

She smiled, slow and wicked, her teeth flashing in the reflection. "Oh, nothing so mundane, Vincent. I want something more... personal. I want every bit of love you received from Katrina this few days you spent with her. That sweet, intoxicating affection she poured into you—the mate bond’s warmth, the happiness, the feelings that made even a demon like you feel alive. All you have to do is say the words: ’Take it all.’ And it’ll transfer to me. I’ll feel what she felt for you, savor it like fine wine. In return, I’ll find your sister."

I froze, the words catching in my throat. I’d rejected Katrina, spat on our bond in a fit of rage, but... the love? That lingering echo of joy, the way her blue eyes lit up when she looked at me, the softness of her reddish-blonde hair against my skin during our stolen moments? Even now, amid the pain, those memories clung to me like shadows in the dawn. They were mine—twisted, complicated, but mine. To give them up... to let Nancy claim them... it felt like surrendering the last shred of something real I’d ever had. Weakness washed over me, a vulnerability I despised.

"I... I can’t," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with regret I hadn’t expected. "Never mind. I’ll find Winter myself."

Nancy threw her head back and laughed, a rich, throaty sound that vibrated through the glass. "Oh, Vincent, you poor fool. Still clinging to that spark of humanity, even after everything. Fine, suit yourself. But if you ever change your mind—and trust me, the pain of a broken bond only gets worse— you know how to find me. Just whisper my name to any reflective surface. Ta-ta for now."

Her image faded, the glass returning to my own haunted reflection. I pushed away from the car, frustration morphing into determination. I wouldn’t let this break me. Sylthara was out there, and I’d tear the world apart to find her. Spotting a yellow cab idling at the corner, its "Available" sign glowing like a beacon, I flagged it down. The driver, a burly man with a scruffy beard and tired eyes, rolled down the window.

"Where to, kid?" he grumbled, eyeing my disheveled state—rumpled clothes from the gym, hair wild from running.

I slid into the back seat, the leather creaking under me. The interior smelled of stale coffee and cheap air freshener, a mundane contrast to the chaos in my mind. "Out of the city. Head north, toward the border forests. And step on it."

He snorted, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "That’s vague. Got a specific destination? Toll’s gonna add up."

I met his gaze, letting my shadows seep into my eyes, darkening them to inky black. A subtle manipulation—nothing overt, just enough to bend his will. "You don’t need details. Just drive. Leave the Golden City behind. Now."

His expression slackened, a glaze coming over his features as my power took hold. "Yeah... sure thing. Leaving the city. North it is."

The cab lurched forward, tires squealing slightly as we merged into traffic. Streetlights blurred into streaks of gold and white, the city’s skyline receding in the side mirror. I leaned back, closing my eyes, trying to focus on Sylthara’s faint trail. It tugged northward, toward the wilder lands where shadows thrived—dense forests, forgotten ruins. She was like me: drawn to darkness when hurt. I hoped I was right. Prayed, even, though gods like my father had long abandoned us.

But as the minutes stretched into hours, the pain from the broken mate bond intensified. At first, it was manageable—a dull ache in my chest, like a bruise that throbbed with every heartbeat. I’d pushed through worse: the loss of our mother, the imprisonment of our father. But this was different. It built slowly, insidiously, like poison spreading through my veins. One hour in, it sharpened into stabbing pangs, making me grit my teeth. Sweat beaded on my forehead, my shadows writhing under my skin, trying to absorb the agony but failing.

"Hey, you okay back there?" the driver asked, his voice distant through the haze. My manipulation held, but concern crept in. "You look pale. Need me to pull over?"

I waved him off weakly. "Just... keep driving. I’m fine."

But I wasn’t. The bond’s severance clawed at me, visions flashing unbidden: Katrina’s tear-streaked face as she sank to the floor, her hand outstretched. "Vincent... no... it hurts..." The memory amplified the pain, turning it into a searing fire that radiated from my heart to my limbs. My demonic strength faltered; even my enhanced senses dulled, the world’s sounds muffling into a roar.

Two hours out, as the city lights gave way to dark highways flanked by trees, it became unbearable. Nausea rolled through me, my vision blurring at the edges. Shadows leaked from my pores, filling the cab with inky tendrils that the driver didn’t notice, thanks to my lingering illusion. I clutched the seat, nails digging into the fabric, breathing ragged.

"Stop... no, keep going," I muttered to myself, conflicting commands born of delirium.

The driver glanced back again. "Kid? You sure? You sound like you’re dying."

I tried to respond, to weave more shadows to silence him, but the pain crested like a wave, crashing over me. My body convulsed once, twice, and then darkness swallowed me whole. I slumped against the door, unconscious, the cab hurtling onward into the night.