Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Roxy?”
“Twenty-six wolves positioned. Two patrolling the garden maze, six in reserve.” Her voice held the controlled tension of a hunt leader. “No movement from the main house, but something feels wrong. The air tastes of ozone.”
Bastien trusted Roxy’s instincts. Pack alphas and their betas survived by reading atmospheric pressure, by sensing disturbance before it manifested.
“Maman?”
“Wards are holding, but barely.” Her voice carried strain. “Whatever that fae has been brewing inside, it's pressing against reality like a tumor. Much more, and the Veil breach surge won't be our doing—it'll be his.”
Bastien absorbed the reports while studying the opera house through binoculars. Three stories of corrupted architecture, windows that reflected dawn light in patterns assaulting to the senses. Maestro had chosen his stronghold well—isolated enough for privacy, grand enough for his ego, old enough to anchor deep enchantments.
“Thirty seconds,” Bastien announced. “Remember—we're not here to kill Maestro. We're here to stop whatever ritual he's planning for tether acceleration. Incapacitate, contain, extract intelligence.”
He drew the Votum Aeternum blade from its sheath. The ceremonial weapon hummed with recognition, its edge designed to cut through magical barriers rather than flesh. Around him, the alliance made final preparations—vampires checking their speed enhancements, wolves shifting to hybrid forms, practitioners lighting blessed candles that would provide guidance through fae illusions.
“Mark.”
Vincent's coven moved first, flowing across rooftops like living shadow. Glass shattered as they descended through skylights, their speed turning entry into controlled chaos. The opera house's protective wards flared silver-white, then shattered under coordinated assault.
Roxy’s pack followed seconds later, flooding through garden entrances in a wave of fur and fang. Their howls echoed between mansions, primal sounds that made sleeping humans lock their doors without understanding why.
Bastien and Maman's practitioners took the main entrance, the Votum Aeternum carving through Maestro's defensive barriers like paper. Wood splintered under force as they breached the foyer.
The interior had been transformed. Maestro had gutted the original architecture, replacing box seats and orchestra pit with a vast ritual chamber. Concentric circles covered the floor—not salt or chalk, but symbols burned directly into hardwood with precision that spoke of decades of preparation.
At the center, Maestro waited.
The fae stood motionless within a protective circle, his perfectly tailored suit unmarked by the chaos erupting around him. His smile never wavered as vampires and wolves poured into his sanctuary.
“Bastien,” he said, his voice carrying over combat without effort. “Right on schedule. Though I confess, I expected you to bring the girl.”
“Where are the ritual fragments?” Bastien advanced with the blade raised. “What are you planning?”
“Planning?” Maestro laughed, a sound like breaking crystal. “My dear angel, the planning is finished. The ritual began the moment your alliance crossed my threshold.”
The floor symbols blazed to life.
Bastien felt the surge before he saw it—raw magical energy erupting from the ritual circles, seeking release through the path of least resistance. But instead of channeling outward, the power turned inward, boring through reality itself.
The Veil breach surge tore space apart.
The Lacroix estate, 1762. Charlotte stood in the center of a similar circle, her white dress whipping in supernatural wind as she channeled power that burned her mortal frame. “The barrier won't hold!” she screamed over the roar of collapsing reality. “Something's coming through!” Her hands blazed with golden light as she threw everything she had against the dimensional breach, skin cracking from the strain. “I can seal it, but not from this side!” The look she gave him in that moment—love and terror and absolute determination. “Remember me, mon ange. Remember what we choose.” She stepped forward into the breach itself, her body burning away as she sealed the tear with her life.
The memory struck as reality cracked around him. The opera house walls became transparent, revealing layers of existence human minds couldn't process. Through the breach, shapes moved—tall figures in flowing darkness, their attention turning toward this small tear in the fabric of space.
Collectors. And they were coming through.
“Fall back!” Bastien's command cut through the chaos. “Everyone out! Now!”
The alliance responded with supernatural efficiency. Vampires flowed up through skylights while wolves bounded through shattered windows. Maman's practitioners grabbed their materials and retreated, laying covering spells as they withdrew.
But the breach was expanding.
Maestro's laughter followed them as they fled. “Did you think this was about fragments, about binding spells? This was always about opening doors! Your precious Delphine is the key, and the lock is already turning!”
Bastien felt the alliance behind him, preparing to retreat, but he had to understand. "Why?" he shouted over the growing dimensional storm. "If you want her transformation, why bring entities that will destroy her?"
Maestro's expression shifted, revealing something almost like pity beneath his theatrical malice. "You still don't understand, do you, mon ange? The transformation Charlotte began requires absolute desperation. Delphine will never willingly become what she must be—too human, too cautious, too afraid of losing herself." His voice carried over the roar of collapsing reality. "But faced with entities that can erase her from existence itself? Survival instinct will awaken power she doesn't know she possesses."