Claimed by the vampire prince

Chapter 506: Chapter 506

A broken, guttural sound tore from his throat.

Then he let her go with a rough shove.

Elka stumbled backward just as Jayran broke apart before her eyes.

A sob ripped from him as he pressed a shaking hand over his eyes, but it did nothing to stop the tears pouring down his face. His entire body trembled uncontrollably, like a tree battered helplessly in the middle of a storm.

It looked as though someone had driven an axe straight into his chest and split him open.

He looked ruined. Broken beyond repair.

Elka stood frozen where she was, though every instinct screamed at her to put more distance between them. Yet she could not move. But his pain and grief felt like a living thing, palpable in the space that separated them.

This was unfamiliar territory to her.

Pain, she understood. Cruelty, she understood. Abuse had shaped nearly every part of her life.

But grief like this?

Love like this?

Those were foreign things.

Jayran looked as though Azul’s death had carved straight through his soul, and as Elka watched this massive, terrifying man crumble beneath the loss, strange thoughts began creeping quietly into her mind.

If she died someday, would anyone in her family mourn her like this?

Would anyone weep over her body?

Would anyone break apart from losing her?

The answer came immediately.

No. No one would.

And that was the difference between her and Azul.

Despite all the terrible things Azul had done, he had still been loved. He still had people who grieved him. People who would shatter over his death.

Elka had never had that and perhaps she never would.

***

Ragnar spent the next two days making discreet inquiries through trusted contacts in search of a dark mage. Word traveled quickly in certain circles, and by the third morning he had a name: Vesper Kaine, a dark blood mage who lived on the outside of the town in a half-forgotten quarter.

Casilo rode with him, silent and watchful, as they approached their final destination. Ragnar dismounted alone and approached the house as he raised his fist to knock.

The mage answered after the third knock. He was older than Ragnar had expected, with a gaunt face and eyes the color of a stormy sky.

"May I have a moment of your time. My name is Prince Ragnar Acheron and I am in need of your services."

Vesper Kaine studied him with ash-colored eyes. "I find it hard to think of matters serious enough to bring the prince to my doorstep."

"I would prefer it if we spoke inside. May I come in?" Ragnar asked.

The mage glanced down at the sword strapped around Ragnar’s waist before meeting his gaze once more. He stepped aside. "Come in."

The mage guided him through his home and into a room where he did the bulk of his enchantments, and while they walked, Ragnar briefed him on his current situation.

The air smelled of charred herbs and old parchment. Ragnar sat on the low stool the man offered him and rolled up his sleeve.

Vesper examined his arm briefly. "Describe the block again."

"It feels like a wall where my shadows should flow freely," Ragnar said. "I need the shadows back."

Vesper nodded once. "I can remove it. But it will not be pleasant. Blood magic demands its price. You may scream if you must. The walls are thick."

"I didn’t care." Ragnar replied. "Just do it."

The mage picked up a small ritual knife and made a shallow cut across Ragnar’s forearm, then another across his own palm. Dark blood welled up. Vesper used it to trace precise symbols along Ragnar’s skin, mixing their blood in deliberate strokes as he carved out runes that glowed a deep red. Each line burned like acid.

Vesper muttered incantations under his breath, the words barely audible.

"Hold steady," he muttered as Ragnar gritted his teeth through the pain. "I can feel it now. It’s quite strong. Whoever placed this wanted it to last."

Ragnar clenched his jaw as pain lanced through his entire body. "How long will it take to get rid of?"

"Hopefully not too long," Vesper said, still muttering. "I just need you to hold still."

Ragnar did as told but a minute later, pain worse than the other ones he experienced since coming here, lanced through him. The feeling was akin to a hot fire poker piercing straight through his heart.

Then the last barrier of the dark magic shattered.

Shadows erupted from Ragnar in a violent surge. They poured out of his skin, his mouth, his eyes, filling the very air around him, flooding the room in thick, inky darkness. For several heartbeats the entire space became a void, alive and swirling.

"Control them," Vesper warned sharply. "Or they’ll tear the place apart."

Ragnar drew a slow breath. He willed the shadows back and they responded instantly, retreating into him like water sinking into dry earth until the room returned to its dim, ordinary state.

Relief crashed over him. He was happy, but the happiness was secondary to the deep feeling of being whole again.

Vesper sat back, and pressed a cloth to his bleeding palm as he stared at him expectantly.

Ragnar understood that look well. He stood and reached into his coat. He pulled out a coin pouch and handed it over. It was double what they had agreed upon.

Vesper opened it, poured a few coins into his palm, and for the first time since Ragnar had stepped inside, the corner of the mage’s mouth lifted in a faint smile. "You are more than generous, your highness."

"You did well," Ragnar said. "If I need you again, I’ll send word." freewēbnoveℓ.com

"I’ll be here."

Ragnar stepped out into the pale afternoon light. Casilo was waiting exactly where he had left him.

"Is it done?" Casilo asked, eyeing him closely.

"It is," Ragnar answered as he mounted his horse. "Feels like I can breathe properly for the first time since I returned from the hunt."

Casilo swung into his own saddle. "Good. I am glad it has been resolved"

"So am I." Ragnar nudged his horse forward.

The journey back to the estate passed in relative quiet.

They dismounted in front of the main steps and Ragnar strode into the manor, intending to find Circe first and tell her the good news.

He had barely crossed the grand foyer when a guard stepped forward, bowing low.

"Your highness." The man held out a sealed letter. "This arrived from the capital an hour ago. It bears Prince Jayran’s personal seal."

Ragnar took it. "Did the messenger say anything else?"

"Only that it was urgent, your highness."

Ragnar broke the seal and unfolded the parchment, scanning the first lines. His brows furrowed in confusion.

He read it again, more carefully this time yet the words did not change.

"Bad news, your highness?" the guard asked carefully, concern flickering across his face.

Ragnar looked up from the letter. "My brother Azul is dead."

The guard bowed his head low. "My deepest condolences, your highness."

***

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