We burst through the heavy wooden door at the top of the tower, weapons drawn. The scene before us was nothing like the museum exhibition I'd expected. Despite the collapse of Cain's domain, this chamber remained changed—a ritual space of terrible purpose.

  Black candles burned with unnatural flames around a central altar fashioned from what looked like human bones. Ancient symbols were carved into the stone floor, their lines filled with something dark and glistening that I suspected was blood. The Crown Jewels had been arranged in a specific pattern atop the altar, glittering with malevolent purpose.

  And there stood Cain, his hand resting on Faith's shoulder. My old body, Liam's body, occupied by this monster.

  "Well, well," Cain said, "I didn't expect to see you three again so soon."

  His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the room, taking in our battle-ready stances.

  "Was it you who broke my domain spell?" he asked, his tone conversational despite the obvious tension.

  I shook my head. "It wasn't us."

  "Then why are you here?" He gestured to the ritual preparations. "As you can see, I'm rather busy at the moment."

  A cold smile spread across my face. I met his gaze directly, letting my glamour drop to reveal my true demonic form. "I've come for Faith."

  Cain's eyebrows rose slightly, and then he laughed—a sound that sent chills down my spine because it used Liam's laugh but twisted it into something cruel.

  "Ah yes, I remember now. You worked together before." He turned to Faith, who stood unnaturally still beside him. "Unfortunately, she belongs to me now."

  He pulled Faith closer, his arm sliding around her waist possessively. Faith leaned into his embrace, her eyes—now tinged with that unnatural vampiric red—looking up at him with adoration. Her lips parted slightly, and she pressed herself against him with obvious desire.

  "See?" Cain said, running his fingers through Faith's hair. "She's quite happy with her new arrangement."

  Something snapped inside me. The sight of Faith—strong, independent Faith—reduced to this fawning puppet ignited a rage I hadn't known I was capable of feeling. My hands clenched into fists, and I felt my demonic claws extend involuntarily, drawing blood from my own palms.

  "You bastard," I snarled, taking a step forward. "What you've done to her—"

  "Is entirely within vampire tradition," Cain finished smoothly. "Sire and progeny. It's been our way since the beginning."

  Isabella placed a restraining hand on my arm. "Careful," she whispered. "He's baiting you."

  I knew she was right, but the fury coursing through me was hard to contain. I could feel my wings straining to manifest, my tail lashing behind me.

  Before I could respond, the air in the chamber suddenly thickened. A cold wind swept through the room, extinguishing several of the black candles. The temperature plummeted, and frost began forming on the stone walls.

  A swirling vortex of blue-white energy materialized near the altar. From within it stepped a figure—no longer the human disguise he'd worn earlier, but the full skeletal form of Kyriakos, his eye sockets blazing with ethereal fire.

  "CAIN!" The name thundered from the Lich's fleshless mouth, reverberating with centuries of hatred.

  Cain's expression shifted from smug confidence to genuine surprise. For the first time since I'd encountered him, he looked truly taken aback.

  "You," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

  Kyriakos raised his skeletal hand, pointing one bony finger directly at Cain's heart. "I have returned to collect an old debt."

  I watched as Cain's face transformed from shock to calculation. The familiar features of my old body—Liam's face—rearranged themselves into a cold mask.

  "Kyriakos," Cain said, his voice deceptively calm. "The King of the Dead himself. I thought you'd perished with Atlantis."

  Kyriakos's skeletal form seemed to grow larger, his ethereal flames burning brighter. "I ensured Atlantis perished because of you, Cain. Or should I call you by your title? The Butcher King?"

  Cain's laugh was hollow. "Such dramatics. I was merely a ruler doing what was necessary."

  "Necessary?" Kyriakos's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "You sacrificed entire villages—my village—for your ritual."

  "A small price for what I've gained," Cain replied with a dismissive wave. "And clearly, you followed a similar path." He gestured at Kyriakos's undead form. "We're not so different, you and I."

  The temperature in the room plummeted further. Ice crystals formed in the air around Kyriakos.

  "We are nothing alike," the Lich hissed. "I became this to avenge what you destroyed. You became a monster out of fear—fear of facing what you'd done to your brother."

  Cain's expression hardened. "You know nothing of my reasons."

  "I know enough," Kyriakos countered. "I've spent centuries tracking your movements through history. Always hiding, always running from your past."

  Faith shifted uncomfortably beside Cain, her vampiric eyes darting between the two ancient beings. I kept my focus on her, looking for any opportunity to reach her.

  "And yet here I stand," Cain said, spreading his arms. "About to complete what I began in Atlantis. The ritual that will finally free me."

  Kyriakos's laughter was like bones rattling in a tomb. "Your ritual failed, Cain. It didn't grant you the freedom you sought—it merely transformed you. A vampire with no escape from eternity."

  Something flickered across Cain's face—confusion, perhaps even doubt. But it vanished quickly.

  "You're wrong," he said firmly. "This time I have what I need. The convergence is perfect. London will serve as the sacrifice Atlantis could not."

  "You're still running," Kyriakos said softly. "Still seeking an escape that doesn't exist."

  Cain's patience seemed to snap. He turned to us, his red eyes burning with barely contained rage.

  "And what about your new friends?" he asked Kyriakos. "These demons you've allied yourself with? What do they seek in this confrontation?"

  Kyriakos remained silent, and Cain's gaze shifted to me.

  "Well?" he demanded. "What is it you three hope to accomplish here? Surely not to save these mortals? Demons aren't known for their altruism."

  I stepped forward, my claws fully extended now. I could feel Isabella and Aria flanking me, their own demonic auras flaring in response to the tension.

  "We're here for Faith," I said firmly. "That hasn't changed. And if we kill you in the process, that's a nice bonus."

  "Such confidence," Cain said with a smirk. "Very well then." He released Faith and stepped forward, shadows gathering around his hands. "If that's how you want this to end, then you will all die here tonight."

  The ritual items on the altar began to vibrate, and the air crackled with building power. Faith took a defensive stance beside Cain, her face transforming into something feral and hungry.

  Cain's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Shall we begin?"

  I lunged forward, my body moving with supernatural speed as I charged toward Faith. The cold fury in her eyes—once warm and thoughtful—sent a pang through my chest. This wasn't the woman I'd known. This was Cain's puppet, his newest thrall.

  "Faith, please," I called out, dodging her first strike. "This isn't you!"

  She laughed, a hollow sound nothing like her real laugh. "You don't know me at all." Her movements were fluid, precise—the trained combat style I'd glimpsed before, now enhanced with vampiric strength and speed.

  Behind us, chaos erupted. Kyriakos raised his skeletal hands, and the stone floor cracked open. Bony fingers clawed their way up from beneath, followed by skulls and ribcages as dozens of skeletons pulled themselves from the earth.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Deal with the others," Kyriakos commanded, his voice echoing with otherworldly power. "Cain is mine."

  As if on cue, the doors burst open. Vampires poured in—Cain's followers, their eyes wild with bloodlust.

  "Aria, Isabella," I called over my shoulder, ducking under Faith's roundhouse kick. "Help the undead! I'll handle Faith!"

  Isabella nodded, her glamour dropping as she revealed her true form. "Don't get yourself killed again," she called back, silver hair whipping around her face as she turned to face the incoming vampires.

  Aria's eyes gleamed with excitement. "This is going to be fun!" She summoned crackling energy between her fingers, the electricity dancing across her skin.

  Faith used my moment of distraction to land a solid punch to my sternum. I staggered back, surprised by the force behind it.

  "You're holding back," she hissed, circling me like a predator. "That's going to get you killed."

  She was right. I was pulling my punches, unwilling to hurt her. But Faith had no such reservations. She attacked with everything she had, each strike meant to cripple or kill.

  Across the chamber, Kyriakos and Cain faced off in a clash of ancient powers. Cain manipulated shadows, sending them like spears toward the Lich. Kyriakos countered with bursts of sickly green energy that withered everything they touched.

  "You've grown stronger," Cain acknowledged, blood swirling around his hands to form crimson blades. "But not strong enough."

  Kyriakos's laugh was like grinding stones. "I've had centuries to prepare for this moment." He thrust his skeletal hand forward, and a wave of necrotic energy rushed toward Cain.

  Faith launched herself at me again, moving with inhuman grace. I sidestepped, grabbing her wrist and using her momentum to throw her. She twisted in midair, landing on her feet.

  "Faith, listen to me," I pleaded. "Cain is controlling you. This isn't who you are!"

  "My master freed me," she snarled, her fangs fully extended now. "Showed me what I could become. You're just jealous you're not his favourite."

  She struck again, a flurry of blows that I barely managed to block. One caught me across the face, splitting my lip. I tasted my own blood and felt my demonic instincts surge in response.

  Around us, the battle raged. Isabella wielded her sword with deadly precision, decapitating vampires with elegant sweeps. Aria was a whirlwind of chaotic energy, her lightning strikes reducing Cain's followers to ash. Kyriakos's undead army engaged the remaining vampires, bones clattering against flesh in a macabre dance.

  Cain and Kyriakos continued their duel, powers colliding in explosive bursts. Cain summoned a whip of shadows, lashing out at the Lich. Kyriakos caught it with his bare hand, the shadows withering at his touch.

  "You always relied too much on flashy displays," Kyriakos taunted. "Never understanding the true nature of power."

  Cain's response was a barrage of blood spikes that erupted from the floor. Kyriakos dissolved into mist, reforming behind Cain and striking with a hand wreathed in green flames.

  Faith pressed her advantage, driving me back toward the wall. Her fighting style was familiar—I recognized the VCD training—but it was enhanced by her vampiric reflexes, making her movements almost too fast to track.

  "Faith, please," I tried again. "I don't want to hurt you."

  "Then die," she replied coldly, launching a kick at my head.

  I caught her ankle, twisting it to throw her off balance. She used the momentum to flip backward, landing in a crouch.

  "You're good," she admitted, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "But I'm better."

  She drew a silver dagger from her boot—standard VCD issue for vampire hunting. The irony wasn't lost on me.

  Across the room, Aria cried out as a vampire caught her with a lucky strike. Isabella immediately moved to her aid, her blade flashing in the dim light as she separated the vampire's head from its shoulders.

  "Pay attention!" Faith snapped, lunging at me with the dagger.

  I twisted away, the blade slicing through my sleeve and grazing my arm. The silver burned, sending a jolt of pain up to my shoulder.

  "Faith, stop this!" I grabbed her wrist, forcing the dagger away from my throat. "This isn't you! Cain has turned you into something you're not!"

  For just a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes—doubt, perhaps, or recognition. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

  "You know nothing about me," she hissed, breaking my grip and backing away.

  Kyriakos had transformed now, his skeletal form dissolving into a shadowy spectre resembling a grim reaper. A scythe of pure necrotic energy formed in his hands, and he swung it at Cain with terrifying speed.

  Cain barely managed to dodge, the scythe cutting through his shoulder. He snarled in pain, blood spraying from the wound. But instead of falling, the blood formed into crimson spikes that shot toward Kyriakos.

  "You've always been predictable," Cain taunted, his wound already healing. "Still using the same tricks after all these centuries."

  Kyriakos's response was to slam his scythe into the ground. Cracks spread across the floor, glowing with the same sickly green energy. Wherever the cracks touched, the stone withered and crumbled.

  "And you've always been arrogant," Kyriakos replied, his voice echoing from everywhere at once.

  Faith attacked again, her movements becoming more frenzied. I could see frustration building in her eyes—she hadn't expected me to last this long.

  "Why won't you just die?" she demanded, slashing at me with the dagger.

  I caught her arm, twisting it behind her back and pulling her against me. "Because I care about you, Faith," I whispered in her ear. "More than you know."

  She struggled against my hold. "Liar! You're just trying to take me away from him!"

  "From Cain? He's using you, Faith. He doesn't care about you."

  "He loves me!" she insisted, her voice cracking slightly. "He chose me!"

  "He turned you into a slave," I countered, maintaining my grip despite her struggles. "That's not love."

  She threw her head back, catching me in the face. I released her, stumbling backward as stars exploded across my vision.

  The battle around us was reaching a crescendo. Isabella and Aria had cleared most of the vampires, working in perfect tandem with Kyriakos's undead forces. Kyriakos himself was pressing Cain hard, his scythe a blur of motion as he forced the ancient vampire back toward the altar.

  Faith came at me again, but her movements were less coordinated now, driven more by emotion than technique. I used that to my advantage, redirecting her attacks and keeping her off balance.

  "Faith, listen to me," I said, blocking a wild swing. "I know the real you is still in there somewhere."

  "Shut up!" she screamed, her composure cracking. "You don't know anything about me!"

  "I know everything about you," I insisted, catching her wrist again. "I know you like your coffee with too much sugar. I know you sing in the shower when you think no one's listening. I know you have a scar on your left knee from when you fell off your bike when you were nine."

  Her eyes widened slightly. "How—"

  "Because I'm Liam," I said softly. "It's me, Faith. I'm in a different body, but it's still me."

  For a moment, she froze, confusion washing over her face. "Liam?" she whispered, her voice suddenly uncertain.

  Before I could respond, Cain's maniacal laughter cut through the chaos.

  "Ahahahahahahaha!"

  The word seemed to shake the very foundations of the tower. Everyone—vampires, undead, demons—paused, turning toward the altar where Cain stood, blood dripping from multiple wounds.

  "You're too late," he announced, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. "The ritual has begun."

  He thrust his hands toward the ceiling, and the items on the altar began to glow with an unearthly light. The air hummed with power, making my skin prickle.

  "Faith," I said urgently, reaching for her. "You have to fight his control. Please—"

  "Liam?" she repeated, her expression caught between disbelief and hope.

  A blinding column of pale energy erupted from Cain, shooting upward through the ceiling. The force of it knocked everyone back, sending us flying in different directions.

  I slammed into a wall, the impact driving the breath from my lungs. Through the spots dancing across my vision, I saw Kyriakos struggling to his feet, his skeletal form partially shattered.

  "We have to stop him now!" the Lich shouted over the roar of the energy. "He's going to sacrifice all of London!"

  Isabella and Aria were already moving, charging toward the pillar of light that surrounded Cain. I pushed myself up, searching frantically for Faith.

  "Faith!" I called out, my voice lost in the cacophony of the ritual.

  Then I saw her.

  My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach.

  Faith hung suspended against the wall, impaled through the chest by a broken piece of the altar. Her eyes were wide with shock, blood soaking through her shirt and trickling from the corner of her mouth.

  "No!" I screamed, rushing to her side.

  Faith's broken body shattered something in me. All my lies—that I'd moved on, that we were past—crumbled away. The truth was, I never stopped loving her. I'd buried these feelings under denial, pretending my heart didn't ache whenever I saw her. But facing her loss, I couldn't hide anymore. I loved her. Always had.

  I cradled her head in my hands, my fingers trembling. "Faith, stay with me."

  Her lips moved, forming a single word: "Liam."

  Recognition and sorrow mingled in her eyes. She tried to reach for my face but couldn't find the strength. I caught her hand and pressed it against my cheek.

  "I'm here," I whispered, tears burning my eyes. "I'm right here."

  Blood bubbled between her lips as she tried to speak. Memories crashed through me—Faith laughing in the kitchen as she burned yet another attempt at pancakes, Faith curled against me on cold winter nights, Faith's face lit by morning sunlight as she slept beside me.

  "Don't try to talk," I pleaded, pressing my hand against her wound. Blood seeped between my fingers. "We'll get you help."

  Her eyes held mine, filled with a terrible clarity. "Too late," she managed, each word a struggle.

  "No." I shook my head fiercely. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare leave me."

  A ghost of a smile touched her bloodied lips. "Knew... something about you... felt familiar."

  "I'm sorry," I choked out. "I'm so sorry, I should have told you everything from the beginning."

  Faith's breathing grew more laboured, each rise of her chest weaker than the last. Her fingers twitched against my cheek.

  "Not... your fault," she whispered.

  Around us, the battle raged on. Isabella and Aria were thrown back from the pillar of light. They hit the ground hard, their attempts to breach the energy field proving futile.

  "You were this close," Cain called out, his voice distorted by the power flowing through him. "But now you can only watch my ascension."

  His gaze fell on Faith, and his expression showed a flicker of disappointment. "A pity," he remarked coldly. "She would have made a good consort."

  Faith's eyes flashed with hatred at the sound of his voice. She gripped my hand with sudden strength. "Kill him," she rasped. "Promise me."

  "I promise," I whispered, pressing my forehead against hers. "But you're going to see it happen. You're going to make it through this."

  Her eyelids fluttered. For a terrifying moment, I thought she was gone. Then they opened again, focusing on me with effort.

  "Always... stubborn," she murmured, blood staining her teeth. Her fingers tightened around mine with surprising strength, as if clinging to the last threads of life.

  "Save your strength," I begged, pressing my forehead to hers. Our tears mingled on her cheeks. "Please, Faith. Don't leave me like this."

  Her eyes fluttered, focusing on something beyond my shoulder. "Behind you," she whispered, the words barely audible.

  The air around us crackled with energy. I felt it before I heard it—a disturbance in the atmosphere, like reality itself was being torn apart.

  Before I could respond, the ceiling exploded inward. Chunks of ancient stone and wood rained down, narrowly missing us. I threw myself over Faith's body, shielding her from the debris. Through the shower of rubble descended two figures—a man I recognized as Galahad, his coat billowing around him like wings, and beside him, an ethereally beautiful woman with piercing violet eyes that seemed to glow with inner light.

  The woman's gaze locked with mine, and I felt a jolt of recognition, though I was certain we'd never met before.

  "Morgan," Kyriakos acknowledged, his voice carrying a mix of relief and wariness.

  The woman—Morgan—surveyed the scene with a calculating gaze, her eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.

  "We're too late," Galahad said grimly, taking in the pillar of light and Cain's triumphant stance.

  "No," Morgan replied, her voice carrying an otherworldly quality. "We're right on time."