Chapter 169 The Blood Pact

Chapter 169 The Blood Pact

The ruined chapel sat in the forgotten quarter of Old section of Tenebrous, hidden in plain sight among the abandoned train yards and half-collapsed brick factories. Most of the city had forgotten it even existed, a forgotten relic from another time, lost behind rusted fences and overgrown weeds. But tonight, the earth around it was stirring with old magic.
Maverick stood alone before the chapel's old double doors, with the wind pulling at his long cloak, and his eyes burning with his dark purpose. The moon above was full, and covered by a faint veil of clouds that looked like breath over glass. He inhaled deeply, savoring the stillness before the storm.
“Open,” he commanded the doors.
The doors groaned and creaked, but they obeyed, swinging wide with an unnatural reverence.
Inside, the ruined chapel's interior was completely different from its external appearance. It had been cleared and reinforced, and what once housed rows of pews and soft hymns was now covered with enchanted runes carved deep into the stone. Candles floated in the air, burning with greenish flame, and their wax pooling in midair while dripping upward. The scent of ash and blood filled the atmosphere, brimming with ancient and raw energy.
At the far end of the chamber, a circular altar rose from the floor–smooth stone marked with the symbols of binding, betrayal, and power. In its center floated the Bloodstone Chalice, a cursed relic of a forgotten war. It was glowing with a sickly red light, like the beat of a buried heart.
Maverick stepped onto the altar, and one by one, his guests began to arrive.
First came Lysandra, the Banshee Queen, with her silver hair flowing like a waterfall in the dim light. Her dress was black and tattered, and her skin deathly pale while her dangerous voice could strip the soul from a body. Her eyes glowed with a dark and dangerous glow as she took in the chalice.
“You have done your homework, Maverick,” she purred sweetly “I have not seen a Bloodstone this potent in centuries.”
“Good,” Maverick replied. “Then you understand the stakes involved.”
Next came Vargas, leader of the Bloodfang rogue werewolves. His huge and terrifying frame barely fit through the chapel's entrance, and his presence made the room even colder and hungrier. His yellow and wolf-bright eyes looked around suspiciously for threats.
“This better be worth my time,” he snarled. “I don't give my time and strength to just anyone.”
“I promise, this will certainly be worth your while.” Maverick assured him.
Then came Silas, the exiled warlock, with his robes tattered but his aura surging with unspent power. His right arm had been replaced with a construct of living metal, with dark magic runes running across its surface like restless insects.
“You said there would be power in this alliance,” Silas murmured, looking around at the other two. “You did not say it would taste so–delicious.”
The demon-blooded crime lord Niko arrived next, his skin tinted with a faint red hue, eyes sharp with perpetual calculation. He carried no weapons, only that evil grin of his that was rumored to kill his opponents before he even struck.
“I like a good gamble,” he said, slipping between Vargas and Silas. “Especially when the pot is a city.”
Last came Dumas, the pale vampire prince of the Lower Wards. Regal, refined, and radiating old money. He said nothing as he entered, but offered Maverick a small, and almost bored nod.
They gathered in a circle around the altar, facing one another with centuries of mistrust between them. Enemies. Rivals. Predators.
“Let’s not pretend we trust one another,” Maverick began, with his voice echoing with some faint hint of enchantment. “But I am very sure we all want the same thing–freedom, power, and a place in the light.”
Lysandra raised a brow. “Are you thinking a pact will undo centuries of blood and betrayal?”
“Not undo,” Maverick said persuasively, drawing a curved dagger from his belt. The blade shone brightly with an oily sheen. “I want us to redefine things. We don't have to love one another, we only have to agree on a common enemy.”
He dragged the blade across his palm in one clean swipe, and blood spilled freely from the deep cut, glowing as it touched the chalice.
“Alex Ravenswood has ruled and hidden our people for too long. He represents the old generation of supernaturals–secrecy, hierarchy, and silence. I am offering you all something else entirely. Public control, political dominance, power in even the police force, and even a place in the new supernatural High council I envision–A place in the daylight.”
Each leader stepped forward in turn, offering their own blood to the chalice. Lysandra's blood was black and thick, hissing as it mixed. Vargas growled low as he pressed his claws to his palm. Silas whispered an incantation as a line of molten silver dripped from his finger. Niko pricked his tongue and smiled as his offering disappeared in smoke. Dumas, of course, used a silver dagger and handed it to Maverick afterward like a gentleman.
The chalice vibrated violently, with red lightning emanating from it, and striking the symbols in the stone of the altar. The entire chamber trembled.
Maverick raised his hands dramatically.
“By blood and bond, by oath and magic, let this alliance be forged in fire. Let no betrayal go unpunished, and let our pact be sealed.”
An eerie glow slowly enveloped the chamber, and for a moment, it seemed that even the air itself held its breath. Then a sudden wave of magic slammed outward, a concussive force that knocked over several of the enchanted candles. Every leader staggered.
And then there was complete stillness.
The pact had been sealed.
“Well. That was dramatic.” Dumas said, brushing off dust from his robe.
“And necessary,” Maverick replied in a sharp voice. “We have no time to waste. My associate has already begun the revolution, and the human infrastructures are already feeling the heat of our initial attacks.”
“What about Ravenswood and the High council?” Vargas asked. “Do you really think they will just roll over and let us take the city?”
Maverick smiled coldly. “I gave the council a choice to join my cause, but they turned it down. They will all burn along with Ravenswood.”

On the other side of the city, Rufus was yelling as he dodged yet another bolt of magic with a supernatural blade Alex had gifted him.
“You told me this was only a recon mission!” he snapped at Simon, who was crouched beside him, panting and bleeding from his left arm.
“It was a recon mission! Until someone dropped a bomb on our escape route!”
They had stumbled into something far more organized than anyone had ever expected. The compound they had been surveying was crawling with mercenary witches, rogue vampires, and werewolves from Maverick's pack.
Rufus dived behind a dumpster as a fireball exploded nearby.
“This was a trap. They knew we were coming.”
Simon did not respond. He was busy drawing a complex pattern into the ground with a strange ash he was pouring from a small bag.
“What in the name of the gods are you doing?” Rufus called from his hiding place.
“Opening a portal to get us home. Melora gave me a spell for it, so just try to keep them off me for twenty more seconds.”
“Do I look like I brought a battalion with me?!” He yelled again.
“Well, you look like a butler with a magical sword. Do your job.”
Rufus grumbled something about 'ungrateful werewolves’ and launched himself toward the attackers, shooting rapidly and countering attacks with his blade. He knew he did not need to win, all he simply had to do was buy Simon time to get them home.
The portal burst open moments later behind Simon in a brilliant flash of cold blue light, and he screamed Rufus's name.
“Rufus! Now!”
Rufus did not need to be told twice, diving in just as the portal closed behind them.
They reappeared in the courtyard of Ravenswood estate, skidding across the hard ground as startled guards rushed to assist them.
Alex and the others were already waiting, and his face changed the moment he set his eyes on their pitiable state.
“What happened?”
Simon threw a bloodstained cloth onto the ground. “We stumbled into an ambush. It seems the enemy alliance is stronger than we anticipated, they are getting more creative.”
Rufus nodded solemnly. “We saw vampires, werewolves, witches, and some other weird combinations in that place. This is all really getting out of hand very quickly.”
“So it begins,” Alex murmured.
Melora arrived a moment later, breathless from running down the hall. Her eyes widened at the sight of Simon's bleeding arm.
“You are hurt- ,”
“It is fine,” Simon said quickly. “It is just a minor graze. We need to start preparing immediately, the attacks are not going to stop coming–this is officially a full blown war.”
Alex turned and began walking into the house. Avery who had been silent the whole time patted Rufus and Simon affectionately and went after him.
She knew Melora and Jessica would tend to Simon and Rufus. But Alex had a lot on his plate at the moment–he needed her more than ever now.
The war was not coming.
It was already here.