Chapter 10 The Sorcerers Verdict
Brea POV
I woke up knowing something was wrong. My chest rose and fell slower than it should, like the air itself had weight. When I tried to shift, the movement was too strong, too precise, like I was wearing someone else’s muscles.
My heart started racing, I lifted my hand. "No. No, no, no....Not again"
My body lay tangled in the sheets, pale hair spread across the pillow. My real face was sleeping by my corner. And inside it, breathing through my lungs, was Rayne.
The world tilted. “It happened again,” I whispered, my voice deeper than it should have been. His voice.
Rayne’s eyes opened instantly in my body instantly. He pushed himself upright, scanning the room with sharp awareness before his gaze locked onto me.
“Brea,” he said in my voice. “Don’t panic.”
That almost made it worse. I slid off the bed, my movements stiff as I adjusted to the unfamiliar weight and balance.
“What do you mean don’t panic?” I demanded. “I’m not in my body. Again. Why is this happening?”
“I don’t know,” he said as I froze. Rayne didn’t say things like that.
“You don’t know?” I repeated.
His jaw tightened. “Not this time.” That answer scared me more than the body swap itself.
I forced myself to breathe and think past the panic clawing at my chest. “There’s one obvious explanation,” I said, my voice tight.
“We slept together last night. If this body swap is because of sex, then just say it.”
Rayne went still. “No,” he said immediately. “That alone would not cause this.”
I turned sharply. “Then explain it to me.” He hesitated, then spoke carefully, like every word mattered.
“Vampires can become intoxicated. Not just by blood. By danger. By desire. When that happens, instinct overrides judgment. Obsession can feel like devotion. Want can feel like love.” The words hit harder than I expected.
“This has happened before,” he continued. “Throughout history. Vampires have mistaken intensity for meaning. It has destroyed alliances and started wars. Ruined lives.”
Something cold settled in my stomach. “So you’re saying,” I said slowly, “that whatever happened between us might not have been real. Just instinct.”
“I’m saying it’s possible,” he replied. “And I refuse to lie to you about that.”
“So you used me,” I snapped,it was shameful, ugly and humiliating. “You let me believe it meant something when it might have been nothing more than vampire impulse.”
“That is not—” I turned away before he could finish. My hands were shaking. I hated that they weren’t mine. I hated that my face wasn’t mine.
I hated that I even had to think about this at all.
But beneath the anger, beneath the shame, something else pressed louder.
This isn’t the worst part, I realized. The body swap. The loss of control. Rayne did not know why it happened. That terrified me far more than the thought of being used.
My pride could recover, but my body and my soul—might not. I swallowed hard and forced myself to focus.
“Whatever last night meant,” I said quietly, “we can deal with that later. Right now, we need answers.”
Rayne studied me in silence for a long moment. His expression wasn’t cold, but it was guarded, like he was already calculating the consequences.
“There may be a way,” he said at last. I folded my arms. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m not,” he admitted. “And that’s why we can’t ignore it.”
He turned away and began pacing with a restless movement.
Watching him move so confidently in my body made my skin crawl. “There is someone who might be able to explain what’s happening to us,” he continued.
“Not fix it. Explain it.”
“Someone from the palace?” I asked.
“No.” His jaw tightened. “He doesn’t answer to the royal court.”
That made my stomach sink. “Where does he live?”
“In Ardent City.” The name meant nothing to me at first. Then understanding crept in.
“That’s…” I hesitated. “That’s not one of yours.”
“No,” Rayne said quietly. “It was built by humans. Long before the treaty. Vampires were never meant to live there.”
He didn’t say why, but I felt it anyway. We didn’t leave immediately. Rayne made arrangements first with short orders, careful decisions.
Everything was done efficiently, without ceremony. By the time we were ready, my earlier anger had dulled a bit.
A few hours later, we stood in front of a tall building with a massive digital screen wrapped around its lower floors.
The image showed a man in a dark suit, one hand raised as if he were casually playing with magic. Light curled around his fingers, controlled and deliberate, not flashy.
Beneath the image was a single title in bold lettering: ELIAS VORN, Consultant. Occult Specialist.
“This is him?” I asked. Rayne nodded. “Yes.” The building itself didn’t try to impress. It didn’t need to.
It was taller than everything around it, clean glass and straight lines, like it had been placed there to dominate the skyline. There were no guards outside. Nothing that suggested danger.
We walked in and the lobby was large and quiet. Polished floors. A long reception desk. People in tailored suits moved speaking softly into devices or tapping on tablets.
No one looked around. No one stared. Everyone knew exactly where they were supposed to be.
Before we reached the elevators, two men stepped into our path. They wore dark suits and earpieces, their expressions calm and unreadable.
Rayne and I both had black face masks covering our noses and mouths, pulled high enough to hide most of our faces.
“Identification,” one of the men said.
Rayne spoke first, his voice steady and low. He didn’t use his real name—just an alias he had prepared.
The man listened without reacting and entered the name into the device in his hand. Then he looked at me.
I gave it a different name. Not mine, there was a pause while he checked it, followed by a short nod.
“This way.” We were guided past the elevators into a private corridor.
The doors slid shut behind us. The hallway was long and narrow, lined with clean walls and bright overhead lights. Cameras followed our movement as we walked.
People passed us without slowing down assistants, security, and staff. All of them focused, as they were all silent.
At the end of the corridor, two tall doors stood closed.
They opened before we reached them.
Inside, the sorcerer was already seated. He didn’t look like what I expected.
He didn’t wear robes, rather he wore an expensive suit and sat behind a large desk, calm and unhurried.
Two men stood behind him, silent, watching us closely. Another person placed a tablet in front of him and stepped away.
He did not stand and did not greet us. He simply looked up.
Then he smiled.“Oh,” he said.
“That’s unfortunate.”
I stopped. “We haven’t said anything.”
“You don’t need to,” he replied. “Your eyes are wrong.”
Rayne moved forward. “Explain.” The sorcerer leaned back in his chair. “Your souls are misaligned.”
I felt my stomach tighten. “Can you fix it,” Rayne said.
The man folded his hands. “After payment.”
“How much?” I asked.
“One million dollars.” I stared at him. “For you to fix it?”
“For the truth,” he corrected. “Those are different things.”
Rayne’s jaw tightened. He argued briefly as the sorcerer didn’t interrupt. He didn’t react at all.
When Rayne finished, the man simply shook his head.
“I don’t work for the palace,” he said. “I don’t negotiate.”
Rayne reached into his jacket, pulled out a black card, and placed it on the desk.
“Proceed.” The sorcerer glanced at the card. An assistant immediately stepped forward, took it, and left the room.
Only then did the sorcerer lean in.
The sorcerer’s smile widened. “This was not caused by vampire intoxication,” he said immediately.
“That’s a separate problem. This”, he gestured at us “happened because you slept together while emotionally unstable and incomplete.”
My stomach dropped. “There was no ritual. No spell,” he continued. “Something powerful passed between you, but it lacked balance. Your souls rejected the connection.”
“And the cure?” I asked, afraid to hear it. He looked at me almost kindly.
“True love.”