Chapter 142: Dragon’s Blood

ALLISON.

‘Why don’t you go off and fuck yourself?’ was what I wanted to say to her. I didn’t even want to talk to her because every time she would open her mouth, all she did was to insult me and my brother or screw my mind with things I have never heard before.

And yet I still found myself growing even more curious of what he had to say this time. So, instead of biting my tongue and ignoring her, I ended up falling exactly to where she was baiting me.

I gritted my teeth. "Is there another reason besides the fact that you’re a bunch of power-hungry assholes?"

I yanked against the silver chains around my wrists. I hissed as the sharp, searing pain shot up my arms. Silver really suck. The metal burned into my skin with each futile struggle, but I didn’t care. Every fiber of my being yelled at me to move, to fight, to do something, anything, but my body was bound, and my strength was useless against the restraints. Ah, damn it. I was getting fed up of being useless around here.

Celestine ignored my scowl, though. The smile on her lips remained as if she was about to say something fun.

“You have always been difficult. But that was to be expected. You were never meant to awaken so soon. I had to wait all these years just to get my hands on you and your precious powers,” she said, her voice laced with amusement.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I narrowed my eyes.

Celestine merely sighed, shaking her head as if I were some clueless child.

“You don’t even realize the significance of your existence, do you?” She tilted her head, watching me closely, like she was savoring my ignorance. “We’ve allowed you to roam free all this time because you weren’t ready. Because your power, true power, had not yet awakened.”

A cold chill slithered down my spine.

“What?!” I hissed.

Celestine’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.

“Dragonbloods are born with their abilities locked away, lying dormant until the time is right. For firstborns, that time comes early, sometimes as young as twelve. As for Sullivan, he didn’t realize the extent of his power right away because your mom had hidden your lineage from you. But when we were able to awaken his powers easily when we first brought him. Unfortunately, for those born second… well, the awakening is much later. Twenty-five years old, to be exact,” she explained.

My stomach twisted. I looked at up at the sky and realized why today felt a bit strange to me. It was my birthday. I’m twenty-five years old now.

“That’s… that’s absurd,” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, my voice hoarse.

Celestine’s smile didn’t falter.

“Oh, I know that you’re starting to realize things now.” She took another step toward me, lowering her voice like she was telling me a sacred secret. “It happened with your mother, you know. Sashna was a second-born, just like you,” she whispered.

“Oh, Sashna, that woman. She was quite a looker just like you. Too bad we have to carve her heart out too,” the man with silver mask stated.

“Just like you, her power didn’t awaken until she turned twenty-five,” the man with golden mask spoke this time. “By then, we had already taken her older brother, Ambrose Drignis. Sashna tried to hide after that, blending in with the rogues and hiding her scent. She was great at hiding, we’ll give her that. But no one really escapes from us. We were able to track her down eventually. She was past twenty-five when we got her, so she had already awakened her powers. We didn’t have to do a silly ritual just like this. She was perfect for the harvest. Oh, her heart was delightful. And I’m sure your heart will be too. I can’t wait to get my hands on another dragon’s heart.”

My blood ran cold.

Sullivan. They had taken him because he was firstborn, because his power would have awakened earlier than mine. Which meant that my poor brother had to suffer longer because of the misfortune of being born first. I glanced at my brother who has a tortured expression. He looked pained, frustrated… exhausted.

Celestine smiled at my silence. “Ah, I see the pieces falling into place in that clever little head of yours.”

My hands curled into fists, the silver singeing my skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the rage bubbling inside me. This was their plan all along. Everything. And I hated that I fell exactly where they wanted me to be.

Above us, the night sky shifted.

The eclipse.

A shiver crawled down my spine as the realization hit me like a slap to the face.

It’s happening now.

Celestine clapped her hands once, the sound sharp and final. “Perfect timing,” she murmured. “Let’s begin.”

A deep, rhythmic pounding filled the air as the masked men stationed around the circular platform began to beat their drums. The vibration traveled through the stone beneath me, deep and primal, like the heartbeat of something ancient waking from slumber.

Flames flickered to life as ten masked figures stepped forward, each holding a candle. They placed them carefully around the platform, the flickering light illuminating the strange symbols etched into the stone beneath me.

Another masked figure approached, carrying a silver tray. Resting upon it was a dagger—one gleaming with a blade of silver, the other of gold.

I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to let the fear creeping into my bones show on my face. I would not give them the satisfaction.

Still, I caught movement from the corner of my eye.

Sullivan.

He stood stiffly near the edge of the platform, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. His lips pressed together like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

His eyes, however, said everything.

He didn’t want this to happen.

Neither did I.

But Celestine was already moving.

She plucked the silver dagger from the tray, the blade glinting under the flickering candlelight, and reached for my hands.

I jerked back on instinct, but the chains held me still.

I gritted my teeth as the sharp edge pressed into my palm. A searing pain followed, hot and slicing, as she carved something into my skin. I sucked in a sharp breath, hissing as the burning sensation spread through my palm like fire licking at dry wood.

Blood dripped onto the stone below, dark and glistening.

The pain was sharp and unforgiving, but something else made my breath hitch.

The wound—it was glowing.

A faint golden light slithered along the carved lines, curling and twisting like a living thing beneath my skin.

Celestine tilted her head. “Beautiful,” she mused.