All Chapters of The Blood Bound Legacy: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Jameson’s words hung in a lead ball in my gut."They disappeared."I let my breath out and concentrated on holding my hands still. “So you mean to tell me the only person who ever tried to take down the Council is dead?”Jameson nodded. “Vanished without a trace.”I shook my head, the frustration simmering under my skin. “Then how do you know they existed at all?”Jameson leaned against the crates, arms crossed. “Because I knew them. And because they left behind something the Council couldn’t quite erase.”Maxwell, who had remained silent until this point, now broke her silence. “Which is?”Jameson shot a glance at him and then at me. “A journal. Notes. Plans. Everything they learned about the Council’s secrets before they vanished.”Inside me, hope flickered, momentary and brittle. “And you have it?”Jameson’s mouth shifted to a not quite smile. “Not exactly.”I narrowed my eyes. “Then where is it?”Jameson sighed. “That’s the problem. They hid it somewhere safe from the Council befo

With each footfall, the burdens of Black Hollow weighed heavy on me.We walked back to the car without talking, all of us contemplating whatever went through our minds. The napkin Marion had handed me was weighed down with more than its size, holding an address that was a warning as much as a destination.I glanced at Maxwell. His shoulders were tight; his jaw was clenched. He had fought against coming here from the start, but now that we were in Black Hollow’s grip, I could see he was on edge in a way I’d never known before.Jameson walked a step behind, but his calm demeanor held deeper waters. He knew more than he had spoken. I could feel it.“We have to be careful,” Jameson finally said, his voice low. “The thing here… things don’t work as they should.”Maxwell scoffed. “Yeah, no kidding. The road moved to let us in.”Jameson nodded. “That was the easy part.”I paused in my steps and turned to him. “What aren’t you telling us?”Jameson paused and then released a sigh. “This town…

The journal lay between us on the table. It was like the very weight of truth that it carried had kept pushing down on our chests, cornering us to a reality that we were not prepared for. The stakes had changed — this was no longer about battling for control. It was about survival. And we weren’t just battling the Council.Something much older, far darker, lay behind their power. Something that could rip the world apart if it ever escaped.The journal grew heavier in my instinctive grip, and it seemed as if the pages were whispering secrets to my soul. Secrets I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But I couldn’t walk away now. Not after what we’d learned.Maxwell faced me, jaw set, hands on the lip of the table. His eyes were dark and intense. I saw the conflict swirling in them, the anger, the fear, the frustration. We were both hovering over something. And I didn’t know if either of us was ready to take that last step.“You’re sure about this?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost a whisper.

The morning came too quickly.I hadn’t slept much — none of us had. We could not bring ourselves to rest under the weight of what we were about to do. Shadow’s End. A place that — as Jameson came to write — was not merely dangerous but wrong.And yet that’s where we needed to go.Maxwell spoke first as we gathered in the kitchen of Jameson’s safehouse. “I hate this plan.”Jameson took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “You hate all our plans.”Maxwell shot him a look. “Yeah, but this one? This one is particularly bad.”I sighed, rubbing my temples. “We don’t have a choice. Soraya is the only one who might have answers. If she is alive, she is in Shadow’s End. And if she isn’t…” I trailed off. “Then at least we’ll know what became of her.”Maxwell stopped and exhaled sharply, walking the length of the small room. “That is assuming that we return.”I looked at him and kept my voice even. “We will.”He halted his pacing, fixing me with an intent stare. “And what if we don’t?”There was a c

The blast, a cacophony of light and noise.One minute we were in that dimly lit room, and Soraya’s warning loomed like gravity. The next, the bulbs shattered overhead, blotting us out in darkness. The impact sent shards of glass cascading, the walls rattling as though the house itself, were alive, responding to the presence outside.Then—silence.Thick, suffocating silence.Maxwell’s fingers closed more tightly around my wrist. He was breathing evenly, but I could sense the tension in his stance. Jameson still had a death grip on the journal, his knuckles white. Soraya didn’t move.And then, the voice returned.“You can’t hide from me, Lena Weber.”The way it said my name gave me a sick sort of chill in my spine. It wasn’t merely sound — it was a presence, something immense and primal wrapping around the syllables, like it was tasting them.Jameson said under his breath. “This is bad. This is really bad.”Soraya’s voice was hardly above a whisper. “It knows you now.”I swallowed hard.