MATIC


    The blast tore through me, hurling me through the air. Trees blurred into streaks of green and black, and pain erupted as I slammed into the ground. My body skidding like a broken doll and a roar ripped from my throat, foreign even to me.


    Everything burned. Pain, sharp and unrelenting, radiated through my body—every nerve, every muscle, screaming in agony. I gritted my teeth, fighting against the weakness that clung to me like a suffocating fog.


    This shouldn’t be possible. Before I was bound, my power was limitless—I was untouchable. But now, my body ached, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t felt in centuries.


    Every movement felt strained, the surge of power within me faltering, flickering like a flame on the edge of being snuffed out. It wasn’t just the pain from the blast—it went deeper, gnawing at my core.


    And I hated it and it was her fault.


    Katherine. The name was a blade, sharp and jagged, slicing through my thoughts. It ignited a fury that should have been familiar, but beneath it, something softer twisted—something I would not acknowledge, even as it burned.


    She did this—she locked me away. Left me to rot in that hellish prison while the world above moved on. Changed. After everything... after I loved and trusted her.


    Her face blurred before me, fierce and defiant. But no—it was different now. The face I had seen was softer, uncertain. Yet, the taste of her blood and scent said otherwise.


    On a low, rumbling growl, I opened my eyes, pushing past the haze of fury and pain that gripped my body.


    I stood slowly, rolling my neck with deliberate precision, the sharp crack echoed in the heavy air. The tension that coiled in my muscles was intoxicating, a reminder of the power surging beneath my skin. I welcomed it. Fed on it.


    Moving forward, each step was purposeful, as the earth shifted beneath me. The blast had sent me flying, but it was nothing more than a temporary inconvenience. Pain was fleeting. Power, however—mine—was everlasting. And right now, I was hungry for more.


    I had witches to devour.


    My gaze flickered ahead, and there they stood—two witches and a warlock, their eyes narrowed with grim determination. They were trying so hard to look brave, to appear as though they had control of the situation. As though they could stop me.


    Fools.


    I slowed my approach, relishing the way the anticipation stretched between us like a taut string, ready to snap at any moment. They knew what I was capable of; they had to. The moment I was released, they came after me like moths drawn to a flame.


    But the truth was—they had no idea what I could unleash. They were trained, like soldiers for combat and I could see it in their eyes, the thin veil of control slipping away, just as the air around us crackled with the charge of magik.


    “Do you dare defy me?” I called out to the witches, my voice dripping with disdain.


    Angry crimson lightning split the sky above, illuminating the darkened forest with an eerie glow. The wind howled through the trees and I could feel it, the storm brewing within me—my power, that once surged like a wildfire, now flowed through my limbs, spreading and surging up my spine, flooding me with a raw, expanding energy.


    Every flash of lightning sparked a memory—of the strength I once wielded, of the chaotic beauty of the shadows that obeyed my call. And these pathetic witches? They would pay for interrupting my time with her.


    Katherine was mine and mine alone.


    A cruel smile curled at my lips as I raised my hand, the power gathering around me like a living thing. My will alone summoned the shadow demons to do my bidding. They writhed into existence, dark tendrils coiling around my fingers, eager for the taste of fear.


    Let them come.


    Let them devour.


    The demons would tear through the witches and warlock who dared to stand between me and what was mine. With them at my command, as they had been once before, I would teach these fools the true meaning of agony. I would carve a path of blood through their ranks, ruthless and unyielding, until nothing—no spell, no mortal force—stood in my way.


    As I moved closer to the witches, the thunder echoed my thoughts. The forest around us darkened, the shadows thickening like ink spilling over the land. They slithered and twisted, clawing at the two witches and the warlock ahead of me, tendrils of darkness lashing out with a life of their own.


    I watched them struggle, their voices climbing in frantic, breathless Latin as they hurled spells to banish the shadows. But the demons were relentless, insatiable. Each fleeting flicker of light sent them retreating only for an instant before they surged forward again, hungrier, more savage.


    Black, razor-sharp claws ripped into flesh, carving through the witches with merciless precision. Satisfaction coiled in my chest, dark and unbidden, as their cries echoed through the chaos.


    Thunder shattered the air, a sound so violent it felt as if the sky itself might split apart. Lightning cracked down in jagged streaks, slamming into the ground with ferocious intent. The earth quaked beneath each strike, tremors rippling outward, scattering the witches and warlock like leaves in a storm.


    Bolt after bolt rained down, gouging deep scars into the earth—cratered reminders of the ruin waiting to be unleashed. The storm roared with my fury, but something was wrong.


    I could feel it—my power, still present but wavering. The dark clouds and storm began to disappear.


    This shouldn’t be happening.


    I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling up as I battled the unfamiliar sensation of fragility. The tendrils flickered like dying embers, recoiling at my command, slipping through my fingers like smoke.


    A snarl built in my throat—this power had once been my birthright, obedient and eager. Now, it defies me.


    Annoyance flared as I attempted to draw more familiar strength from the shadow realm, but the energy felt... fragmented, like sand slipping through my grasp.


    Fuck. This wasn’t right. Centuries of imprisonment had left my body and abilities needing time to adjust. But time I couldn’t afford.


    My nails dug into my palms and my gaze locked onto the witches, sharp and unyielding, as if I could burn through them with a look alone.


    They shouldn’t have lasted this long, they should have been dragged into the shadow realm. But they were well trained, with high level spells ready to take me on and even now they didn’t stop. With desperate resolve, the witches chanted, hurling massive sharpened spears.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    The stakes hurtled through the air, sharp and gleaming, each one poised to end my life.


    My movements were seamless, each dodge a dance of impossible precision. I moved faster than their eyes could follow, my steps a silent, mocking challenge to their aim.


    Something tugged at me—an emotion not my own. Fear. Not theirs. Hers. It gnawed at me, even as I twisted to evade another stake.


    Katherine. I could feel her worry—faint at first, but growing stronger with each stake that sailed through the air, each near miss that brought me closer to harm. It clung to her like a second skin, an anxiety that cut through the chaos.


    Her dread was inexcusable. Her heart pounding, as if she believed—truly believed—that one of those stakes might strike its mark.


    For a fleeting moment, the sensation irritated me, her worry gnawing at the edges of my mind. She should know better. She should know that nothing could stop me.


    Why was I able to feel her? I could scent fear like blood, taste arousal on the air—but this? This was different. Her dread breathed through me and it was unwelcome and strange.


    A scream cut through the chaos—sharp, shrill. One of the witches, struck by lightning, crumpled to the ground, her lifeless body twitching before going still. I paused, letting the moment stretch, savoring it all.


    And then, in that split second of stillness, I felt it—the stake hit like a thunderbolt, tearing through flesh and muscle, driving deep into my abdomen.


    Pain detonated in my chest, driving me backward into the oak’s unforgiving embrace. A roar tore from my throat, splintering the night, and the storm howled back with a crack of violent lightning and thunder.


    The stake scorched where it pierced me, blood oozing around the jagged wood. Weakness gnawed at the edges of my mind, but I shoved it aside. I had mastered pain long ago—but this felt like a fucking violation.


    My hands trembled as I gripped the stake, fingers slick with blood, and yanked. The wood lodged deep, resisting my pull. A snarl rumbled from my chest, raw and inhuman.


    I would not fall. Their efforts were nothing more than a nuisance, buzzing around me like gnats while the real battle loomed on the horizon.


    Katherine Saldana.


    I don’t know what game she was playing, but she’ll have to face me—to finish what she started five centuries ago. She’d have to trap me again—or better, end me. It was the only outcome that made sense because I would not stop until Katherine lay beneath me, lifeless, or I beneath her, our blood mingling in the dirt like a dark covenant, binding us even in death.


    There was no other way—no other end I could accept.


    My chest burned with fury, not from the stakes that pierced my flesh or the magik that danced around the forest, but from the singular thought of her. The one I loved more than anything. The one I would destroy with my bare hands if I had to.


    No, I would not stop.


    Not until it was over.


    With a snarl, I clamped my hands around the stake, the jagged wood biting into my flesh. Every fiber of my being screamed in protest, the searing agony ripping through me like fire, relentless and consuming.


    My muscles trembled under the strain, the sharp sting of pain radiating through my core, each wave threatening to drown me in its torment.


    Yet, I refused to yield.


    Not to this.


    Not now.


    Gritting my teeth, I pulled harder, the stake resisting with a sickening crunch as it tore free from my flesh. The sensation of wood grinding against bone sent a fresh wave of agony through me, and I flung the stake aside. The effort buckled my knees, and I hit the blood-soaked ground.


    Darkness clawed at the edges of my vision, and each breath scraped like glass in my throat.


    I sank my fingers into the dirt and dragged myself upright, leaning on the last scrap of strength left in me. I rose slowly, every tremor in my limbs stoking the fire inside but I would stand.


    Limping forward, each step a jagged reminder of the pain coursing through my body. The agony clawed at my nerves, sharp and unrelenting, the kind of injury that would have dropped any ordinary Vampyr to their knees, helpless. But I was no ordinary Vampyr. I was something far more dangerous, far less breakable.


    The blood of Asmodeus burned in my veins, and with each step, the wind howled. With each step that ancient, infernal power stirred, pushing back against the damage. My breaths were shallow, rasping through gritted teeth, but I kept moving. Stopping wasn’t an option.


    The torn flesh slowly stitched itself together, muscle fibers weaving back into place, tendons reattaching with a precision that bordered on grotesque. I could feel the fiery pulse of my healing surging with each beat of my heart, hot and unrelenting.


    The gaping hole in my side, which had nearly crippled me moments ago, was sealing itself shut, the sharp agony receding into a dull, throbbing ache.


    I surged forward, my voice a razor-sharp howl slicing through the winds. “You can''t keep me from her!”


    The storm answered my rage. Thunder cracked above, and I watched them—those cowardly witches and the warlock—glance nervously at each other and toward the sky, their eyes wide with dread as the storm returned.


    In the distance there was a shrieking cry as Katherine and the witch beside her were blasted backward by a lightning strike that hit close to them.


    As she hit the earth, phantom pains bloomed across my body - aches and stings that weren''t mine. It was her agony, faint but unmistakable, echoed through me.


    The sight of her sprawled and vulnerable stirred conflicting urges - savage satisfaction warred with an unwelcome instinct to protect.


    My jaw clenched, muscles rippling beneath my skin. The phantom pain echoed through my bones from her fall - this inexplicable link between us - threatened to distract me from the battle raging around us. I couldn''t afford complications, not with witches hurling death at my feet.


    Forcing every ounce of strength into my battered body, Latin spilled from my tongue. Thick and ancient, twisting through the wind like a curse.


    “Tenebrae, obedite mihi... Veni ad me, filii umbrarum.”


    Nothing happened at first, and I continued. The warlock and witch stood defiant, challenging me with their chants clashing with mine, hurling raw energy into the storm. Uprooting trees, and stretching branches across the land to bind my ankles and wrist.


    Little did they know how much of the darkness which was mine to command.


    Darkness, obey me... Come to me, sons of shadows.


    “Tenebrae, obedite mihi... Veni ad me, filii umbrarum,”


    They didn’t come for the second try but I kept repeating and repeating until, shadows answered my call.


    Writhing at my feet, slithering from the earth like serpents stirring from slumber. I whispered their names—dark, ancient things—and they came, eager and ravenous, feeding off the darkness in me that could not be denied.


    The tendrils curled tighter around my legs, crushing the thick branches binding me, then coiled up my body like armor, cold and familiar. Shadows draped over my limbs, winding around my chest and shoulders, wrapping me in a second skin. I belonged to them as much as they belonged to me.


    The demons slithered forward, licking at the warlock and witch’s heels. The witch''s eyes widened, panic taking hold as she stumbled back, retreating toward Katherine and the last of their companions. She left the warlock behind without hesitation.


    Coward.


    The shadows seized the warlock, tendrils coiled tighter, snaking beneath his robes, sinking into his flesh like fangs. He writhed, his mouth opening in a silent plea as they devoured him from within. I saw the flicker of light magic at his fingertips, but it sputtered out. Too weak. They were both tapped out.


    He was mine now.


    Using my enhanced speed, I intercepted the witch’s path of escape, appearing in front of her so suddenly that she stumbled back with a startled gasp. Her wide eyes locked onto mine—fear and defiance flickering across her face in equal measure.


    “You may have won this fight—” she began, her voice laced with venom, though the faint tremor beneath betrayed her fear. “They won’t stop coming for you—”


    Her words ended in a grotesque crunch as my hand clamped around her face mid-sentence, my fingers digging into her skull with merciless precision.


    “Let them,” I hissed, my tone sharp and low, dripping with menace.


    Her bones splintered under my grip, the sickening crack of shattering skull reverberating in the still air. Blood and fragments seeped through my fingers, warm and slick, each drop feeding the dark satisfaction that surged within me.


    Blood and fragments seeped through my fingers, warm and slick, each drop feeding the dark satisfaction that surged within me. Her body sagged in my grip, lifeless and I allowed her to fall, dropping her like discarded prey.


    One by one, they would all fall.


    And no one would stop me.


    I cast my glare on Katherine and the last remaining witch as another blast of lightning rocked the earth, splitting the ground beneath us. The air burned with the charge, and the scent of rain and scorched earth filled my lungs. I was closer now—so close I could taste the end.


    One witch now stood between me and my goal.


    Child’s play.


    “Katherine!” I roared, my voice ripping through the storm like a thunderclap, reverberating across the battlefield.