<h4>Chapter 217: Blood & Deception</h4>
<strong>Sebastian~</strong>
"I’m listening," I muttered, forcing the words past my lips while keeping my eyes on Cassandra’s face—no, Jacob’s face. Stars, it was so unnerving. My mate’s eyes stared back at me, full of mischief that didn’t entirely belong to her. Her voice was the one I’d memorized, dreamed of, and would willingly bleed for—but the soul behind it was all Jacob. That smug, eternal wolf-spirit soul.
"Can you, uh... stop being her?" I added quickly, rubbing the back of my neck. "It’s weird. I feel like I’mmitting a crime just talking to you."
Jacob-as-Cassandra grinned. "Dramatic as always." But thankfully, he shimmered—like air folding inward—and the illusion melted away. The midnight hair turned tousled and wild again, the feminine grace shifted back to that easy, quiet confidence of a predator who didn’t need to roar to be feared.
Jacob. Back to normal. Thank the gods.
"Better?" he asked, smirking.
"Much," I breathed out, feeling tension I didn’t even realize I had bleed from my shoulders. "Now talk. Please. Tell me what the hell is going on before I lose my mind."
Jacob smirked, tilting his head like I was some kind of curiosity, then strolled over to the window and gazed out at the sunlight dancing across the ss.
"I’m going to swap myself with Cassandra at the trial," he said casually. "Illusion, full-body shift, energy signature—everything. They’ll never know it’s not her."
My heart skipped. "Wait, what?"
"You heard me," Jacob said calmly. "When the council calls her in, it won’t be her they get. It’ll be me—posing as her. The real Cassandra will be safely teleported back to your house, Sebastian, where Zane will be waiting to exin everything. And you..." He pointed at me with that eternal smirk that made my fists itch. "You’re going to kill me."
Silence mmed into the room like a dropped bomb.
And then, in perfect unison, Zane and I exploded:
"Have youpletely lost your damn mind?"
Jacob justughed—cool, unbothered. "Probably."
"I’m not killing you!" I snapped, stepping forward, boots striking the marble like gunshots. "Do I look like I’m in the mood for your twisted jokes? I know what I be when I kill—I don’t just cut, Jacob. I destroy."
Jacob’s eyes didn’t flinch. "You could try. But you won’t seed."
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline.
Zane scoffed, arms crossed like iron. "You’ve gone off the deep end, Jacob. You seriously want Sebastian to stage Cassandra’s death by killing you—just so the council thinks he never betrayed them?That’s a tightrope overva."
"I’m a god, Sebastian," he said gently, almost pityingly. "You think a vampire’s fangs, ws or de can end me? No. Not even close. Your worst will sting. That’s it."
Jacob went on, folding his arms. "And Zane, the coven will believe it because they want to. They’re desperate for closure, peace, blood. Give them all three, and they’ll convince themselves the lie is truth."
Meanwhile, Alexander, clearly uninterested in the grown-up talk, slipped out of his father’s arms and wandered into the next room, his stuffed phoenix trailing behind him. He discovered a pile of coasters and started stacking them into a shaky little tower, humming a quiet tune. Completely oblivious to the storm of war being brewed just a room away.
Back in the tension-soaked living room, I shook my head. "You want me to kill the woman I—" I bit down hard on the words, throat dry as bone. "I can’t bring myself to kill someone that looks exactly like her. She saved me, Jacob. When I didn’t think I deserved to be loved. Just like Zane did."
Zane gave me a quiet look of understanding. We’d both been rescued by impossible women.
Jacob’s expression softened for just a heartbeat. "And this is how you repay her. You lie for her. You bleed for her. You make them fear her and then kill her. You take their hatred and make it yours. They need a show, Sebastian. So give them the best damn performance of your life. Only then will they leave her alone."
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard. "And then what? What if they find her again?"
"They won’t," Jacob said with certainty. "Because she’ll be dead to them. Gone. Burnt to ash in front of them by you. And you’ll be the vampire who saved the coven from destruction."
Zane stepped in, voice low and sharp. "And I’ll make sure she’s safe. You just focus on doing what needs to be done, Seb."
I turned away, struggling to hold back the storm inside. Cassandra was one of two people in this cursed world who truly saw me. Not the vampire. Not the co-founder. Not the purple blood-carrier. Me.
And I had to pretend to destroy her?
Jacob ced a hand on my shoulder. "Sebastian," he said softly. "You’re not losing her. You’re saving her. This is the only way."
I nodded slowly, breath shaking. "Tell me what to say. Exactly."
Jacob’s voice shifted into a tone that belonged more to a general than a spirit.
"Tell them she came to you, tricked you with illusions and promises. Say she seduced you, confused your senses. Make them think she wanted your blood for her demon master, Kalmia but you saw through it. Tell them you yed along because you wanted to catch and kill her yourself. Say that you waited for the right moment, that you never stopped being loyal to your coven. That even if they hadn’t stepped in, you would’ve killed her yourself."
"Got it," I breathed. "And then I tear you apart in front of everyone and set your body aze."
Jacob nodded. "Brutal. Convincing. Bloody."
"And you’ll be fine?" Zane asked, skeptical.
"Please," he said with a wink. "I’ve survived wars older than your ancestors. I’ll be fine."
I ran both hands through my hair, the weight of this n suffocating.
"And what about after?" I asked, voice hoarse. "What if someone sees her one day?"
"She’ll disappear," Jacob said smugly. "We will talk about that once this task is over."
I tried to speak but my voice cracked.
"She’ll live," Jacob said again, gently. "But only if you let her die in their eyes."
And that was it.
The worst kind of salvation.
<strong>********</strong>
I stood at the threshold of the trial chamber, boots echoing sharply against the cold stone floor. Each step was a hammer to the silence, loud and deliberate. All around me—above, behind, beside—a sea of eyes bore down. Some burned with judgment, others with betrayal, and a few... with something worse: pity.
My coven.
My council.
My enemies.
And in the center of that grim arena, shackled and hunched like a broken marite, was her.
Or rather, Jacob. Wearing her face like a mask he had no right to possess.
Cassandra.
The vampire council sat high above us, faces carved from marble and centuries of tradition. When they finally spoke, their words were like des drawn across old scars.
"Is it true, Sebastian?" one of them asked, his voice cold and sharp. "That you took this creature into your home?"
Another leaned forward. "That you lived with her—mated with her—under the same roof, like a bonded pair?"
A third snarled, "This rogue werewolf who serves a demon, who has ughtered hundreds of our kind. Even members of this coven—your coven, Sebastian—have perished under her ws. Why? Why would you bring such horror into our midst? What madness possessed you to betray your people?"
Jacob, in Cassandra’s skin, yed the scene like a seasoned actor. Her face twisted into a masterstroke of fury and grief—eyes glistening with pain, lips curled with indignation. A perfect performance.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear the chains off her, drag her into my arms, and damned the consequences.
But instead...
I stepped into the center of the chamber, slow and deliberate, until all eyes were on me.
Then I bared my fangs and let my voice boom through the chamber like thunder rolling down a mountain.
"This woman," I began, "came to me willingly. She seduced me with lies, spun tales thick with false tenderness. She whispered sweet nothings and poisoned promises. She told me she loved me."
I paused, letting the tension snap taut.
"But what she wanted," I growled, "was not love. It was blood. My blood. A gift for the demon she serves."
Gasps cracked through the room like dry twigs snapping underfoot. The council leaned forward, some horrified, others intrigued.
"But she didn’t know," I continued, my voice colder now, sharper. "She didn’t know I saw through it from the start. I yed along. I waited. I fed her hope. Because I wanted the honor of destroying her myself."
The crowd erupted—cheers of approval, whispers of doubt, nces exchanged like silent daggers.
Across the arena, the chained figure lifted her head. Cassandra’s face... but not Cassandra.
Jacob, puppeteering heartbreak and betrayal to perfection.
"You did this," he said, her voice raw and using.
I met those familiar, haunting eyes. "I did," I replied. "And now, I get to finish the game."
Then I lunged.
My ws tore through the illusion, shredding flesh that wasn’t hers, not truly. Blood erupted in a gruesome arc. Screams followed, high and panicked. I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t stop.
Like a beast unleashed, I tore through Jacob’s disguise with feral rage—fangs, ws, fury—all until there was nothing left but gore, fire, and silence. I set the remains aze myself, watching the mes devour thest trace of the imposter.
The trial chamber was frozen. Not a sound, not a breath.
I stood at the center, soaked in blood, shoulders heaving, trembling like a leaf caught in a hurricane.
"She’s dead," I said, my voice low and hollow. "Justice has been served."
And then I copsed to my knees.
Around me, the crowd burst into victorious cheers—thunderous, deafening.
But I didn’t hear them.
All I heard was the echo in my own mind.
<i>I killed the woman I loved. </i>
Even if she was never real. Even if it was all a lie.
It still shattered me.
And I didn’t know if I’d ever recover from it.