Chapter 35-The secret art

Chapter 35: 35-The secret art

"We are here. Just hold on a little longer," she had forgotten rules and conduct long back.

Varitreya reached the whiteblood tower in less than a minute. The towering structure stood at the highest point of Veris Academy, carved from pale marble that reflected the moonlight like polished ivory.

Unlike the other dormitories, the tower was eerily quiet. Ancient runes glowed faintly across its walls, sealing the entire floor from outside observation. It was a sanctuary reserved for the royal bloodline alone.

The doors burst open. For the first time since its construction, vampires with lower bloods were setting foot inside the tower. Luckily, it was nearly morning, and the whole school was asleep.

Varitreya crossed the threshold without slowing, carrying Zolani in both arms while Maisa struggled after her.

The sprint from the forest had drained the newly turned redblood far more than she cared to admit. Her legs trembled violently as adrenaline faded, yet she forced herself onward.

’Oh my goodness!’ She exclaimed inwardly. ’What terrifying speed. It’s not like flying at all, more like bending time and space!’

The princess laid Zolani gently upon an ivory couch located on the third floor, in her side of the tower. Only then did she finally look at the wound that was slowly draining the mixed blood.

The broken shaft had already been removed, but the blessed arrowhead remained lodged inside the mixedblood’s chest. Although vampire flesh continuously tried to heal itself, the holy enchantments embedded within the metal prevented the wound from closing.

Wisps of smoke still rose from the injury. Zolani groaned, bitting her tongue and inner cheeks to stop herself from crying out. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.

Varitreya’s expression darkened. "Blessed silver? These hunters are getting bolder and bolder!"

Zolani managed a weak smile despite the pain. "I’ve... had worse."

"You don’t have to pretend to be strong with me," Varitreya said, the princess’s normally cold voice carrying an unfamiliar softness. "You are in pain. I might not understand how much it hurts, but I can tell it does."

Maisa stood several steps away, hugging her own arms tightly. Seeing Zolani lying there because she had stepped between the arrow and its true target filled her with crushing guilt.

"This is my fault..." she weakly let out.

"No, Maisa... don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you," Zolani looked at her immediately and managed to say to assure her. "It really isn’t your fault."

"If I hadn’t run away..."

"If you hadn’t run," Zolani interrupted gently, "those hunters would still have found some other vampire to hurt."

Maisa lowered her head. The guilt remained. She couldn’t convince herself that it wasn’t her fault. Everything was fine before. Everyone was safe behind the safety of the academy, but she just had to sneak out.

In her moment of seeking some freedom and fresh air, she had forgotten how dangerous the world was, especially for vampires with the existence of her family and more like them.

’I have to stop pulling people into messes,’ she thought, realizing that being new and uneducated in vampire ways was an excuse that would only last so long.

She couldn’t keep using her lack of knowledge to drag people down. Because of her, redbloods had come out of the burning oil and straight into the fire, the princess was facing problems, the peaceful academy she found upon arrival had turned into a mess with riots and hatred from higher bloodlines and now, she got Zolani injured.

Het guilt had no known limits. The pit just kept getting bigger and bigger the longer she thought about it.

Varitreya silently pulled out her phone. Her fingers moved swiftly across the screen. ’Come to the whiteblood tower immediately. I’ve adjusted the seal at the door. You should be able to enter,’ she sent the message to both Addessa and Lumi.

Then, she slipped the device away. For several moments, she simply watched Zolani breathe. Her crimson eyes drifted toward her own wrist.

One drop of whiteblood would heal almost anything, but when she remembered the arena, the whispers, the accusations, and the outrage still ongoing in her nation, she couldn’t bring herself to feed Zolani her blood.

A single willing drop of royal blood had nearly pushed the entire vampire nation toward rebellion. And brought too much hate down onto the redblood part of her nation.

If she repeated it, especially for a mixedblood, the consequences would spread far beyond herself. Her subjects already questioned her judgment.

The nobles would claim she had begun favouring lower bloodlines. Addessa’s mother would seize the opportunity to inflame the political divide and add mixedbloods to the pile of vampires that should be eliminated. After all, mixedbloods had human blood flowing in their veins too.

’No, I can’t repeat my mistake.’

She couldn’t risk another public incident. "There is another way to heal you without using my blood." Varitreya murmured.

Maisa looked up. "What way?" She asked eagerly. The sooner Zolani would be saved, the sooner she can scratch one thing off her list of mistakes she’d made.

"The oldest whiteblood healing art," she said, feeling a bit hesitant. The art was a family hidden secret because it involves blood sharing, which in the vampire community is considered intimate.

Even though the purpose of the art is to heal, it sparks a different kind of feeling and can trigger zinging between the whiteblood and the vampire being healed.

’Since I’m already bound to her anyway...it shouldn’t make much of a difference,’ she thought, the bond between them finding some use since it appeared.

She moved behind Zolani, carefully helping her sit upright, and then she sat herself behind her and let Zolani rest on her chest.

Had it been two weeks back, Zolani wouldn’t have even set foot in the whiteblood tower, let alone get a chance to be held so closely by the princess.

The princess wrapped one arm around her shoulders to support her weight. "This will hurt only in the moment I dig my teeth into you. After that, the pain will transfer to me," she told her.

With surprising gentleness, she brushed Zolani’s crimson braid aside, exposing the side of her neck.

"There may be pain, can you hear me," Varitreya warned quietly again since Zolani didn’t respond the first time.

"I trust you," Zolani answered without hesitation. Just being that close to her, smelling her sweet scent and being cared for by her, was already more than Zolani could ever hope in her life.

The white part of the flower that represented their bond start glowing gently. Zolani felt Varitreya more deeply than she should.

For the first time that evening, Varitreya hesitated. Trust? Such a simple word, and yet it settled heavily in her heart. She couldn’t help but wonder when it was that they became so close that she could express that without holding back.

Her crimson eyes deepened in colour. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind, choosing to focus on the urgent matter at hand first.

Her fangs descended, and slowly, she lowered her head. Then, she bit into Zolani’s pale skin.

"Aah!" Zolani gasped sharply.

The ancient whiteblood technique began. Unlike ordinary feeding, this ritual was not simply about taking blood to satisfy hunger. Whiteblood royalty guarded the practice as one of their oldest healing arts.

Through the bond created during the feeding, the healer drew away suffering itself; absorbing pain, exhaustion, and lingering harm into their own body so another could recover.

The transfer struck instantly. Zolani’s shoulders, which had been rigid with agony, slowly relaxed. The burning in her wound lessened, and her breathing steadied.