Chapter 228 Old Promise I

Lilith pulled up at Ella’s mansion, the sleek black V8 hissing softly as it came to a halt on the driveway. The engine barely had time to wind down before the door lifted with a smooth mechanical hiss. Without even shutting it, Lilith stepped out in a flash, her heels clicking sharply against the marble pathway as she rushed toward the front door. She didn’t bother knocking.

The heavy oak doors slammed open under her push. Her eyes immediately landed on the figure lying still on the long leather couch in the middle of the wide, luxurious living room—and her heart skipped a beat.

"Liam..." she whispered, her voice caught between disbelief and fury.

There he was—shirtless, his pale skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, a thick bandage wrapped tightly around his lower torso, just above his waist. The cloth was stained dark red at the center, and the blood had already soaked through. Around him, bowls of ice and cold compresses sat scattered, half-melted. Ann sat in a corner, her knees tucked to her chest, tears streaking her cheeks silently. Ella hovered nearby, pacing. Lana was crouched beside Liam, gently pressing another ice pack onto his burning chest.

Lilith stormed inside, her gaze locked on Lana as she demanded sharply, "What the hell happened to him?! What is going on here?!"

Lana, clearly rattled and exhausted, reached over to the table and picked up a long, cruel-looking dagger wrapped in cloth. She turned to face Lilith and held it up.

"This," she said quietly. "He was stabbed with this."

Lilith narrowed her eyes at the weapon. The blade itself glowed faintly, a low crimson hue pulsing along the edges as if it were alive.

"We don’t know much about it," Lana continued, her voice trembling with frustration and fear, "but Boris said it would give him a slow, torturous death. That it burns him from the inside out... that his soul will be tormented endlessly."

Lilith’s expression darkened. Her heart clenched painfully at the thought. Torture? Her Liam—her Liam—going through this kind of hell? She dropped to her knees beside the couch without hesitation, grabbing his hand.

The moment she touched him, she felt it. His skin was scalding. Not just hot—blistering, feverish, unnatural heat radiating from every pore. Her fingers recoiled slightly from the sensation, but she forced herself to hold on.

"He’s burning up," she muttered, staring at his unconscious face. His breaths were shallow, lips dry and cracked, and every so often, his body twitched violently. "And this was from one stab?"

Lana nodded. "Yes. That’s why I called you. We thought maybe... you could use your powers. Ice. Maybe it could help slow the burning... or at least ease the pain. The ice we’re using isn’t doing anything."

Lilith looked around. Ice bowls melted uselessly. Cold compresses turned warm within minutes. She looked back down at Liam.

Without wasting another second, she inhaled deeply and placed both palms on his chest. Blue light shimmered around her fingers as she summoned her power. Icy wind curled around her arms as a delicate web of frost began to spread slowly across his body. It crept over his skin, cooling it gently, as the heat coming off him began to drop.

Everyone around them watched breathlessly. The room fell quiet, hope flickering in their eyes for the first time since Liam collapsed.

His breathing evened out slightly. His body stopped twitching. The redness in his skin faded slowly as if Lilith’s ice was suppressing the fire within.

Lana exhaled with relief. "It’s working..."

But just as those words left her mouth, Liam’s body suddenly jerked. His back arched slightly, and a guttural groan escaped his throat. His breathing grew shallow again—faster, uneven. A pulse of deep red light flashed from the dagger wound, and the ice around his body shattered with a sharp crackling noise.

Lilith’s hands flinched away instinctively as the cold backfired. The temperature around them rose again unnaturally fast. She stood up abruptly, clenching her fists.

"I’m making it worse," she growled in frustration. "It’s reacting. My ice is pushing against it, but whatever that poison is... it’s too potent. It’s lashing out."

She turned to Lana, her tone harsher now. "What the hell happened? Last I saw, he was boarding a jet with you, heading to Russia to break some stupid contract marriage deal. Now he’s here, on death’s door, stabbed with a cursed dagger?"

Lana rubbed her forehead, smearing a streak of dried blood that still clung to her skin from earlier. She looked tired—completely drained.

"There’s a lot we have to tell you," she muttered. "Too much to explain in one go."

Lilith’s eyes drifted from Lana to Ann, who still hadn’t moved from her spot on the floor. Her hands were stained with blood. Her eyes were blank. Her body was shivering—not from cold, but from guilt, from shock.

---

Lilith stood silently, her gaze locked on Ann. The room was heavy with tension as Lana finished explaining everything that had happened in Russia—how they had killed Sam, how the Sokolov prince turned out to be a vampire, how the entire family had powers beyond human, and most of all, how Ann had been compelled... forced against her will to stab Liam with that cursed dagger.

Everyone expected something violent from Lilith—an outburst, a slap, a flash of rage aimed at Ann. Even Lana had subtly shifted a little closer to Ann, just in case she had to jump in. Ella’s posture had tensed as well, as if ready to restrain Lilith. But none of that happened.

Instead, Lilith just stood there. Still. Calm.

She stared at Ann in a daze, almost unreadable.

Ann couldn’t even meet her eyes. She just sat frozen, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, Liam’s blood still drying under her fingernails. Her breathing was shallow. Her heart was racing. But she didn’t speak.

Finally, Lilith’s brow furrowed. "Why the hell are you all looking at me like I’m about to rip her skin off?"

Her voice wasn’t angry. If anything, it was confused.

"She wasn’t at fault," Lilith said, her tone firm. "She was compelled to do it. What do you expect? To fight off the will of a centuries-old vampire prince with raw willpower? No one walks away from that kind of power."

Lana blinked, genuinely surprised.

Ella let out a soft breath.

Even Ann looked up, slowly, her lips parting like she was going to say something—but she couldn’t. Nothing came out.

Lilith didn’t linger on the moment. Her sharp eyes flicked to the dagger, still wrapped in cloth on the table where Lana had left it. "This Prince Boris... you said he’s still alive?"

Lana nodded slowly. "Yeah. He didn’t chase after us. But he’s still in Russia. At the mansion probably."

Lilith’s voice sharpened with a decisive edge. "Good. Then I’m going to find him. And I’m going to ask him for the cure."

Lana let out a laugh—sharp, helpless, dry. "You’re serious?"

Lilith didn’t blink.

"That’s straight up suicide," Lana said flatly. "You’re talking about walking into the lair of vampires who’s powerful enough to compel Ann to stab Liam. He could twist your mind in half before you even open your mouth. You think he’ll just talk to you?"

"He might," Lilith said, crossing her arms. "And if he doesn’t, then at least I’ll have tried something. Sitting here and watching Liam die slowly isn’t an option."

Lana stared at her. "You’re insane."

"No. I’m desperate."

The air shifted. There was something in Lilith’s voice—something cold and unwavering. A deeper layer beneath her usual calm, seductive control. A layer that made Lana’s skin crawl a little, because she knew Lilith meant it. She would do it.

Lana’s mind sparked with an idea. "Wait. Wait, wait—before you go and do something that crazy... I’ll check something. My system. I can dig through the dark web threads and see if there’s anything about this dagger. Maybe someone’s seen something like it before."

Ella’s eyes narrowed. "You access the dark web?"

Everyone gave Lana a long look.

She held up her hands. "It’s not like I was buying organs or anything, damn. I don’t have time to explain."

Without waiting for more judgment, she darted toward the hallway, snatched a key from the hook near the door—one of Ella’s—and dashed out the door.

Lilith stepped up to the table, unwrapping the dagger. She examined the blood-stained blade closely, then snapped with her phone.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked from the doorway, halfway out.

"I know someone," Lilith said. "They might recognize it."

She turned and strode out, not wasting another second.

The room quieted again, and for a moment, no one said anything. Just Liam’s shallow breaths filled the silence.

Ella sat down slowly on the edge of a nearby ottoman. Her eyes were on her hands, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Then, she looked up at Ann.

"Stay with him," she said softly. "Watch him. I’m going to clean up."

Ann’s lips parted. "Ella, I—"

But Ella was already walking away. She wasn’t in the mood for talking.

Ann was left alone again. She turned to look at Liam.

He hadn’t moved since Lilith’s attempt to help. His body was still. His face looked calm... but too calm. Like death was just waiting for the right moment.

Ann didn’t dare move closer. Her heart throbbed painfully. She wanted to touch him, to hold him, to sob into his chest and tell him how sorry she was—but she couldn’t.

She was the one who stabbed him.

Even if it wasn’t her will... her hand had held the dagger. Her hand had sunk it in.

She just stood there, frozen, staring at the only man she had ever loved—unsure if he would survive the night.