Lilith lunged forward, her smile widening into something terrible—a predator's grin, sharp and hungry. The threads around her fingers snapped outward, racing toward Isolde like silver serpents.
Isolde's crimson eyes widened. Her hands shot up, summoning blood but nothing came. The crimson tide that had answered her call so readily moments ago now lay still on the floor, inert, unresponsive.
'Tch...' Her mind raced, panic clawing at the edges of her thoughts. 'My mana is depleted. That human's light spell burned through more than I realized.'
The threads reached her before she could retreat.
They wrapped around her wrists, her ankles, her throat—holding, immobilizing. The threads didn't cut. Not yet. Lilith pulled, and Isolde stumbled forward, her body no longer her own.
Lilith stood before her, close enough to touch. Her crimson eyes, bright and terrible, fixed on the vampire's pale face with an expression that made Isolde's blood run cold.
