PRINCE ALPHA ONYX: The Mark of Lucian. Chapters 41-67

BOOK 2

Chapter 41: His Mark, My Wrath.

I barely had time to catch my breath before his lips were on mine again, this time even more demanding. His hands gripping my waist, pulling me impossibly closer until there was no space left between us. Every inch of me pressing against his, and my body responding on instinct, melting into the heat of his touch, the roughness of his kiss. I hate how much I crave him, how every touch sends fire racing through my veins, making it harder to think, harder to resist. But I don’t want to resist. Not anymore. His hands slide up my back, fingers tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss, his mouth moving over mine like he’s trying to devour me. My heart pounding in my chest, my breath coming in short gasps between the frantic clash of our lips. I pull him closer, my fingers digging into his shoulders, needing to feel more, needing him like I need air. Every kiss, every touch feels like a battle—fierce and unrelenting, as if we are both trying to prove something but losing ourselves in the process.

He breaks the kiss, his lips barely leaving mine as he whispers against them, his voice ragged. “You drive me crazy, Ava. You have no idea what you do to me.”

I swallow, trying to catch my breath, my hands still gripping his shirt as I look up at him. His eyes are darker than I have ever seen before, making my pulse race even faster.

“Then stop fighting it,” I whisper, my voice barely audible but filled with all the longing I’ve been trying to hide. “Stop pretending you don’t want this as much as I do.”

His eyes flash, and in one swift movement, he lifts me off my feet, laying me on the bed, his body pinning mine as his lips found my neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my skin. I gasp, my head falling back as the sensation of his mouth on me sends waves of heat crashing through me. My legs wrap around his waist, instinctively pulling him closer. My body shudders as his kiss becomes more fervent, his lips and tongue ravaging mine with an almost violent passion. His hand on my hip tightens, fingers digging into my flesh with a possessive force that makes me moan against his mouth. His free hand slides down, gripping my thigh and hitching my leg higher around his waist, pressing himself harder against me. The friction between us is intoxicating, the heat of his body searing into mine. His tongue explores every inch of my mouth, his teeth nipping at my lips, demanding everything I have to give.

A low growl escapes him as he pulls back, his breath hot and heavy. “You have no idea what you’re asking,” he murmurs against my mouth, the words sending a thrill through me.

“Then let me find out,” I urge, my hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer, urging him to give in. “I want all of you—every part of this.”

He hesitates for a moment, and I can see the struggle playing out in his expression. “Ava… My world is dangerous. Dark. You can get hurt.”

I meet his gaze, unwavering. “I’ve seen darkness, Onyx. I’ve faced my share of danger. I’m not afraid of your world.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of admiration mingled with the worry etched across his features. “You don’t understand what you’re getting into. It’s not just about us. There are consequences.”

I reach up, gently cupping his face in my hands. “I’m not asking for a fairy tale. Just let go for once. Let me in.”

“You think you want this, but you don’t.”

“I’m a grown woman Onyx. I can make my own decisions.”

“God, you’re stubborn,” he says, shaking his head, a mix of frustration and admiration in his eyes.

“Maybe,” I shoot back, my voice low and fierce. “But I know what I want.” I bite my lips. He groans.

For a moment, he just stared at me, as if weighing his options, and then I saw it—the moment he decided to give in. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Remember, you asked for this.”

I feel a thrill rush through me as he captures my lips again, this time with an intensity that speaks of his desire and the promise of what’s to come. His kisses deepen, devouring me as if he wants to consume every part of me. I let myself melt against him, surrendering to the heat and urgency of the moment. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to take more.

“Onyx,” I whispered between kisses, “Show me. Show me everything.”

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his expression fierce yet vulnerable. “You need to be sure, Ava. There’s no turning back.”

“I’m sure,” I reply, my heart racing as I hold his gaze. “I want all of you, dark and dangerous.”

His breath caught, and I could see the internal battle raging behind his eyes. But then, something shifted. With a low growl, he captures my lips again, his hands roaming my body with a possessive urgency that ignites every nerve in me.

His hips ground into mine, the hard cock pressing against my core, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. My body arches into him, desperate for more.

He pulls back slightly, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with an unspoken promise. “You drive me insane,” he growls, his voice thick with lust.

“Good,” I panted, my own voice trembling with desire. “At least I’m good at something.”

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he crushes his lips to mine again, more demanding, more relentless. His hands roam my body, exploring, claiming, his touch setting me on fire. I am lost in him, in the overwhelming sensation of his touch, the intoxicating taste of him. All that matters is the here and now, the raw, primal connection between us, the insatiable hunger that consumes us both. He violates my mouth in so many wonderful ways—sucking, biting, licking, exploring it rapaciously. He bites down on my bottom lip with just enough pressure to make me taste my own blood. A low, approving growl tears from the back of his throat. His fingers digging into my hip with a ferocity that will surely leave a mark, but I don’t care. It’s getting harder to breathe, but I don’t care. To me, this is the perfect way to meet one’s maker—death by a toe-curling, spine-chilling kiss. His soft lips are merciless and hostile yet tender and possessive, charged with longing and desire. I am lost in him, in the overwhelming sensation of his touch, the intoxicating taste of him. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions—anger, desire, frustration, and something deeper, something I don’t want to acknowledge. His kiss is a drug, and I am hopelessly addicted. Every rational thought screams that this is wrong, that I should stop, but the overwhelming desire drowns out all reason. I need him just as much as he needs me, a mutual hunger driven by our own inner demons.

My hands move instinctively to lift his shirt, my fingers desperate to feel his bare skin. He catches on immediately, peeling off his shirt and discarding it beside us. The sight of his chiselled chest makes my breath hitch, and the heat between us intensifies. His lips crash back onto mine in a fierce, vehement kiss, consuming me completely. A moan escapes me, swallowed by his mouth. My hands explore his muscular back, feeling the tension and raw power beneath his skin. His lips trail down my neck, biting and sucking, marking me as his. I gasp, arching into him, my need for him growing with every second.

“God, I want you,” he growls, a primal sound that makes my pussy clench. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

His hands slide under my shirt, lifting it over my head and tossing it aside. His eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of me, and I feel a thrill of power knowing how much he desires me. His lips find mine again, more demanding, more desperate. His hands move to my breasts, kneading and teasing, making me gasp and writhe beneath him.

“Onyx,” I gasp.

He growls in response, a primal sound. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down my neck, over my collarbone, leaving wet, sloppy kisses in their wake.

I moan, arching my back the moment his lips find that spot right above my collarbone. Oh, dear God. Fire ignites in my veins, every fiber of my being burning with want, need, desire, and lust. It feels like a hot, steaming iron had been pressed to that very spot, sending waves of heat and pleasure radiating through my body. The surrounding air is charged with electrifying passion, excitement, and arousal. The way he nibbles and grazes that spot with his teeth drives me into a delirious frenzy. I can’t think, breathe or speak. My body demands something only it seems to know.

“Onyx, please. Please,” I beg, my voice trembling with need, desperate for something I can’t quite grasp, yet my body knows exactly what it wants.

His eyes darken with a mix of desire and possessiveness. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he whispers against my skin.

“I-I don’t know,” I stammer, my mind foggy with lust. “Just... more. I need more.”

He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating against my skin, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through me. “I’ll give you everything you need,” he promises, his voice low and seductive.

His hands roam my body with a possessive urgency, his fingers tracing the curves and dips of my body as if committing every inch to memory. His lips continue their assault on my sensitive spot, driving me to the brink of madness with each kiss, each nibble, each teasing touch. He quickly removes my pants and knickers in one move. Then slides his thick long fingers inside my wetness and I moan. I nearly come from just hearing that.

“Fuck,” he groans as he starts drilling my needy pussy. “You’re so wet.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I moan, my voice trembling with desperate need.

He slips a third finger inside me, his thumb circling my clit. “You like that, baby?” he growls.

“Yes,” I pant, my body arching into his touch, craving more.

“You want to come on my fingers or my cock, angel?” he whispers, his voice dark and seductive, filled with a possessive hunger.

“Um…” I stammer, my mind foggy with lust as he slows his fingers, moving in and out of me at a painstakingly slow pace that drives me wild with anticipation.

“Answer me,” he demands.

“Your cock,” I finally gasped, my body trembling with need. “Please, Onyx, I need you.”

A wicked smile spread across his lips. “Good girl,” he murmurs, withdrawing his fingers and quickly shedding the rest of his clothes.

He positions himself at my entrance, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. “You’re mine,” he growls, pushing into me with one swift, powerful thrust.

I cry out in both pain and pleasure, my body arching against his as he fills me completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that sends shockwaves of ecstasy through my entire being. He moves with a relentless, steady rhythm, each thrust deep and powerful, driving me closer to the edge with every stroke. His hands gripping my hips, holding me firmly in place as he pounds into me.

“Oh, God, Onyx,” I moan, my fingers digging into his back, desperate to hold onto something as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak.

“You like that?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“You like being fucked hard and ruthless?” Onyx chuckles darkly, his breath hot against my ear as he thrusts deeper.

A shiver runs down my spine as his words send another wave of pleasure through me. “Please, don’t stop…”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “Not until I’ve wrung every last drop of pleasure from this gorgeous body of yours.”

I whimper, my legs trembling as his pace quickens, each thrust sending me spiraling closer to the edge. “Tell me, who’s making you feel this good?”

“You… Onyx, it’s you!” My voice came out breathless, barely able to form the words.

“Good,” he murmurs against my skin. “Because you’re mine.” Onyx’s teeth graze my neck as he growls, his voice dripping with dominance. “Look at you, completely at my mercy. You’re so wet, so fuckin’ desperate for me. You take everything I give you, don’t you? So needy for my cock. I’m going to ruin you, over and over again, until the only name you know is mine.”

The raw intensity in his voice makes my head spin, my body trembling beneath his touch. “I want that… I want all of it.”

He chuckles darkly, his lips brushing my ear. “I know you do. And I’m going to give it to you—hard, deep, until you’re screaming for more.” His hips snap forward, making me gasp. “Tell me how much you need it.”

“I need it… More, Onyx… please, I need more,” I beg, my voice barely a whisper, lost in the haze of pleasure.

“Good girl,” he groans, thrusting even harder. “Let me hear those pretty little moans as I fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

Onyx’s pace quickens, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I can feel myself teetering on the edge.

“Yes, yes, yesss, yesss!”

“Come for me,” Onyx growls, his grip on my hips tightening. “Come all over my cock like the needy little thing you are.”

His command is all I need. A powerful wave of pleasure crashes over me, my entire body convulsing as I shatter in his arms. My vision blurs, my breath catching in my throat as I cry out his name, lost in the overwhelming ecstasy.

“Fuck, yes,” Onyx groans, his own breath ragged as he rides me through the high, his voice raw and hungry. “That’s it, baby. Just like that… Let me feel every bit of it.”

But it still isn’t enough. I need more. “Onyx, please. Please,” I beg, my voice barely more than a whisper. I starve for something only my body knows it needs.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says, his voice heavy with lust.

“Please?” I moan, desperation dripping from my words.

The air around us crackles with electricity, thick with passion, excitement, and arousal. He leans down and grazes that spot with his teeth, sending me into a delirious frenzy. My body demands something from him, something primal and urgent, but I have no idea what or why.

“Onyx?” I cry out.

He pins my wrists above my head as he buries his head into my neck, breathing heavily as if he’s trying to hold himself back. “Ava,” he groans, his voice laced with pain and desire.

I writhe beneath him, feeling the intense pressure building inside me. “Please, Onyx. I need it. I need you,” I whisper, not fully understanding what I am asking for but knowing I need something more.

He growls deeply, the sound vibrating through me, making my pussy clench aground him. He groans.

“You have no idea what you’re begging for,” he says, his voice straining.

“I thought we’ve been through this already.”

His eyes darken, a primal hunger taking over. “You really want this?” he asks, his teeth grazing that sensitive spot on my neck again, sending shivers down my spine.

“Yes,” I pant, not entirely sure what I am agreeing to but knowing I can’t deny the overwhelming need.

With a low, guttural growl, he sinks his teeth into my neck. The sharp bite ignites a rush of pain that swiftly morphs into an overwhelming, burning pleasure, radiating through every inch of me. I gasp, my body arching into him. My breath came in ragged gasps, and before I knew it I was coming again, harder and more intense that ever before without him even needing to move inside me. But this feels different. Every nerve ending is on fire, the pleasure almost too much to bear. My heart leapt with joy and every inch of my body is singing his praise. I feels like our souls mashed together as one.

Like we are one.

Like I belong to him and he belongs to me.

Like leaves and trees.

Like bees and honey.

Like peanut butter and jelly.

Like sugar and kool-aid.

Like hot cocoa and marshmallows.

I can feel it in the depth of my soul. From the tip of my head to the bottom of my feet and deep in my bones. He pulls his fangs from my neck and claims my lips once more, swallowing my fervent moans as he starts moving inside me. I moan like a bitch in heat, arms locked around his neck, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His hard chest rubs against my erect nipples, sending electric shocks of pleasure through my body. Everywhere we touch feels supercharged, a delicious mix of pleasure, desire, and lust blazing in my veins, spreading heat all over my body. He’s rough like the way I love, yet tender at the same time. His touch is sensual and aggressive, but his lips are gentle and caring. I love how every inch of his hard body feels against my delicate one. His passionate groans and grunts with each hard thrust are music to my ears. My entire existence narrows down to him, to this moment. The only thing my body knows is him. The only thing I want to breathe is him. And the best part is knowing he feels the exact same way. I can feel it flooding into me, just how much he cares, how much he loves me. It’s all so overwhelming that my brain hasn’t processed all my new found emotions as he drives himself deeper, harder, and faster inside me. I feel my muscles tightening as I raise my hips to meet his thrusts. He picks up the pace, growling approvingly. I scream his name as my pussy clamps around him, and he sinks his fangs into my neck again. I know he’s feeding on me, but it feels elating, as if I’m drunk on it. Waves of hot pleasure ripple through my body, leaving me whimpering and writhing beneath him.

“Fuck, Ava,” he groans, his voice filled with raw desire. “You’re mine, all mine,” he says more to himself than me.

He bites the top of my breast, feeding as he pounds into me relentlessly, each thrust driving me closer to the edge once more. My body quivers under his assault, each sensation heightens to an unbearable degree. His cock fills me completely, stretching me to the limit. The pleasure is intense, almost too much to bear, but I want more. I need more.

“Come for me, baby,” he growls, his pace never faltering. “I want to feel you come around my cock again.”

His words push me over the edge, and I scream his name as my orgasm tears through me. My body clenches around him, and he follows me over the edge, his own pleasure ripping through him as he fills me up. He collapses on top of me, both of us panting and spent.We lie there, our bodies still entwined, the connection between us stronger than ever. I know that I belong to him, and he belongs to me. And no matter what happens, nothing can ever change that.

Then suddenly it hit me, regret, guilt and something else. But just as fast I felt it, it was gone. Onxy pulls out of me cursing as he snatches his jeans off the floor. I become overwhelmed by all the emotions I am feeling, I don’t know if they are mine or his but I know they weren’t all mine. But the final words he uttered before leaving delivered the kill shot. I saw the knife before I felt it impale me.

“This was a mistake. I don’t even want you,” he grumbles as he storms out the room slamming the door behind him.

An intense pain radiates from my neck, my heart shatters, and my lungs feel as though they have shrivelled up. I can’t breathe; it feels like someone is holding a plastic bag over my head. Dark spots begin to dance before my eyes as I pass out.

I wake up feeling exhausted, sore, sad, and hollow in a cold, empty bed. I lay curled up, replaying last night over and over in my head. And cue the waterworks. His words feel like billions of needles being jabbed into my skin. Then I was chopped into millions of pieces, tossed into a freezer, and dropped at the bottom of a frozen lake. My numb, cold body can’t feel anything except the excruciating pain of his rejection. At least I know I’ll definitely hate ice fishing.

I hate him. I don’t even want to see his stupid, hot face. Yet every inch of my body, every cell, every fibre, every ounce of blood yearns for him, even though he poured acid into my very soul. But what hurt the most, besides my pulverized heart, was my neck where he fed. It feels sore. Bloody brilliant. Just what I need—a love bite from a vampire that probably comes with a free tetanus shot. Because why not add a side of infection to my menu of misery? Maybe next, he’ll gift me a complimentary rabies vaccine. Ah, the perks of being his bloody chew toy

I drag myself out of bed for a long, well-deserved shower. I scrub furiously, trying to rid myself of his vile touch and scent, but it is utterly pointless. My skin feels raw, and no amount of scrubbing can erase the lingering sensation of his despicable touch. The water turned tepid as I stood there, feeling defeated and empty. No matter how hard I scrub, his scent clings to me like a stain I can’t wash away. It is as if his touch has seeped into my pores, leaving me feeling contaminated and violated. Tears mingle with the water as I try to wash away the emotional turmoil he has stirred within me.

I finally leave the shower. I  wipe the fog off the mirror and stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes widen so much I think they might fall out of my face. There, on my neck, were two deep bite marks in a ruby red circle outline, surrounded by a wider black circle outline. And around it, in bold black letters, is the wanker’s name: ‘Onyx Kayli Dreklaus.’ I didn’t even know the shithead had a middle name. The bite mark throbs slightly, reminding me of his violation.

“He branded me in my sleep! How dare he!” I scream, storming out of the bathroom towards the closet. In under a minute, I throw on some clothes, my mind racing with fury. “I’m going to hunt that mutt down and shove my foot so far up his ass he’ll need a proctologist. He does not get to be an asshat to me and then tramp stamp me! AHHH!” How can he do this to me? After everything, he has the audacity to mark me like some possession. It wasn’t enough that he shattered my heart into a million pieces, but he had to leave his mark on my body too. The nerve of that blood-sucking, arrogant prick!

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Chapter 42: Sensing the Enemy.

How did I know he was outside? My Spidey senses are tingling, fully loaded and ready for action. That bloodsucker—coffin stuffer, tail chaser—is dog meat! Just wait ‘til I get my hands on him!

“What did you bloody do to me?!” I shout, my voice shaking with fury as I stomp towards him.

“Have to be more specific,” he replies coolly, not even bothering to turn around.

“My neck, you dingbat!” I snarl, turning to the side and pointing at his handiwork. “Did you think your little vampire voodoo would go unnoticed?”

Ace, drops his cell phone onto the grass in front of Onyx while choking on air with his eyes wide as tennis balls as he stares at my neck. Beside him, Damian is so shocked he lets his laptop slip from his grasp, his jaw following. Aurora, holding a bow and arrow, releases the arrow unintentionally, her gaze fixed on my neck. A scream echoes from somewhere in the yard, indicating the arrow has landed. Theron’s mouth opens and closes repeatedly, like a fish out of water. At that exact moment, Sky takes a sip of her red wine, only to spray it across Sirius’s back. Sirius, completely engrossed in the sight of my neck, didn’t even flinch.

“You wanted it,” he shrugs and shoots the reapers a look and they quickly recover.

Ace and Damian pick up their devices. Sirius finally notices the red wine staining his shirt. Skylar shoots him an apologetic look. Theron and Aurora just stare at each other, trying to process it.

“When was this!?”

He laughs darkly, the sound sending shivers down my spine, and finally turns to face me. “You were begging for it.”

“Beg? Why you… you….” The instant his eyes locked with mine, a shiver ran through every fibre of my being, igniting a wildfire beneath my skin and I lost all words.

My heart is pounding erratically, each beat sending waves of excitement through me, while a swarm of butterflies erupt in my stomach. The mark on my neck tingled fiercely, as though it recognized its counterpart. My gaze is glued to him, an unbreakable connection that feels vital to my very existence. My body thrums with a euphoric resonance, a melody of yearning that seems to sing directly to him. My breath catches in my throat, and the mere thought of blinking fills me with dread as if he might vanish in that brief instant. If I looked away, surely my lungs would seize and my heart would stop. Suddenly I ached to fling myself into his strong muscular arms, to lose myself in the solidity and warmth of his presence. I clench my fists at my sides, squeezing my thighs together, and dig my heels into the soft earth beneath me, battling the torrent of wanton thoughts that assailed me. The more I struggle to suppress them, the more vividly they surface, relentless and consuming. All I can think of is him inside me pounding me into oblivion.

“W-what did you do to me?” I manage to gasp, my voice thick with longing and breathless with the intensity of my desire.

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, betraying my embarrassment. I cringe inwardly as Sirius, Skylar, Theron, and Aurora all cast me knowing glances, their eyes sparkling with amusement and understanding. Ace and Damian, on the other hand, look confused.

“You marked her?” Ace asks, disbelief clear in his voice.

“Maybe it’s just a press-on tattoo?” Damian suggests, frowning as he tries to make sense of the situation.

“Or maybe you two are just idiots,” Theron mutters, shaking his head in frustration.

“Do you have any idea what this means?” Sirius says.

“I’m not an idiot,” Onyx snaps, his tone tight and defensive. “I know exactly what I’ve done. Leave us.” His eyes not once left mine.

“What did you do to me?” I repeat.

“Come,” he commands, his voice deeper and sexier than ever.

My eyes trail down his body, drinking in every sculpted muscle and sinew. He is the epitome of hot—sexy and ripped, the living embodiment of “sex on a stick.” Everything about him, from his voice to his presence, is intoxicatingly perfect or rather a hundred times more perfect.

A smirk curls at the corner of his lips as if he can read my thoughts. Before I knew it, his strong arms snaked around my waist, pulling me against him. I hadn’t even realized I moved. The air between us crackled with electricity, and all my worries, all my pain, evaporated. In his embrace, I feel safe, loved, and content. Every wrong he’s done seems forgotten and forgiven in an instant. Maybe he was part witch? The tingling sensation is so intense, I have to bite my inner lip to keep from moaning. Even his scent is overwhelmingly intoxicating, making my head spin. Everything about him is a thousand times more mesmerizing and seductive. Oh God, is this some kind of new date rape drug? It must be some kind of drug.

“I didn’t drug you.”

My eyes widen in shock. How did he hear that? I didn’t say it out loud. Had I? No, I was certain I hadn’t.

“How did you know what I was thinking—,” I gasp in realization, “you can read my mind—you always could.”

“Not always.”

“When?”

“After I had you.”

My cheeks warm instantly. “So you’ve been reading my mind this whole time?”

“I try not to, but you make it so hard.”

“Really? I make it hard for you to not read my mind?”

Even though I want to be furious, downright livid, my voice remains soft and calm as my fingers absentmindedly fiddled with his shirt buttons. I feel him tensing under my touch.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my fingertips. “Your thoughts are so loud sometimes, like a damn megaphone. You’re impossible to ignore.” He reaches up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch sending another wave of tingles down my spine.

I scoff, though my resolve is weakening under his gaze. “Well, maybe if you weren’t so… distracting, my thoughts would be quieter. That’s not what I mean—”

His smirk grows, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Distracting, am I?”

“Don’t get cocky. It’s not a good look on you.”

“Is that so?” he murmurs, leaning in closer. His breath is warm against my skin, and I can feel my heartbeat quicken. “What look do you prefer, then?”

I swallow hard, my fingers still playing with his shirt buttons, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “The one where you’re not invading my thoughts.”

“No promises, Angel.”

“Then I want to read your mind.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I arch an eyebrow at him suspiciously.

That was too easy.

“I’ll teach you.”

“You will?”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He gently closes my gaping mouth with a finger, his touch soft and reassuring.

I swat his hand away playfully. “I’m not shocked. Just… surprised, that’s all.”

He chuckles. “Surprised? You look like a fish out of water.”

I huff, crossing my arms. “Well, excuse me for not expecting you to be so agreeable for once.”

His grin widens. “I’m full of surprises.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that. So, when do we start?”

“Impatient, are we?”

I roll my eyes. “Just eager to level the playing field. Can’t have you knowing all my secrets while I’m in the dark.”

He leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Trust me, love, your secrets are safe with me.”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore the shiver running down my spine. “And yours with me, once I learn this mind-reading trick.”

“We’ll see if you can handle it,” he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh, I can handle it,” I shoot back, a determined glint in my eyes. “Just you wait.”

He laughs, the sound deep and genuine. “I look forward to it.”

His eyes darken, a shade I have never seen before, as he stares at my lips and licks his own. I nearly melt in his arms, teetering on the edge of losing all control. Just as I am about to succumb to the urge to throw myself at him, his gaze flickers to my neck. His eyes narrowed, and in an instant, the heat between us vanished. He releases me and steps back abruptly, as though my touch has scalded him. Then his words slithered into my mind, icy and cruel: “It was a mistake. I don’t even want you.”

Rejection and anger surged through me like wildfire, shattering the trance I had been under. “Get it off!” I demand, my eyes narrowing into slits.

“I can’t,” he gritted out.

“Why not? Isn’t there some kind of vampire/werewolf after-pill or something?” I fling my hands up in exasperation.

“No,” he says bluntly.

“So what, I’m supposed to walk around with this bloody logo on my neck?”

“Look, what happened last night—”

“I know!” I snapped. “It was a mistake and you don’t even want me.” For a split second, I thought I saw him cringe with a flicker of regret in his eyes. “Guess what? I don’t want you either! Get it off.”

His jaw clenched in annoyance, and his eyes narrowed at me. He had the nerve to be mad at me for saying that. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is with you, is it?” I laugh dryly, amused by the absurdity. “One moment you’re pulling me close, the next you’re pushing me away. Make up your mind!”

He turns and starts walking away, his back radiating indifference. “You’re kidding me, right?” I call after him, incredulous.

“Spare me the melodrama.”

“Melodrama?” I echo, my voice rising. “You think this is all some act?” My fists clench at my sides as I stomp after him “You’re such a cold-hearted bastard. You think you’re so much better than everyone else, don’t you?”

“I don’t think. I know. Unlike you, I don’t let emotions cloud my judgment.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I spat. “You act like you’re some kind of god, but you’re just a coward who’s afraid to feel anything.”

He laughs, the sound harsh and condescending. “Afraid? Hardly. I just prefer not to wallow in pointless sentiment. But if you want to continue being a slave to your emotions, be my guest.”

“Not all us have a humanity switch we could turn off whenever we want.”

“Too bad.”

“Call Boss,” Ace says as he darts between Onyx and me nervously.

Onyx arches an eyebrow at me, and I shoot him a look that clearly says, ‘You can suck on garlic; I’m not going anywhere.’ With a long, exasperated sigh, Onyx reluctantly takes the phone from Ace as the reapers gather.

“Well, hello, old friend. I was surprised when I got your call,” a man with a warm Indian accent greeted, his voice tinged with both curiosity and delight.

“It’s been a while,” Onyx replies, his voice uncharacteristically softer, indicating his fondness for this man.

“Getting kidnapped will do that,” the man chuckles. “Come visit and bring the reapers. It’s been half a century since your last visit.”

Half a century? My mind reeled. How old is he? He barely looks a day over twenty-one. Ewww, I shagged a grandpa. I grimace in disgust.

Onyx shoots me a look that says, ‘Seriously?’

I shrug and turn away, choosing to ignore him. Yep, he can definitely read my mind. I need a foil hat. Stat.

“After I deal with these fuckers, I assume by now you’ve heard?” Onyx continues, his tone hardening.

“Everyone’s heard about your victory in North America at the Hollow.”

“Then you also know why I called.”

“The flower you seek is in the mountain of Bellary.”

At the mention of the name, I perk up. The mountain of Bellary was in my hometown, Shirton. My family and I hiked there often, but the entrance was blocked off by a giant boulder.

“But my friend, the entrance is—”

“Blocked off by a giant boulder.” Onyx glances at me.

I’m mentally flipping you off!

I say loudly in my head and he shakes his head at me.

“Someone did their homework,” they sound impressed.

“And it’s enchanted too, isn’t it?” Onyx pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“You know those Fae’s well, my friend. Nothing is ever easy. But there is a way. To move the boulder, you need the blood of a Fae maiden.”

“Easy,” Damian smirks, confidence oozing from his stance.

“Venom of a desert rogue wolf.”

“I’ve got that covered,” Theron declared, his voice steady and sure.

“The wolf must be alive when you extract the venom, or it won’t work.”

“Yay, more fun.” Aurora hugs Theron, who growls approvingly at her excitement.

“A blue siren scale and a witch’s mug.”

“I know a siren,” Ace smirks, sharing a knowing look with Onyx.

I roll my eyes.

“And I know where we can get the mug,” Skylar adds.

“But here’s the fun part. It only works on the first full moon of the fourth month, every four years. And it so happens that’s in two days. Oh, one more thing before I forget. A female can only pick the flower. A human female.” All of them turn to me.

What are they looking at?

Human female? I’m a human female.

Bollocks.

“I appreciate it.”

“Anytime my friend. I hope to see you soon. Oh, I forgot to mention. I got a new selection of exotic beauty for your pure human stash. Would you like me to send them over, or would you prefer to visit and sample them first?” His excitement churns my stomach.

Everyone’s eyes turn to me, awkwardly. Pure human stash? My mind reeled, the words sinking in. Pure. Human. Stash. Why that—I couldn’t bear to stay and hear his answer.

You know that saying about your life flashing before your eyes? This was my second time experiencing it. I felt like a deer caught in headlights, my heart frozen mid-beat. I stare, paralyzed at the silver arrow inches from my face, clenched in Onyx’s hand. His roar, primal and furious, sends birds scattering from the trees, which tremble as violently as my legs.

“Find the shooter and bring him to me alive!” Onyx’s voice drops to a menacing growl, his eyes glowing a menacing red, encircled by a golden band.

In a heartbeat, he scoops me into his arms and whisks me inside the house. He sits me down, his hands frantic, searching for any sign of injury. The shock left me numb. When he found no harm, he wrapped me in a possessive, protective embrace, burying his face in my hair and inhaling my scent. For someone who claimed not to want me, he was terrified of losing me.

“Angel. Princess. Say something,” he pleads, cupping my face and brushing his thumb gently over my pale, ghostly cheeks.

“S-something,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. But he hears it.

He sighs in relief, but the tension in his face quickly turns to frustration as he cradles my cheeks in his large, warm hands. “You scared the hell out of me,” he mutters, his voice sharp. “I can’t afford distractions.”

“Why do you care so much?” I ask, my voice trembling. “You say you don’t want me, yet here you are.”

Onyx’s eyes narrowed, the golden bands around his irises flaring. “Because you’re mine,” he snaps. “Whether I want you or not is irrelevant.”

Tears well up in my eyes as I shake my head. “I don’t understand. One moment you push me away, and the next, you’re holding on like your life depends on it.”

He pulls me closer, his grip almost painful. “It’s complicated,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “You’re a liability, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone else have you or hurt you. You should be grateful,” he says, his tone harsh. “Without me, you’d be dead.”

I pull away. “Grateful? For what? For being your possession?”

He smirks, his eyes glinting cruelly. “Better a possession than a corpse,” he retorts.

“I hate you.”

“Good.”

Ace returns with a severed head in his hand. I scream and bury my face in Onyx’s chest. He immediately wraps his arms around me protectively, growling at Ace. I can feel his satisfaction as I cling to him, the strength of his embrace is both possessive and reassuring.

“Shit. Sorry, man. I forgot she’s human,” Ace mutters.

“I thought I said not to kill him,” Onyx growls, his tone dangerous.

“I didn’t,” Ace replies defensively. “The freak slit his own damn throat. Theron and Aurora caught a scent and went off after it. Skylar is checking the wards; Damian is running surveillance, and Sirius is examining the body.”

They believe the arrow was meant for Ace, not me. I just happened to be in the way. Ace, being the closest thing to Onyx, was the intended target. The hunter had slit his throat the moment Onyx roared. Skylar expanded the wards, and Theron and Aurora lost the scent by a river.

Onyx’s fury was palpable. He summoned all the guards on duty, leaving and returning drenched in blood. The entire night left me mentally and physically exhausted, too drained to scream at the sight of him bloodied again as he headed for the shower.

The bed dipped, and I was pulled into his strong, warm body. I didn’t have the energy to argue. He made me feel safe. For now, I found an odd peace in his arms.

He nuzzles his nose in my hair, mumbling to himself. Sleepily, I can’t make out his incoherent words, but his presence, as infuriating as it is, brings a strange comfort. His possessive grip tightens as he whispers, the warmth of his breath soothing despite the chaos around us.

“Are you always this clingy?” I mutter half asleep.

He chuckles softly, his lips brushing my ear. “Only with you, princess. You seem to bring out the worst in me.”

“Oh, lucky me,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes even though he can’t see it. “Is this your idea of flirting? Because if it is, you need a lot of work.”

Onyx laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that sends shivers down my spine. “Maybe I just like a challenge.”

“A challenge? Is that what you call kidnapping and branding?”

“I thought we were making progress.”

“Progress?” I snort. “If this is your version of progress, I’d hate to see what you consider a setback.”

His hand gently traces patterns on my arm. “You know, you’re cute when you’re angry.”

I try to ignore the way his touch makes my skin tingle. “If this is you trying to charm me, you’re failing miserably.”

“Is that so? Because from where I’m lying, it seems like you’re not trying very hard to escape.”

“Maybe I’m just too tired to bother.”

He pulls me closer, his breath warm against my neck. “Or maybe you’re starting to realize that being in my arms isn’t the worst place to be.”

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, annoyed at how easily he can fluster me. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I mutter.

He laughs softly, his lips brushing against my shoulder. “Too late.”

I didn’t respond, my exhaustion finally catching up to me. As I drift off to sleep, I can’t deny the small part of me that found comfort in his words, no matter how infuriating he was.

I wake up alone and surprisingly disappointed. I don’t know what I was expecting. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up, disoriented.

“Finally!” Aurora’s overly cheerful voice jolts me awake.

“Bloody hell! Trying to give me a heart attack?” I yelp, clutching my chest.

“Sorry. I just wanted to be the first to welcome you to the reapers—”

“Hold on there a sec,” I interrupt, snickering nervously.

Aurora’s cheerful expression falters, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Skylar remains stoic, her gaze unreadable.

“I’m not part of this,” I insist, gesturing wildly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know any of you, and I definitely don’t plan on staying. I have a life. A family. School. This,” I wave my hand in a circular motion, “is all temporary. I can’t stay here. Especially not with him.” My heart aches at the thought of leaving Onyx, but I push it aside.

Aurora and Skylar exchange a knowing look, their silent communication only heightening my anxiety. “What are you guys not telling me?”

“That’s not exactly how a mate bond works,” Skylar says, her voice calm but firm.

“The bond is the most wonderful thing in the world,” Aurora adds, her eyes dreamy. “It can also be one of the most dreadful things.”

I frown, feeling a chill run down my spine. “What do you mean?”

Aurora sighs, her expression turning serious. “A mate bond is a connection that transcends everything—time, distance, even death. It’s a bond of the soul. When you’re bound to someone, they become a part of you in ways you can’t imagine.”

Skylar nods, her eyes unwavering. “You can’t just walk away from a mate bond. It’s not like a regular relationship. It’s intense, consuming. You’ll feel drawn to him, even if you try to fight it.”

I shake my head, panic rising in my chest. “But I have a life outside of this! I didn’t ask for this bond.”

Aurora’s gaze softens with sympathy. “None of us do. It just happens. And when it does, it changes everything. Your heart, your mind, your very being.”

I feel tears prick at my eyes, the weight of their words crashing down on me. “So, what? I’m just supposed to accept this? Accept him?”

“It’s about understanding that this bond is a part of you now. You can resist, but it will only cause more pain.” Skylar says.

Aurora smiles gently. “And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find that being with the prince isn’t as terrible as you think. The bond chose you for a reason.”

I look between them, feeling a mix of anger, fear, and confusion. “And what if I don’t want this?”

Skylar sighs. “Then you’ll have to live with the consequences of rejecting a bond that’s meant to be. But know this—the bond will not let go easily.”

I swallow hard, the reality of their words settling in. The bond is a part of me now, whether I like it or not. And as much as I want to deny it, a small part of me was curious about where this path might lead.

In the past twenty-four hours, I had gone from hating Onyx to sleeping with him, to being marked, to nearly dying, and now this. Joining the reapers? I was human. I mentally sigh, feeling overwhelmed. Everything was happening too fast.

“I need a drink,” I groan, slumping in defeat.

There is no way I am escaping them, especially with Skylar’s penetrating gaze fixed on me.

“I know just the place,” Aurora says, her grin devilish.

This looked like trouble, but I have a feeling I might enjoy it.

---

Chapter 43: Dancing on Thin Ice.

We end up cracking open a rather posh bottle of champagne from Onyx’s private collection. Skylar warns Aurora that Onyx would have her hands for it. Aurora frowns and reluctantly agrees, but then a mischievous glint sparkles in her eyes. That’s how I ended up holding the bottle.

“He won’t hurt you,” she assures me, and like a fool, I believed her.

I threatened that if I lost my hands, she’d lose hers too. Several bottles later, we found ourselves singing and skinny-dipping. I had completely forgotten about the guards until I noticed them respectfully turning their backs when they saw the mark on my neck. Whether out of respect or fear, I couldn’t tell. Aurora and Skylar are like goddesses, their bodies flawless. I was thankful to have a Brazilian wax before all this, or I’d have been well… let’s not go there.

With a few drinks, Skylar seems more approachable, less intimidating than usual. She isn’t all that bad. Aurora and I giggled uncontrollably, and even Skylar let out the occasional laugh at our antics. For once, I felt free and happy, the worries and the infuriating, temperamental knob who kidnapped me was all but forgotten. Aurora fancies a dance, and since her iPhone isn’t doing the trick, we decide to hit the club. Skylar was reluctant at first, but we dragged her along anyway. Aurora’s room mirrored Onyx’s, albeit smaller, reflecting her personality perfectly. Lilac walls adorned with exquisite oil paintings of forests, flowers, and even some nudes that made me blush. Photos of her and Theron, as well as antique crossbows, daggers, and swords, hang on the walls. The kitchen is pristine, with brand-new, never-used stainless steel appliances and a marble countertop. But her closet, oh, her closet was even bigger than Onyx’s, filled with every fashionable item a girl could dream of. She was a true fashionista and I was in love with her shoe rack. That thing was as big as my dorm room.

Skylar wasn’t one for dressing up, and we practically bullied her into an outfit. She was too drunk to protest effectively and eventually gave in. Aurora slips into a multicoloured mini sequin dress that hugs her hourglass figure beautifully. Skylar dons a black leather backless mini dress, showing off her curves and accentuating her long, gorgeous legs. I wore a long-sleeve leopard print backless lace-up mini dress. It was quite revealing and far from my usual attire, but I’m too wasted to care. Our hair was down, and we tottered on high heels. Before we left, Aurora worked her magic and concealed my mark so well that it is practically invisible. She did a fantastic job. We call a cab and Skylar compelled the driver to forget he’d ever picked us up and to erase any memory of the mansion’s location, leaving him with a very generous tip.

As soon as I see the line outside the club, I frown. “We’ll never get in,” I whine.

“Who says we’re joining the line?” Aurora giggles, hooking our arms together.

We burst out laughing and swayed to the front of the line. I’m too high on life to care about the jealous glares from women and the lustful stares from the blokes. The bouncer unhooked the rope the moment we reached the front, earning us even nastier looks. Inside, the club was packed, wall-to-wall with electrifying colours and glow sticks everywhere. The air is thick with the smell of liquor and smoke, pulsating with the beat of the music.

“Is this a human club?” I shout.

Skylar leans in and says, “No need to shout. We can hear you just fine.”

Right, super hearing. I giggle at my own silliness.

“It’s a supernatural club with humans,” Aurora explains, leading us to the bar. “But humans don’t remember much after they leave.” She spoke something to the bartender that I couldn’t hear over the noise. There is no need for her to shout; he is clearly not human.

The bartender grins wickedly, “Coming right up,” he says with a wink in my direction.

He is a sight to behold, wearing tight leather trousers and a red tie leaving his toned chest on full display. Not as chiselled as Onyx’s, though.

“Stop eyeing him up,” Aurora nudges me, giggling.

“Can you blame me?” I feel my cheeks warm.

“Nope,” Skylar giggles as well.

Aurora rolls her eyes at us playfully. The bar is packed, and I feel a pang of guilt for cutting in front of all those people waiting for their drinks. But they took one look at Aurora and Skylar and didn’t dare complain.

“Alright, ladies, bottoms up!” Aurora cheers.

We each grab three shots and down them quickly. The fiery liquid burns down my throat, making me feel even more alive. The music throbs in my veins, and the crowd moves like one living entity, drawing us into its pulsating heart. The energy is intoxicating. Aurora, Sklar, and I dance with abandon, our bodies swaying to the rhythm. I’m not thinking about you know who or my troubles. I’m just living in the moment, surrounded by laughter, music, and the magic of the night. We are three goddesses, ruling the night, untouchable and free. I knew this night would be one to remember, even if the humans around us wouldn’t.

We dance and drink as if it is our last night on Earth. I know I’ll be suffering a killer hangover tomorrow, but at this moment, I feel alive, happy, and utterly carefree, as if I can shout it from a mountaintop. The music moves me like a puppet on strings, the beat pulsating through my body. It is like a drug, lifting me higher and higher until my mind buzzes with unadulterated joy. The night is young, my limbs brimming with energy. I can dance all night and then some. Covered in beads of sweat—some mine, some not—I know tomorrow will bring hell, but tonight the alcohol flows like an IV drip, and I dance my life away with Aurora and Skylar.

We sway our hips, moving to the deafening beat like every other drunken idiot in there. So far, only one bloke has tried to dance with me. When he got too handsy, Aurora stepped in. Aurora went off to get us more drinks, and Skylar disappeared to the loo, leaving me dancing alone. The whole time, I feel eyes on me but ignore it until I feel two hands on my hips and a cold body behind me. I begin grinding back, moving to the beat with him. His body is big, hard, and firm. It feels wrong, but I dismiss the feeling and let the music take over. I spin around to get a better look at my dance partner. For a moment, I thought it was Onyx. He looks like him, except for his eyes, and he doesn’t feel like him. I shake my head, thinking I was way too drunk.

“What are you?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Very forward and brave of you, little one,” he smirks, amused.

“That’s not an answer,” I roll my eyes playfully.

He elongates his pointy fangs, and I giggle. “Vampire.”

He looks taken aback for a second as if expecting me to run for the hills. “Good girl. Now tell me, why is a human playing with my brother’s reapers?”

“Brother?” It takes me a moment to figure it out. “You’re Onyx’s brother?”

“Don’t look so shocked,” he teases. “Most people say we look alike. But I assure you,” he spins me out and back into his arms, making me giggle, “I am nothing like my brother.”

“Good to know,” I giggle.

“He lets you call him Onyx?”

“He doesn’t let me do anything. I do as I please,” I say, rolling my hips.

“I see,” he growls approvingly

He pulls me closer, his grip firm, yet gentle. “So, you do as you please, eh? Sounds like you have quite the influence on my brother.”

I shrug, still swaying to the music. In my drunken haze, I miss the disdain in his voice when he says, brother. “Maybe. Or maybe he just knows better than to try and control me.”

He chuckles, the sound low and almost predatory. “Interesting. So, tell me, how did you end up with Onyx and his lot?”

I giggle, the alcohol making my thoughts fuzzy. “Long story. Involves a bit of drama, a lot of shouting, and shooting, and kidnapping.”

His eyes narrow slightly, though his smile remains. “Kidnapping, you say? That doesn’t sound like my brother. He’s usually more... persuasive.”

I roll my eyes. “Persuasive? That’s one way to put it. But yeah, he dragged me into this mess. Tonight’s too much fun to worry about it.”

His gaze sharpens, though his tone remains casual. “And what about tomorrow? When the fun’s over, what happens then?”

I frown, trying to focus through the haze. “Tomorrow? Who knows? Cross that bridge when we get there, I suppose.”

He spins me around again, his eyes never leaving mine. “You’re quite the enigma, aren’t you? Onyx always did have a taste for the unusual.”

“Unusual? Is that what I am to him?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Perhaps,” he says, his voice softer, almost contemplative. “Or maybe you’re something more. Something valuable.”

“Valuable? I’m not some trinket,” I shoot back, a sudden wave of irritation cutting through my drunken haze.

Something was off here.

“No, you’re not,” he agrees, his tone soothing. “But you’re certainly special. And special things have a way of attracting attention.”

I squint at him, trying to read his expression. “Why do I get the feeling you’re fishing for something?”

He smiles a slow, lazy smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just curious, that’s all. My brother’s affairs intrigue me.”

“Well, I’m not some piece of gossip,” I say, pulling away slightly. “If you want to know something, ask him yourself.”

He nods, conceding. “Fair enough. I don’t mean to pry.” His grip tightens on my hips, moving in sync with me. “Let’s just dance,” he murmurs, but before I can respond, he is ripped away from me.

Everything is happening so fast, and I’m too drunk to fully comprehend. There are screams and fists flying, a chaotic blur. Then I feel someone grab me, dragging me out of the club and into a dark alleyway. He shoves me against the wall, and I look up to see Onyx. His eyes are a storm of furious azure blue, speckled with red and gold. His nostrils flared, fangs protruding. If I wasn’t so drunk, I might have been terrified. Instead, I thought he looked scary hot.

“Did you have fun?” His voice is calm, but each word is laced with a chilling, sinister edge. I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe.

I am scared now.

“What happened? Did my brother get your tongue?” He spat ‘brother’ with such bitterness that it almost stings.

He inhales deeply, releasing a growl that makes my knees tremble uncontrollably. My bottom lip quivers in fear as his face reddens, a dangerous aura radiating from him.

“C-calm down—”

He growls in response and slams his fist into the wall, inches from my head. I squeal, instinctively raising my arms to shield my face as he leaves a fist-like hole in the brick wall. “How the fuck do you expect me to calm down when you reek of another man?” He chuckles humorlessly; his rage is barely contained. “My brother.”

I lower my arms slowly, my voice trembling. “W-we were just dancing.”

I can’t understand why he is so enraged. It’s as if his anger is seeping into me, fueling my own confusion. He didn’t want me and treated me like a pawn, but here he is, acting as if I’m the one who wronged him.

“Dancing?” His voice is flat, his eyes cold. He scares me sober if that was even possible. I watch him with trepidation as he steps closer, pinning my hands above my head against the cold brick wall.

“Is that what you call it?” His voice is dangerously low. “Rolling your hips on him like some trained whore.” His other hand digs into my hip with a grip so tight it is almost painful.

The insult hit me hard. Just because a girl knows how to enjoy herself and move her body doesn’t mean she’s a whore. I am furious. “You think that just because I dance, I’m a whore? Piss off!” My voice cracks with indignation.

His eyes flare with anger, but I stand my ground, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I can muster. His grip on my hip doesn’t loosen, and the tension between us crackles like electricity.

“You think you can shake your ass on my brother without consequence?” His voice is a low growl, filled with venom. “You’re playing with fire, and you don’t even know it.”

“I’m not your property,” I shoot back, struggling against his hold. “You don’t get to dictate who I dance with or what I do.” He is acting like a bloody lunatic, a jealous, bloody lunatic.

His eyes narrow, and all I see is red and gold. He is pissed. I cringe remembering he can read my mind. Bloody hell. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You’re playing a game you don’t understand. My brother is not someone you should toy with.”

“I’m not toying with anyone!” I retort. “I was just dancing. If you’re so insecure about your brother, that’s your problem, not mine.”

He leans in closer, his breath hot against my face. “Insecure? That’s not the word I’d use. You see, my brother’s little games can have consequences far beyond what you’re prepared to handle. You might think it’s all fun and games, but in my world, actions come with prices.” His lips curl into a dangerous smirk. “You think you’re just dancing with him? How quaint. But let me give you a little advice, when you play with fire, it’s not just the flames that can burn you. Sometimes, it’s the smoke that chokes you.” He gives me a once over and his jaw ticks. “And no less dress like this. Did you enjoy his touch?” His voice is a sinister purr, and his fingers trace a trail up my inner thigh with a chilling, electrifying caress. Each stroke sends shivers through me, making my breath hitch. No, no, no. Don’t let him get to you. I stand there, trembling, as he looms over me, his anger crackling in the air like a storm about to break. “Did he make you feel good?”

I feel my resolve wavering, but I force myself to answer. “Yes, he did. He has the magic touch.” My mind screams at me to stop, knowing fully well that I am playing with fire and it would end badly for me.

His grip tightens painfully, and I bite back a whimper, holding his gaze with a stubborn defiance. His nostrils flare, and his lips press into a hard line. I wince inwardly, regretting my words but refusing to take them back. I refuse to back down. His lips curl into a menacing smirk, and my heart drops. Maybe I should reconsider. His fangs extend, sharp and threatening. Okay, definitely reconsidering.

He brushes his thumb over my mark, smudging the concealer with a brutal growl. If I thought he was angry before, it was nothing compared to the fury now blazing in his eyes. He looks like a predator ready to strike, his anger so palpable it is radiating off him in waves.

“Onyx—” My plea is cut short as his fangs sink into my neck.

---

Chapter 44: The Cruel Tease.

The sharp pain is quickly eclipsed by an unexpected surge of pleasure that courses through me. I gasp, a shiver running down my spine as his mouth works on my skin. A moan escapes my lips, filled with a mix of desire and confusion. Heat pools in my core, a response I can’t deny no matter how much I want to. He lifts me against the wall. My dress has hiked up around my hips, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. I feel his hard, thick cock press into my stomach as he slides my panties to the side and shoves two fingers into me.

“Tell me,” he whispers aggressively in my ear as he pumps his fingers in and out of my pussy, which was wetter than I had thought possible. “Are you this wet for me or him?”

You. Only you. I bite my lip, struggling not to give him the response he wants. “Him.” Lacking any sort of self-preservation.

Yet somehow, as scared as I am, I’m weirdly excited.

He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Liar,” he hisses, thrusting his fingers deeper, making me cry out. “You’re mine. Your body knows it, even if you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge it.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, my body betraying me with every pulse of pleasure that radiates from his touch. “I-I don’t belong to anyone,” I gasp, trying to cling to some semblance of defiance.

“Oh, but you do,” he murmurs, his lips grazing my ear. “You belong to me. And I’m going to prove it.”

He withdraws his fingers suddenly, and I whimper at the loss, only to gasp again as he replaces them with the tip of his cock. My breath hitches, my heart pounding in my chest as he begins to push inside me, stretching me with a slow, deliberate motion.

“You feel that?” he growls, his voice thick with desire. “That’s me claiming what’s mine.”

I can barely form a coherent thought, the pleasure and fear swirling together into a heady mix that leaves me breathless. “Onyx...” I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders as he fills me completely. The mark on my neck singing his praise. It was like nothing I ever felt.

This shouldn’t feel this good. Nothing should feel this good.

He thrusts into me hard and deep, each movement sending waves of desire crashing through me. “Say it,” he demands, his lips brushing against my neck. “Say you’re mine.”

I clench my jaw, trying to hold onto some defiance, but the sensation of him inside me, dominating me, makes it hard. “Never,” I spat, my breath hitching with each powerful thrust.

His eyes darken, and with a primal growl, he slams into me harder, faster, the force of his movements making me see stars. “You will,” he hisses, his voice a mix of fury and lust.

I can’t hold back the moans that escape my lips, each one louder than the last. My body betrays me, responding to his every touch, every thrust. The alleyway around us disappears, leaving only the two of us in a whirlwind of passion and anger. His fangs sink into my neck, the sharp pain quickly giving way to a wave of pleasure that makes my toes curl. I cry out, the sensation overwhelming, as he feeds on me and continues to thrust into me at a relentless pace. I’m almost there before the bastard slows his pace making me want to murder him. I bite back a plea. I will not beg.

Yeah, you will.

He growls against my skin. “Go on, say it,” he demands, his voice thick with need as I tremble in his arms.

The knob knows exactly what he is doing to me. I shake my head, biting my lip so hard I taste blood. He lets out a low growl, brushing his fingers across my lip, unfastening my teeth from the tender flesh. Leaning in, he licks the blood from my lip. I nearly come from that alone.

Was that hot or is it just me?

“You don’t hurt yourself,” he murmurs, his voice a dark, possessive whisper. “That’s my job.”

“Go to hell,” I spat, defiance burning in my eyes even as my body betrays me in every sense of the word.

“Oh, I will,” he replies with a wicked grin, “but I’m taking you with me.”

With a fierce growl, he slams into me harder, each thrust harder and more demanding than the last. His hands roam over my body, claiming every inch of me with a possessive touch that leaves me breathless. He yanks my breast out and bites my hard, aching nipple. I moan, my nails digging into his back, unable to control the sounds of pleasure that escape my lips.

“You like this, don’t you?” he hisses, his voice dripping with a mix of praise and disdain. “You love being fucked like the little slut you are.”

His words are both stinging and arousing in ways I can’t comprehend. “No,” I whisper, even as my body tightens around him.

He chuckles darkly. He slaps my breast.

I gasp. Son of a bitch.

“Liar. Your body doesn’t lie, princess. It knows who it belongs to.”

His hand slides down to my clit, rubbing in tight circles that has me gasping and moaning louder. “Say it,” he growls, his voice a dangerous edge. “Say you’re mine.”

“I...I can’t,” I stammer, my resolve weakening with each powerful thrust.

“Yes, you can,” he insists, his movements relentless, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. And just as I think I’m about to get what I want he stops. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

I clench my teeth, trying to hold on, but the pleasure is too overwhelming, the intensity too much to bear. “You’re a monster.” I buck my hips trying to force him to move but he holds me in place.

“The same monster with his cock buried in your tight, perfect cunt,” he growls. “You were made for me, weren’t you? This slutty little cunt just begging to be filled.” He moves in and out, taking long, deliberate strokes as he circles my clit. I can’t take it any longer. “You want to cum angel, all you have to do is say it.” He adds a bit more pressure to my clit and I buck against him moaning.

I hate myself, but I hate him more.

No, you don’t.

“Alright!” I scream. “Just make me cum and I’ll say it.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he taunts, slamming his cock hard into me, causing me to cry out from both the pain and pleasure. “Now we both know that’s not how this works.”

I whimper, the mix of sensations overwhelming me. His fingers continue their relentless assault on my clit, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge, and then he stops.

“Bloody hell,” I cry. “You are truly a monster.”

He chuckles a smug and arrogant sound. “Yet here you are, dripping wet and begging for more. You love it, don’t you? This tight little cunt can’t get enough of me.” He leans in. “Admit it. You crave my cock, you need it.”

“Piss off.” I bite my lip, trying to resist, but the desire is too strong.

His fingers resume their torment on my clit as his pace quickens, each movement deliberate and forceful, driving me wild with need.

“Please,” I gasp, my voice cracking. He won. “Please, just let me cum.”

“Then say it,” he growls, his voice rough with need.

I clench my teeth, trying to resist, but the pleasure is too intense, too consuming. “I’m yours,” I finally cry out, my body trembling.

I hate myself, yet it feels right. Which makes no sense. I’m bonkers.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his tone both possessive and approving. His thrusts become more forceful, his fingers working me over until I’m on the brink of ecstasy. His lips crash into mine, muffling my loud, lustful moans as he pounds into me harder and faster.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

I am sure everyone around can hear and see us, but at this moment, I don’t care. These people are strangers and my reasoning is as reckless as my actions.

Bloody hell.

My body burns with desire, and our kiss grows hungrier and sloppier. I dig my fingers into his back as he pumps in and out of me faster, my walls tensing, the fire in my stomach growing.

I moan louder, tightening my grip on him as the familiar sweet spasm builds up inside me. Just as I am about to tip over the edge for the umpteenth time, he stops moving, breaking our kiss with a smug look on his face.

He wouldn’t. I am ready to kill him.

“We wouldn’t want you to forget his magical touch now, would we?” he teases, gently pulling out of me.

My body screams in frustration, every nerve alight with unfulfilled desire. I glare at him, my breath ragged. “You bastard,” I spat, my voice a mix of anger and desperation. “I said it!”

“That you did,” he replies smugly, making me want to claw that arrogant smirk right off his face.

As soon as he sits me down, my legs wobble beneath me, the loss of his touch almost sending me crashing to the floor. My body still hums, burning with unfulfilled desire, and the sting of rejection hits me like a brick to the face. I yank my dress back down, glaring at him with enough venom to kill a lesser man. The pulsing ache of the mark he left on my neck isn’t doing me any bloody favours either. I can still feel the raw, electric tension throbbing through me, and the bastard has the audacity to take his sweet time buckling his trousers, stepping back with that damn smug grin on his lips.

“Are you proud of yourself?” I spat, the words seething out of me. “Y-you, you—”

“You what?” He taunts, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming and annoying. “Going to call me names again? Or maybe you’re ready for round two?”

Oh, how I want to punch that look off his stupid hot face. No, not hot. Ugly face! Who am I kidding? He has the kind of face every girl dreams of sitting on. How dare he do this?

“Oh, I’m so proud of myself,” he adds smugly.

His presence is suffocating, but I’m not about to let him know how much it affects me.

I cross my arms and roll my eyes, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “You must be so proud,” I mock, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s truly impressive. Should I clap? Give you a medal, perhaps? World’s biggest tosser award?”

His smirk widened. “I am happy to... finish the job if you ask nicely.”

I scoff, taking a deliberate step back, waving my hand in mock dismissal. “Oh please, don’t flatter yourself. I’m fine, really. It was just... meh. You’re like the takeaway I didn’t order but got stuck with anyway. Not exactly what I wanted, but I guess it’ll do in a pinch.” I shoot him a pointed look. “And for the record, I’ve had better... much better.”

His eyes flicker, but I keep going, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me rattled. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m still bloody here. You’re like that mediocre movie everyone hypes up, and when I finally watch it, I’m left wondering what all the fuss was about.” I shrug with a little too much nonchalance. “A total letdown.”

His grin falters for a split second, and I revel in the tiny victory.

“You can keep pretending all you want, but we both know you’ll be back for more.”

I meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “Back for more?” I snort. “If I ever do come back, it’ll only be because I forgot something. Like my dignity. Or my patience.” I flick my wrist dismissively again. “Don’t worry, though. I’m sure there’s some poor soul out there who’ll be thrilled with your... half-efforts.”

“Oh, but you loved every second of it. So much that you were begging for it.”

My cheeks flushed with both anger and embarrassment. “Go play in traffic,” I spat.

“Aww. Is someone upset because she didn’t get to cum?” He teases with a fake pout. I let out a squeal of frustration, pounding his chest, as he laughs at me.

I forgot how nice his laugh was. Wait, no. I hate him and his baffoon laugh. His eyes darken, and he licks his lips. My eyes follow the slow, sensual movement of the tip of his tongue.

“Does that bad little pussy want to feel my tongue this time?”

I feel my pussy clench. “Why bother? It’s not like you’re going to let me cum.”

A grin appears on his lips. “Be a good girl and I’ll let you.”

“I don’t need you to let me do anything, mate. This is the twenty-first century; a girl can satisfy herself.” I lean in a little closer to his ear, feeling bolder. Thank you, tequila! His body tenses. “But if you be a good boy... maybe I’ll let you watch.” I purr seductively.

A low growl vibrates in his throat. I can’t help the triumphant smirk on my face as I watch his eyes darken lustfully. I straighten my spine and turn to leave when he pulls me back into him. The second our bodies connect, those familiar tingles shoot up my spine and the mark on my neck rejoices.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His warm breath fans the side of my neck.

I bite my lip, feeling my anger melt away under his fiery touch. His scent makes me dizzy, and with his arms firmly around my midsection, I love and hate the way he makes my body feel.

“Not here, obviously.”

“You’re not going anywhere smelling like that.”

“Smelling like what?” I huff out before I can process what he means.

“Like you just got fucked. At least you smell better than before.”

I shove his arm off me and spin around to tell him to go suck on drywall, but suddenly felt light-headed. His hands instantly shoot out and grab my hips, steadying me. He raises my head, staring into my eyes. I didn’t feel that drunk. Maybe it was an after-effect?

He clenches his jaw. “I took a little too much blood from you. We need to get you fed before you pass out.”

I ignore what he says and ask, “What are you doing here anyway?”

“The better question is what are you doing here?”

I glare at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was out with friends. You know, having a life.”

His grip on my hips tightens with a tick in his jaw. “A life that involves dancing with my brother?”

I scoff, trying to push him away, but he holds firm. “I didn’t know he was your brother. And even if I did, it’s none of your concern who I dance with.”

His eyes darken. “Everything about you is my concern, Avaluna. You belong to me.”

I shiver a mix of anger and desire coursing through me. “I belong to no one. Least of all you.”

“Keep telling yourself that, but we both know the truth.”

Suddenly, he pulls back from me and turns to face the club entrance just as his brother bursts out, flanked by the reapers and a few other men.

“Really, Onyx?” his brother sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. “Is this how you treat family?”

Onyx stares at him with a look of disdain, as if he was beneath his notice. This only seems to enrage his brother further. He sniffs the air as he gets closer, his eyes narrowing when they land on me. “A little midnight snack?” His gaze travels down my body and back up to meet my eyes. “Looks like you almost sucked her dry. Having control problems, brother?”

The innuendo isn’t lost on me, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. Onyx’s lips tug into a faint smirk, sharing the same thought. Aurora and Skylar look worried, while Ace and Sirius seem poised to attack if his brother makes a wrong move.

“I am,” Onyx says, his voice smooth and lethal. “You wouldn’t want me to prove that to you now, would you, Octavius?”

Octavius’ lips thinned, his eyes blazing with anger. Just as he is about to retort, his gaze shifts to my neck. “What is that on her neck? Why is it covered in makeup?” His tone a mix of surprise, irritation, and confusion.

“Good question,” Onyx replies, arching a brow at me, his annoyance evident in the tight set of his jaw.

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of both their gazes on me. “It’s, um, nothing?” My voice wavering, sounding more like a question than a statement.

Bollocks. I had nothing. I shrug, giving Onyx a nervous smile, hoping he wouldn’t murder me and dump my body in the garbage bin beside us.

He sighs, shaking his head. With a firm grip on my hip, he begins leading us out of the alleyway. But Octavius sidesteps into our path, his presence radiating a deadly power.

“I asked you a question, brother,” Octavius snarls.

“And I choose not to answer, brother,” Onyx shoots back, his voice dangerously calm. “Get the fuck out of my way, or I’ll remove you piece by piece.”

The words were delivered with such chilling calmness that a shiver ran down my spine. This is not a side of Onyx I had seen before, and it terrifies me.

Octavius’s eyes flicker with fury. “You’re protecting her?”

“That’s none of your business. So are you going to move or do I have to make you?”

Sometimes, I forget just who Onyx is. His voice, so dominant and filled with an unsettling power, makes me shiver and clench with a mixture of fear and arousal. Bloody hell, I was both terrified and turned on. Octavius isn’t as clueless as he seemed; he knew Onyx’s threat was genuine and that he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through.

As Onyx and I moved to leave, Octavius stepped aside, his eyes burning with a murderous intensity. “See you soon, baby girl,” he purrs, his wink making my skin crawl.

Onyx’s body tenses beside me, his expression cold and unyielding. “Not if you want to live,” Onyx says matter-of-factly as he winks cheekly at his brother.

It is obvious there’s no love lost between them.

---

Chapter: 45: The Pull and the Push.

Onyx took us to this quaint little café. The waitress finally returns, setting a steaming plate of mashed potatoes drenched in rich gravy and succulent roast beef in front of me. Or what I think is roast beef. She said something in Romanian batting her lashes and licking her lips.

Thirsty much.

The aroma of the food has my belly grumbling. Theron, Onyx, and Sirius sit across from us looking stoic and pissed. Ace and Damian pull two chairs and position themselves at opposite ends of the table.

“Eat,” Onyx commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I didn’t feel hungry anymore, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach, but the last thing I want is to make him any madder than he already is.

Midway through my meal, he broke the silence, his voice a low, menacing rumble. “Which one of you is going to explain what the fuck happened tonight?”

Sirius follows, his tone equally chilling. “And why did you three leave the house without telling any of us where you were going?”

Theron’s voice, though steady, was laced with barely restrained fury. “And drunk, dressed like that,” he spat, his jaw clenched so tight it looks like he might crack his molars.

Their calm, deadly tones make us flinch.

Ace, grins. “Not that you girls don’t look hot as hell.”

Damian nods in agreement, a smile playing on his lips.

“Leave,” Onyx growls, his voice a dark threat.

“Now,” Sirius hisses, his eyes flashing with anger.

“Both of you,” Theron adds through gritted teeth, his stare piercing.

Ace frowns, the playful glint in his eyes dimming. Damian raises his hands in surrender, backing away from the intensity of their wrath.

“We wanted to dance,” Aurora murmurs, her eyes fixed on her lap, fingers fidgeting nervously.

“Was that decision inspired by your little performance at the pool?!” Onyx retorts sharply.

“Having all those guards lusting after you?!” Sirius hisses, his tone dripping with disdain.

“And then leaving without a guard in a cab!” Theron concluded, his voice rising in exasperation.

“Why does it matter? It’s our bodies,” I grumble, forcing down another bite of food.

Their laughter was cold and humourless. Skylar and Aurora visibly stiffen.

“Is that what you two think as well?” Theron asks, his gaze shifting to them.

“Answer him!” Sirius’s voice booms, making us jump.

“It’s not the first time we’ve done it,” Skylar replies, her defiance tempered by the tremor in her voice.

“What’s the big deal anyway,” Aurora adds softly, her nervousness palpable.

“The big deal is she’s human, and you two should have known better!” Onyx shoots back.

“She’s your princess, and you put her life and your own at risk!” Sirius follows, his eyes blazing with fury.

I wanted to argue that I wasn’t their princess, but the fierce look in Onyx’s eyes made the words die in my throat.

“If we hadn’t shown up and Octavius had found that mark on her neck that you so diligently covered up, what do you think he would have done to her, huh?” Theron’s voice was louder now, his frustration evident.

A growl rumbles from Onyx’s chest, making us flinch. They were angrier than a wet cat in a doghouse.

“We just wanted to have some fun,” I mutter, staring down at my mashed potatoes, too afraid to meet his gaze.

“Fun?” Onyx’s voice is too calm.

“We didn’t mean for things to get out of hand,” Aurora whispers.

Sirius leans forward, his intensity matching Onyx’s. “Intentions mean nothing when lives are at stake. Octavius is ruthless. Do you know what would have happened if he had discovered that mark?”

Skylar and Aurora nervously exchange glances.

“We thought we were being careful,” Skylar says, her voice barely audible.

Sirius’s eyes soften slightly as he looks at his beloved but his words are no less severe. “We can’t afford mistakes like this. Your safety, all of our safety, depends on it.”

“We’re sorry,” Aurora says. “We didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem,” Onyx interrupted, his tone harsh. “You didn’t think. You acted recklessly.”

Without another word, Sirius and Theron rise abruptly from the booth and extend their hands to their beloveds. Skylar and Aurora yelp as they are pulled into their arms and vanish. Only Onyx and I remained.

“Finish,” he orders, his tone brooking no argument.

“I-I’m full,” I stammer, my appetite long gone.

Onyx took my fork and took a bite, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he stands up, extending his hand. “Let’s go,” he commands.

Reluctantly, I place my hand in his, and he leads me to his sleek black Lamborghini.

Once inside, he hands me a small box of tissues. “Clean that shit off your neck,” he orders. I glare at him, clutching the box tightly. “You do it, or I will.”

Without a word, he starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot. The moment we hit the road, I roll down the window and fling the box out, feeling a fleeting surge of triumph. Ha, eat dirt, you fanger! My victory was short-lived when Onyx slammed on the brakes, sending me hurling towards the dashboard. In a flash, he catches me, pulling me onto his lap.

Straddling him, I scream to be let go, thrashing in his grip. He seizes my wrists, pinning them behind my back, and grabbing a fistful of my hair.

“Let me go, you bastard!” I spat back, struggling against his hold.

“So stubborn and don’t listen,” he snarls, tightening his grip.

“Because I don’t take orders from you,” I shoot back defiantly, glaring at him. “You’re not in control of me!”

“And never learn.” He pulls my hair tighter, forcing my head back.

“Piss off.”

His eyes lock onto mine, that wicked gleam lighting up as if he was ready to devour me whole. Before I even knew it, his fangs sank into my neck, and what should’ve been a scream came out as something closer to a moan – a proper mix of pleasure and pain that hit me harder than I’d like to admit.

My body had a mind of its own, grinding down on him as I felt him getting harder under me. It feels like fireworks under my skin.

His bite knocked the fight right out of me. My mind went to mush, everything scrambled, and it was just him – his touch, his scent, bloody everywhere like he was all I’d ever known. In that moment, nothing else matters. He properly claimed every bit of me, and I was done for, lost in the sheer weight of him, giving in without a second thought.

His bite sank deeper, and he let out this groan that was downright filthy – sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. His grip tightened on me, and once again I was done for. My breathing went all ragged, and then… yeah, that was it. I came undone right there, shuddering like I’d lost every ounce of control. My body convulsed, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I came, crying out his name. Every nerve was alight, every sense overwhelmed, and all I can think of is him. He withdraws his fangs, using his sleeve to wipe away the makeup smudged on my neck as I remain on his lap, still trembling from the intensity. There is something different about him something I couldn’t quite put my fingers on.

He holds me close for a moment until I can gather myself and then something flashes across his face, his jaw tightens and he commands, “Get off.”

The sharpness in his voice pierces through the haze of vampire voodoo-induced lust that had clouded my mind. Did I really just bloody do that? I glare at him with all the venom I can summon.

He arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You should be grateful.”

Fury surges through me. “Grateful?!”

In response, he thrusts his hips upward, pressing me harder against him so I can feel how hard he is. My cheeks flush with heat, a mix of embarrassment and anger. Is dry humping even a thing anymore?

“I should’ve bent you over the hood of the car,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, “and fuck that greedy little cunt of yours until you can’t walk straight. But something tells me you’d enjoy that far too much.”

I try to hide the shiver that runs down my spine at his words, but the undeniable heat pooling between my legs is harder to hide as he inhales deeply with a smug knowing look on his stupid face.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Now get off me,” he whispers.

He is still pissed that was for sure.

I give him one last glare before getting off his lap. I can’t believe I find him attractive or let him touch me.

“Put your seatbelt on.” I open my mouth to rebut but he quickly adds, “Say one more fuckin’ word and I’ll do worse than remark you,” he threatens.

“You what?!” I screech, twisting the rearview mirror towards me. I gasp at the sight. The mark was redder and deeper, the circles more vivid. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!”

“What’s the bloody hell is wrong with me?” He mimics my accent with a sneer. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! How dare you hide my mark?! Then dance like some tart with that piece-of-shit brother of mine!” His voice rose, full of fury.

Oh, we’re back to this again, are we?

I let out a bitter laugh. “Why do you care if I cover up your mistake, huh?” I spat the word ‘mistake’ with venom. “You said it yourself, you don’t want me!” Did he flinch? It was so quick, I wondered if my eyes were playing tricks on me. I press on. “Who I dance with or how I dance is none of your business! If I want to shake my ass, belly dance, twerk, pop and lock, and grind on the entire bloody dance floor, I will!”

“With that mark on your fuckin’ neck, it is my goddamn business! The only person you’ll be shaking that ass for is me! Because you fuckin’ belong to me!” He roars, his anger palpable.

“I think you’ve been out in the sun too long, mate, because it’s clearly fried your brain. Read. My. Lips. I am not yours!!!”

“Oh, baby, you were mine from the day you were born! Your stubborn mind, that defiant tongue, all the way to that pink, wet pussy is mine!! And if you think I’ll let another man touch you, then princess, you’re in for a rude fuckin’ awakening!”

He’s all over the bloody place. First, he didn’t want me, now he does. I’m getting whiplash. “You need some serious help if you think you can own a person by shagging, biting, and stamping your name on them!” I shout, my voice trembling with anger. “I’m not a bloody possession you can claim whenever you feel like it. One minute you don’t want me, and the next you’re acting like I’m your bloody property!”

“Oh, I’ll do more than that soon.” His laugh is dark and menacing. “By the time I’m finished with you, the whole fuckin’ world will know Avaluna Chesmore is mine and mine alone!”

“Why do you suddenly care if I’m yours or not? Huh?” I yell, my frustration reaching its peak.

“You think I want to feel this way? To be so fuckin’ terrified of losing you that it drives me mad?”

His eyes widen in shock. For the first time, I saw genuine surprise on his face. I don’t think he meant to say that. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning chalk white. He grumbles something under his breath, but I can’t make out the words. The tension between us is so thick you could cut it with a knife. A million thoughts race through my mind, each one more confusing than the last.

We drive in awkward silence, neither of us speaking or even looking at each other after that. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air.

“So,” I began, breaking the thick silence that had settled between us. “Your brother, huh?”

He didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, the muscles in his jaw tightening. I watch him carefully, noting the way he grips on the steering wheel. He clearly didn’t like being questioned. Too bad for him—I have plenty more.

“What’s the deal anyway?”

His lips pulled into a thin line, a silent warning. Still, he says nothing.

“Is he your only brother? I thought vampires couldn’t, you know, reproduce.”. The silence between us growing heavier, almost suffocating.

“What’s wrong? Your brother got your tongue? Or are you just too shy to talk about your family? I mean, I get it—daddy issues, mommy issues, sibling rivalry… It’s all very relatable.”

His eyes flicker toward me, the barest hint of annoyance flashing in them, but he remains silent.

I smirk, sensing I was getting under his skin. “Come on, don’t be like that. You can tell me. We’re stuck in this car together—might as well make it interesting.”

He finally speaks, his voice low and dripping with irritation. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”

“Not a chance,” I shoot back, grinning. “Besides, you look like you need someone to talk to. Therapy on wheels, right?”

His expression darkens, the grin fading as he mutters through gritted teeth, “Did it help you?”

“Maybe.” I shift uncomfortably in my seat, that was a touchy subject for me and he seems to catch on to that real quick. “It wasn’t my choice.”

“I know the feeling,” he grumbles.

“It was all your fault. Ethan deserves better…” My voice trails off.

Better than me.

“His death was honourable.”

“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?”

“I sleep like a baby. It’s all warm and fuzzy thoughts before bed—nothing like a good kill to lull you to sleep.”

“You could have spared him.”

“He was already dead.”

“You don’t know that,” I snap back, riddled with guilt.

“I know you’re trying to psychoanalyse me. Trying to dig up all the deep, dark guilt so we can have a nice, heartfelt bonding moment. Guess what, Angel I’m fresh out of warm, fuzzy feelings.”

His words are like daggers, each one laced with bitter sarcasm. I clench my fists, feeling the anger rise in me. “That was not your call to make.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t,” he says. “It was his and he made it.” He turns back to the road, clearly done with the conversation.

I know deep down he was right I just can’t bring myself to admit it. I stare out the window, trying to make sense of this thing I call life when the flashing lights ahead snap me out of my thoughts. A roadblock? At this time of night? Onyx’s jaw tightens as we approach the blockade.

“Keep your mouth shut and don’t try anything. I swear you’ll regret it,” he growls his tone a warning.

I roll my eyes. “Have I tried anything so far?” I mutter under my breath.

“You think it’s an accident or something?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s too quiet.”

Suddenly, he threw the car into reverse, slamming down on the gas. The cops open fire instantly, bullets ricocheting off the car.

“Get your head down!” he barks.

I scream, burying my head in my lap, my hands pressing into my ears to block out the deafening noise. He spun the car around, shifting gears as we sped in the opposite direction.

“Oh God, I’m a fugitive now. First, you kidnap me, and now we’re running from the cops! What’s next, huh? Stealing candy from babies and shoving little old ladies down?” I exclaim, my voice rising with hysteria.

“Don’t be stupid. Those aren’t cops. They’re hunters,” he snaps, pulling out his phone. “Where’s everyone?”

“Damian and I are at the airstrip,” Ace answers.

“Aurora and I are almost there,” Theron adds.

“So are we,” Skylar chimes in.

“Hunters are on the bend. I’ll have to go around. Be prepared to leave as soon as we arrive.”

“Is Luna okay?” Aurora asks, concern evident in her voice.

“For now,” I grumble.

“Someone’s grouchy,” she teases.

“That’s because someone is always bloody shooting at us,” I snort, hearing Aurora snicker on the other end.

“Have someone deal with them,” he orders and ends the call.

“Why can’t you deal with them? Is the big bad hybrid scared?” I taunt, adopting a mocking baby voice.

“Not when I have to babysit your ass,” he retorts.

“I’ll have you know I can take care of myself!” I shoot back, folding my arms stubbornly like a child.

“Sure,” he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I shoot him a glare, but he doesn’t even flinch. We’ve lost the hunters and ended up on some random back road, and honestly, I hadn’t a clue where we were or if I’d ever see my family again. Right now, I don’t even know what to think. If I’m honest, the whole thing feels like some mad ride I’m absolutely not ready for. As soon as we arrive at the private airstrip—one he owned—we hurry aboard the plane bound for England because the hunters are not far behind. The tequila shots from earlier started to hit, and I was grateful for the aspirin stocked on the plane. The engines roar to life as we take off, leaving the chaos behind.

For now.

---

Chapter 46: Fasten Your Seatbelt.

I wake up with my head on a lap, which is definitely not how I planned to start my day. I jerk upright, immediately regretting the decision as a throbbing headache pounds behind my eyes. Oh, fantastic. Just what I needed—another hangover. I squint against the sunlight streaming through the window.

“Bloody brilliant,” I mutter, rubbing my temples in a futile attempt to stave off the hangover-induced drum solo going on in my skull. It takes me a second to remember why I am on this plane.

“About time you woke up. My legs were starting to go numb,” Onyx says.

I shoot him a glare, then turn to lean against the window, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. A flight attendant appears, her uniform straining at the seams as she sashays down the aisle, a tray balanced expertly in one hand with a glass of amber liquid on it. She leans over him, practically pouring herself into his lap, giggling something in Romanian that I didn’t need to understand to know exactly what she was up to.

Her blouse is so tight I half-expected it to burst open any second, sending her over-inflated fake tits tumbling out like a couple of melons rolling off a cart. I stifle a groan as she bats her eyelashes at him, her skirt so tight it looks like a sausage casing. She is all but drooling over him, her eyes glued to him as if he were the only bloke left on earth.

I clench my jaw, staring out the window with a simmering rage that takes me by surprise. I don’t care if he flirts with that shameless hussy. Not at all. Except I did care, and the tightness in my chest wouldn’t let me forget it. My heart twisted painfully as I fought the urge to cry, hating myself for feeling this way.

He must’ve noticed the shift in my mood because I watched his tone change, suddenly curt and dismissive as he says something to her in return. Her flirty smile falters, and with a huff, she straightens up, her gaze flicking between us before she turns on her heel and struts away.

“You know there is no reason to be jealous of her,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

“I’m not jealous,” I snap, the words sharper than I intended.

I feel him lean in closer, his breath warm against the side of my neck. The hairs on my arms are standing on end, and those damn butterflies flutter to life in my stomach, relentless and infuriating. I really need to invest in a butterfly net—or maybe a shotgun.

“Don’t lie to me, princess,” he whispers, his voice dipping into something almost dangerous. “I can feel it.”

“You’re imagining things,” I bit out, but my voice wavers.

He chuckles softly, the sound rich and dark, sending my heart into a wild leap. Bloody hell. Can’t I have just one moment where my body doesn’t betray me? He then leans in even closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispers. “Am I?”

I whip my head around, ready to tell him to go kiss a toilet seat, only to freeze when I realize just how close he is. One more inch and our lips would touch. His smirk deepens, that cocky, infuriating grin that makes me want to slap him—and kiss him—all at once. His eyes flicker down to my lips, darkening with intent, and then he slowly licks his own. I bite down on my bottom lip, unable to stop myself from staring at the way his moist, red lips glistened.

Why did he have this effect on me? I was a grown woman, not some lovestruck teenager, yet here I was, practically trembling under his gaze.

“That’s so fuckin’ sexy,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, dripping with lust as his eyes lock onto my lips. “How many times do I have to warn you about biting that lip?”

His hand moves under the blanket, sliding up my thigh with agonizing slowness, leaving a trail of tingling heat in its wake. My breath catches in my throat as his touch sends a shiver racing through me.

“Do you have any idea,” he continues, his voice a dark whisper, “how fuckin’ crazy it drives me?”

The intensity in his eyes makes my heart pound erratically, each beat sending a pulse of electricity straight down between my legs.

“W-what are you doing?” The question came out in a stammer.

“Open your legs,” he commands and I shake my head not trusting my voice. “Open your legs or I’ll do it for you,” he growls, his tone a dangerous mix of authority and lust. When I hesitate, his patience snaps. He grabs my thighs, forcing them apart with a firm grip.

“You think you can deny me?” he sneers, his fingers digging into my skin as he spreads my legs wider, exposing me to his gaze. “I’ll take what I want, and you’ll love every second of it.”

His hand slides between my thighs, fingers brushing over my soaked panties, and I gasp, my body betraying the thrill of his rough control. His eyes are dark and predatory, as he leans in close, his lips hovering over mine.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to take more.” His hand moves slowly, deliberately, rubbing me over the thin fabric of my panties, and I can feel myself growing wetter under his touch.

“Screw you.” My body trembling, betraying me with every subtle stroke of his fingers. 

“Soon. Have I told you how sexy you look in this dress?” His voice dripping with lust.

I swallow hard, shaking my head.

What is this game he is playing? One moment, he is distant and cold, and the next, he has me teetering on the edge of losing all control. And to think, they say women are the moody ones. Clearly, they never met this bloke.

“Fuck, you’re responsive,” he growls, his voice rough with desire. “And you smell so damn good.”

A swarm of butterflies explode in my stomach as my core heats up. He dips his head, his lips brushing the side of my neck, each kiss igniting a trail of fire down my spine. His fingers massage my swollen clit through my panties, sending shivers cascading through my entire body. This is madness—I can’t let him toy with me like this. I am a grown-ass woman, not some plaything for him to manipulate.

Just as I summon the will to push him away, he catches my gaze, flashing that sinful, naughty grin that makes my resolve crumble. I shoot him a look that is meant to say, “Don’t you dare,” but it only seems to fuel his amusement.

I place my hand on his, intending to shove him away, but it’s too late. My breath hitches as he slides his thick long fingers in my aching hole and curls it just how I like. My head falls back against the headrest, my legs widening on their own as he drills his fingers in and out of me. Heat surges through me, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

My breathing grows ragged as I try to shift my hips, desperate to touch myself, to find some release. But he is one step ahead, grabbing my hand with a firm grip. “Oh no, princess,” he murmurs, his tone both commanding and teasing. “You’re not in control here. That’s my job.”

The teasing was pushing me to the brink of madness, every nerve stretched tight with need. And the mark on my neck humming his praises.

“Why are you doing this?!” my voice breathy and frustrated.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “You’re so easy to drive wild. It’s almost too much fun.”

“Go to hell!”

“I’d be bored to death without you there to entertain me.” He chuckles slowing his pace.

Each movement sends a jolt of pleasure through me, my body arching instinctively, craving more. My pulse races, every muscle tensing with anticipation and frustration as he keeps me on the edge.

I shoot him a defiant glare, even as my body betrays me. “Oh, so I’m your personal entertainment now?” I quip, my voice laced with sarcasm as I try to twist out of his grip. “Guess I’ll have to start charging you by the hour.”

He grabs my breast and squeezes with a low growl. “Put it on my tab.”

I try to form a retort, something to regain control, but my mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I want to push him away, to demand that he stop—yet my body screams for him to continue. My breath hitches as his thumb brushes over my nipple, sending another wave of heat through me.

“Stop…” I manage to whisper, though even to my own ears it sounds dreadfully unconvincing. My body arches into his touch, betraying every ounce of my so-called resistance.

He smirks, his eyes glinting with that maddening mix of amusement and challenge. “Stop?” he repeats, tilting his head as though I’d just told him the most entertaining joke of the century. “Are you quite sure about that?” And then, without another word, he brushes his lips over my mark. Any shred of resistance I have left simply melts away as I clench around his fingers.

He watches me with a knowing smirk. “I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

I could have rolled my eyes if I wasn’t too busy drowning in sensation. One simple lick on that bloody mark and I am ready to go weak at the knees, practically begging him to have his way with me. It was a feeling like no other—honestly, I might as well have painted a target on myself and shouted, “Come and get it, love.”

Bastard. “Please,” I whisper, my voice trembling, desperate for relief.

His lips brush against my mark, as his fingers pick up their pace just slightly, maintaining a maddening rhythm. “Please what, princess?” he teases, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

I bite my lip, fighting back tears of frustration. “You know what I want,” I manage to say, though the words felt almost absurd in their simplicity.

He chuckles darkly, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. His eyes are alight with satisfaction, the smirk never leaving his lips. “Do I? Or do you need to spell it out for me?”

My hands clench into fists, and I try to force my body to stay still, but it is a losing battle. Every fibre of my being is on fire, every touch sending waves of pleasure that I can’t escape. His fingers never falter, never speeding up beyond the pace he has set and it is driving me insane.

The heat in my core builds to an unbearable crescendo, and I find myself desperately trying to move with his touch, to find that release he was so cruelly withholding. I can hardly think straight, the only thing clear in my mind is the relentless pleasure and the need to break free from this maddening control he has over me. And this blasphemous mark only seems to amplify it all and he knows it.. He is a horrible man! HORRIBLE I TELL YOU!

“Make me cum,” I whimper, surrendering to the intense desire coursing through me. He has won, and all I can think about is the unbearable ache between my legs.

A low, primal growl rumbles from his chest as he grabs me, pulling me onto his lap. He positions me in reverse cowgirl, his hands gripping my hips as his fingers plunge deep inside me. The pressure of his hard length straining against his pants only fuels the fire within me, making my body tremble with need.

“Onyx,” I moan, my voice a desperate blend of whimper and plea, as I rock my hips against his fingers, chasing that sweet edge.

His breath is hot against my neck, his voice a husky whisper in my ear. “Tell me, angel,” he purrs, his fingers curling finding my sweet spot. “Do you want to cum like this, or on my cock?”

The choice dangles between us like a wicked promise, and the intensity of his words sends a fresh wave of lust crashing over me. I clench around his fingers, the tension inside me coiling, ready to snap, as I teeter on the brink of ecstasy.

“I—”

“Too long, angel,” he growls, withdrawing his fingers abruptly. I whined at the loss, the emptiness almost unbearable.

---

Chapter 47: Fasten Your Seatbelt for a Wild Ride!

“Don’t whine,” he chastises, his voice low and commanding as his hand slides to my breast, squeezing with a possessive intensity. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to wake up,” he murmurs against my neck before nipping at my skin, sending electric pulses through my body. “Be a good girl and ride Daddy’s hard cock.”

That’s so hot. Not like I have a daddy fetish or anything. Without warning, he lifts me and guides me down on this thick hard cock. Even though I am soaking wet I still let out a hiss of pain as I struggle to take him in. God, I forgot how big he is. My breath hitches, and I can’t stifle the moans that spilt from my lips as he stretches my tight cunt in the most delicious way.

“What a needy little cunt you have,” he growls, his voice rough with lust. His hands yank down my dress, and my breasts spilt into his hands, the sensation sending shudders through me.

I can’t hold back anymore. I start bouncing on him, my fingers digging into his thighs for support. Both his hands on my breasts, groping, teasing, driving me higher and higher. The wet slapping sound of our bodies colliding filled the air, my moans growing louder. A jolt of pleasure rips through me, my muscles tightening.

“Cum for me,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with that delicious authority.

Just as I hit the edge, he sinks his teeth into my neck. My pussy clenches around him and I let out a deep, throaty moan that is anything but ladylike. The pleasure hit me in waves, leaving me boneless, a complete mess, and utterly spent. Thoughts? Gone. All I can feel is him, every sinful inch, leaving me thoroughly and wonderfully ruined. He withdraws his fangs from my neck, and in one swift motion, he rips my dress off, taking my panties with it. Before I can even catch my breath, he lays me down on the seat, his eyes dark with hunger. A new excitement bubbles inside me, the heat in my core building once more.

“Wrap your legs around me and hold on tight,” he growls, his voice laced with a dark promise.

The command sends a thrill through me, and I do as he says, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. His elbow is braced beside me, his hand cradling my head, preventing me from banging my head.

He slides in me as he kisses, bites, and licks at my neck and the mark he had left. There is no time to adjust to his thick length as he moves impossibly fast, hard, and deep, his rhythm relentless. For some reason, my eyes are drawn to the rhythm of his pulse, and a strange, unsettling sensation ripples through me. Before I can make sense of it, a brief but intense thought flashes through my mind…What would his blood taste like?

The idea was bizarre and confusing, yet it stirred something deep within me. My heart races, a mix of unease and unexpected desire swirling together, leaving me both disoriented and inexplicably turned on. And then, without warning, a sudden hunger blooms inside me, raw and primal, as if the very thought had awakened something I didn’t know I craved. His hips ground against my clit, sending waves of pleasure shooting through me and all was forgotten.

For now…

“Oh god! Right there! Don’t stop!” I moan, my voice growing louder with each thrust, mixing with his guttural grunts of approval.

“You like that?”

“Yess, yess, yesss!”

He lets out an approving growl and picks up his pace. My body convulses as I come, pleasure exploding through me, but he doesn’t slow down. If anything, his pace only quickens, relentless and hungry, driving deeper into me. He pounds into me mercilessly, pushing me straight into another mind-shattering orgasm, my screams of ecstasy echoing around us as he claims every last bit of my pleasure. That hunger suddenly returns and this time I can’t shake it.

Onyx’s jaw tightens as if he knows what I am thinking. Which he does. Bastard. Suddenly he slices the side of his neck with a claw, and I watch, entranced, as the crimson liquid drips down his throat. Instinct takes over, and I lick up the blood dripping down his neck. I clamp my mouth down on the wound. His body shudders, an approving growl vibrating through his chest. I never imagined I’d like the taste of blood, but he was tangy, sweet, and intoxicating in a way that defied reason and logic. It should repulse me, but instead, it feels euphoric, his warm blood sliding down my throat, binding us even closer.

As he pounds into me mercilessly, I can feel his balls slapping against me, his thrusts growing more aggressive, more frantic. His fangs sink into my neck once more, and I release his neck with a scream as a pleasure I never felt before rips through me again. My pussy clenches around him, squeezing, milking him, pushing him over the edge. He groans deeply, his body jerking as he spills his hot seed into me.

My eyes roll back while he moves slowly, and deliberately, prolonging my orgasm, emptying himself inside me. He withdraws his fangs from my neck, and I gasp for air, my body spent, my mind reeling. I don’t think I can come anymore.

“Fucking hell, Ava,” he pants, staring down at me with something that looks like adoration—maybe even love.

“That was…” I had no idea what that was other than other worldly and the best orgasm I ever had.

We were both drenched in sweat, panting for air, our bodies still humming with the aftershocks of what had just happened. But then something dark flickers in his eyes, and without warning, he pulls away from me. I can feel the mixture of our juices slipping out of me, leaving a cold, empty sensation that matches the confusion swirling in my head. This sudden shift was like a punch to the gut. PMS had nothing on this fool.

“The shower’s in the back,” he says, his voice now icy and distant, a tone that makes me flinch as if he slapped me.

I frown, unable to understand how he could switch from passionate and tender to cruel and indifferent in the blink of an eye. Just moments ago, he had been all-consuming, his touch setting my skin on fire. And now, he is an unfeeling stranger.

“I was hungry. It was either you or the flight attendant,” he shrugs as if it meant nothing at all.

The casual cruelty of his words cut deep. My eyes welling up with tears, my bottom lip quivering as I try to hold them back. He doesn’t even bother to glance at me as he turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the aftermath of what feels like rejection and shame.

Sometimes, I can feel the way he feels about me. I catch him watching me when he thinks I’m not paying attention, his gaze burning into my skin like a secret he’s desperate to keep. And when we sleep, he always pulls me into his arms, holding me close as if I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to this world—yet he’s careful to never let me catch him doing it. I’ve never told him I know.

There’s something about him, something I can sense even when I can’t see him. He’s always there, always lurking in the shadows, possessive and protective, his presence as inescapable as my own thoughts. He’s territorial, and fierce in the way he claims me without ever acknowledging it. And yet, he acts as if I’m nothing to him, just another passing moment in his life.

Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe I’m just imagining things, my wild imagination spinning fantasies out of thin air. But I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something real beneath his cold exterior, something he’s too afraid to admit. God, this jerk is going to drive me bonkers. I’m going to end up in a nuthouse, locked away with nothing but these maddening thoughts of him, trying to decipher the puzzle of his heart while mine shatters in the process. Every single time, I let myself fall into his trap, handing over my heart only for him to shatter it once more. Every single time, he takes a piece of me, leaving it in ruins, and yet I keep coming back. God, how gullible could I be? When will I learn that this is all just a twisted game to him, a cycle he revels in? The man is incapable of love—he acts like he cares, says things that make me question everything, but it’s all a facade. And still, here I am, broken and bewildered, wondering how I let it happen again.

I quickly pull myself together and padded over to the back room. The room is far more luxurious than I expected, especially on a plane. The glass shower is large enough to fit two people comfortably, and its sleek design is a perfect match for the custom-made bed bolted in the centre of the room. The bed is draped in soft linens, with a dark brown bench at its foot and a matching built-in closet on the far wall. The décor is rich and inviting, with every detail meticulously crafted. This must have cost him a fortune, like who has their own room on a plane?

I stand under the scalding water, letting it cascade over me, hoping it would wash away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. But even the heat can’t chase away the chill that has settled in my blood or the cold, hollow ache in my heart. I’m unable to wrap my head around why he is doing this—why he keeps tearing me apart when I can feel, deep down, just how much he cares for me. I know he craves my touch, that he wants me. But then, why does he act so cold, so distant? Why does he say things that cut me to the core, as if he takes pleasure in my pain? Maybe I was confusing his feelings with my own, projecting my desires onto him. Who could tell anymore? The lines between what is real and what is in my head have become so blurred that I don’t know which way is up or down anymore.

I shut off the shower and wrap myself in a white, plush towel, feeling the softness against my skin, but it does little to comfort me. I notice the clothes laid out on the bed—a pair of delicate lace knickers, a red crop tee, blue ripped jeans, and a pair of sneakers. I get dressed and sit on the edge of the bed, tying my laces when I hear the door open. Onyx enters the room, his presence immediately commanding the space. Without a word, he begins stripping off his clothes, revealing his stupid Perfect body, each movement fluid and controlled. I watch, my heart tightening with a mix of emotions I can’t even begin to sort out.

He doesn’t acknowledge me as he steps into the shower, the glass fogging up slightly as the water turns on. The sight of him under the spray, his head tilted back as the water streams over his skin, is almost too much to bear. I want to join him, to feel his warmth, and at the same time to drown him. But I stay where I am, rooted to the bed, clutching the edge of the mattress as if it could anchor me in the storm of confusion swirling inside me.

I quickly stand to leave when he orders, “Don’t leave.”

The nerve of him, especially after everything he’s said. It makes my blood boil. I reach for the door, determined to walk out when suddenly, I am yanked into a damp, hard, wet chest. Water from his soaked hair dripping onto my face, adding to the frustration of the moment. The way he looks, so impossibly sexy despite the chaos between us, makes it even harder to maintain my anger.

Not to mention he’s naked and wet and naked.

I squirm, trying to pull away. “You’re getting me wet! Let go!”

He chuckles, the sound low and teasing. “We can fix that.”

“Onyx!” I squeal, and he finally releases me. I glance down, and his fully erect cock is twitching under my gaze. The sight is impossible to ignore, and I feel my cheeks flush.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he growls, his voice husky and full of promise, “I might just take you against that wall.”

My face burns with heat, and I spin around, desperately trying to control my desire. Honestly, part of me wants him to do just that, but I refuse to admit it. Ugh, I was such a mess. Why can’t he be pale and fat with oversized fangs and a hideous face? That would make everything so much easier. Instead, I’m caught up with Mr. Sex-On-A-Stick dripping water on the plush rug. And naked.

“Ava… About earlier… You were always my first choice,” he says, his voice softer as he walks away. I barely hear him mumbling, “You’ll always be,” more to himself than to me.

Before he steps back into the shower, he looks over his shoulder and asks, not commands, but pleads, “Stay? Please.” Onyx Dreklaus had just said “Please.”

If my world wasn’t already turned upside down, this would be the headline of the century. I stand there, gobsmacked. Onyx Dreklaus—the same Onyx who usually carries on as though he’s God’s gift to vampires and anyone else who happens to be in his line of sight—just said “please.” He said it to me. If this were a novel, I’d be flipping back through pages to make sure I hadn’t missed some pivotal chapter.

“You might want to sit down. Looks like the hot water is having an effect on you.”

I hear him chuckle as he keeps washing himself. Thankfully, the glass fogged up enough to obscure the view of his annoyingly perfect backside and ridiculously toned back. I can’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse, to be honest. Thank heavens the glass was fogged up enough to shield me from the full, sculpted view of him in all his glory. Not that I was interested, of course. I mean, it was just… there. And hard to ignore. Any woman in my position would look.

I’m so screwed.

---

Chapter 48: Meet The Family.

“Wake up.”

“Maa,” I groan. “Five more minutes.”

He chuckles softly. “Ava, wake up. We’re here.”

It takes me a moment to register the voice, but when I do, I jolt upright. I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep. He stands there with his arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watches me struggle to get my bearings. I shoot him a glare.

“Let’s go?” He nods toward the door.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Can I stop you?”

“No,” I mutter, catching the amused glint in his eye as he waits for me to continue.

“Why did I want to drink your blood?” I blurt out, my voice shaky. “Am I turning into—into a—” I flounder, the words tangle in my throat. His smirk widens as he watches me flail. “Did you turn me into a vampire or something?” He raises an eyebrow. I glare at him, my frustration mixing with a touch of indignation. “Why do I suddenly crave your blood like it’s the latest superfood trend? What’s next, becoming a bloody bat?”

“Well, if you do turn into a bat, let me know.”

I roll my eyes, trying to keep my cool. “Seriously, what’s going on? I’m not exactly thrilled about suddenly having an urge to drink your blood. This is just fantastic. First, I have to deal with that bloody mark you gave me, which was bad enough. Now, I’m apparently not just stuck with the mark but also this insane need to drink your blood.”

His smirk fades into a look of mild annoyance. “What you’re feeling is the mate bond.”

I frown, struggling to make sense of it all. “So you’re saying my sudden craving for your blood is because we’re… soulmates? But that doesn’t explain why I’m craving blood. Am I supposed to go around biting people and drinking their blood?”

A menacing growl rumbles from his throat, and in a heartbeat, he’s across the room, his hand wrapped around my neck. I gasp, my eyes widen in fear as his grip tightens just enough to warn, but not hurt. His eyes flash dangerously, fangs elongating in a terrifying display.

“You are mine,” he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. “You will drink from no one but me.” His gaze bore into mine, fierce and unyielding. “The reason you’re craving my blood is because part of you has accepted the bond. To complete it and bind us together for eternity, we have to drink from each other.” He releases me abruptly, his jaw clenched tight with irritation. “Believe me, I’d rather not be bound by this mate nonsense either. I didn’t ask for it any more than you did. But here we are, and it seems the universe has a twisted sense of humour.”

“Eternity?” I ask, my voice trembling. I don’t know if I should be thrilled or terrified. “I’m human—I don’t think eternity fits into my lifespan.”

He shakes his head with a sigh. “That’s a question for another day.” He moves toward the door and throws it open. “Let’s go.”

“But—”

“No, not unless you are offering yours.”

“You’re despicable,” I hiss pretending to be insulted when a part of me already had started to wonder what that would feel like.

“All you need to do is ask,” he smirks.

“Will you stay out of my head!”

“Why, when it’s so much more entertaining in there than out here? Now move.”

“No.”

“No?” he growls out.

“You heard me.” I fold my arms pretending I’m not scared of him.

He nods and in a flash, he hoists me effortlessly over his shoulder. I yelp, pounding on his back as he carries me out of the plane. I kick and scream cursing him with every name in the book.

“Put me down, you bloody fanged mongrel!” I yell, my voice a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “You overgrown bat-eared mutt! Let me go, you sodding leech-faced brute!”

I can feel the muscles in his back tense slightly with each of my blows, but he doesn’t slow down. The cool air hits my face as we exit the plane, and I squirm harder, determined to make him regret manhandling me like a sack of potatoes.

“Seriously, you flea-bitten bloodsucker, I will end you!” I hiss, twisting in his grip. “Is this how you get your kicks? Hauling women around like some deranged, overgrown pack mule?”

He stops suddenly, his grip on me tightening just enough to make me gasp. “If you don’t stop wiggling, love, I might just drop you.”

“You arrogant, coffin-dwelling knuckle-dragger!” I spat, but my heart raced at his tone. There was something darkly thrilling about being at his mercy, though I’d never admit it.

“Now be a good girl and stop fussing, or I might have to put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.”

My breath catches in my throat, and I freeze, the fight momentarily draining out of me as his words echo in my ears. Despite the fury still bubbling inside me, a traitorous part of me finds his teasing voice impossible to ignore.

“Put me down now, you waste of oxygen or I swear, I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll need a map to find it. Then again you’d probably enjoy it!” I glare, emphasizing “enjoy” with a sharp edge in my voice.

He matches my venom with a wicked grin. “I got something I can shove up your ass, and I guarantee you’d love it.” He stresses “guarantee,” and delivers a firm smack to my backside.

I yelp. For God’s sake, it’s too bloody early for this nonsense!

“You know what? I’m not wasting my breath arguing with a walking fairytale gone wrong.” I fold my arms in a show of defiance as he strides down the stairs with me slung over his shoulder. Sunlight assaults my eyes, forcing a squint as I adjust to the unwelcome brightness. I catch a glimpse of the reapers’ faces, smirking like they’ve paid for front-row seats to this ridiculous performance.

“I am a grown, mature woman, and I refuse to lower myself to your juvenile level.”

He snorts, not breaking his stride. “Is that the best comeback you’ve got?”

“I could always come at you with a wooden stake.”

He finally sets me down, leaning in close, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “Or you could just come for me again.”

I stumble slightly, glaring up at him, but the words die on my lips as I take in his smirk. He looks every bit the predatory creature I accused him of being, and yet, there is something undeniably magnetic about him. I am torn between throttling him and laughing at the sheer audacity. I open my mouth to retort, but he takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming. I can feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with the cool air that clings to my skin. He is close enough that I can see the faint hint of fangs as he smiles, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

“For someone who claims to despise my kind, you seem awfully interested in getting under my skin.”

For a split second, I consider backing down, but the stubborn part of me refuses to give him the satisfaction. “You’re not nearly as scary as you think, you nocturnal nuisance.”

“And you,” he breathes, his lips dangerously close to mine, “are more trouble than any female I’ve ever met.”

Someone clears their throat, snapping me back to reality, and it’s only then do I remember they were all on the plane. Bloody hell! My cheeks blaze with embarrassment as I storm off in the opposite direction, cursing under my breath.

Lucky for me, I recognize the terrain as soon as we land—the open field near the old trail my family and I used to take on our camping trips. The nostalgia does little to calm my nerves, though. Aurora and Skylar are by my side in seconds, flanking me like shadowy conspirators, their lips twitching with barely contained amusement.

“Just say it!” I huff, throwing my hands in the air, exasperation oozing from every pore.

“Say what?” Aurora feigns innocence, her voice wobbling with suppressed laughter.

“Oh, Daddy, right there—don’t stop!” Skylar moans, perfectly imitating my voice.

I screech to a halt, eyes wide, and we all dissolve into hysterics, doubled over with our hands clutching our stomachs.

“You’re bloody awful,” I gasp between bouts of laughter.

“And you, darling, are a screamer,” Skylar fires back without missing a beat.

“Ugh!” I groan, shaking my head at them.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Aurora says, but the flicker of amusement in her eyes tells me she’s just trying to soften the blow.

“Really?” I raise an eyebrow, hoping for a sliver of sympathy.

“Nope,” Skylar says, striding ahead with a careless shrug.

“Sky!” Aurora scolds, shooting her a disapproving look.

“What? I’m just being honest,” Skylar retorts with a smirk, as we trail behind her. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, especially after you pulled off the impossible and got him to turn his humanity back on.”

“Wait, his humanity’s back on?” I blink, stopping in my tracks.

Skylar glances back, rolling her eyes. “You didn’t notice?”

“No”. How could I have missed that?

“Well, he’s still the same bastard you know—minus the occasional murder spree,” Skylar explains, almost too casually. “Don’t get me wrong, his body count is still impressive, just significantly… reduced.”

“Oh, joy,” I mutter, sarcasm dripping from my words. So he’s slightly less homicidal.

Big bloody whoop.

Now that I think about it his eyes had changed—no longer dulled by that lifeless, glazed-over look.

Aurora squeezes my arm gently, offering a faint smile. “Hey, it’s a start. You’re the reason he’s changed at all.”

I scoff, though a part of me—one I refuse to acknowledge—thrums with the uncomfortable realization that I might have made a difference. And in this twisted, apocalyptic dance we’re caught in, maybe that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

“Why did he turn off his humanity?” I ask.

“It’s… complicated,” Aurora says.

“The only person he’s ever been different around is you,” Skylar says, looking directly at me. “And that started long before the whole beloved thing. Remember when Wyatt claimed her?” She turns to Aurora.

Aurora smirks, her eyes glinting with a dark amusement. “Wyatt was lucky the prince’s humanity switch was off then. Otherwise, he’d be six feet under.”

I furrow my brows, trying to piece together their cryptic words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Skylar gives a half-shrug, her expression suddenly serious. “If you weren’t scared out of your mind, you’d have noticed how pissed he was when Wyatt claimed you.”

“And that wolfgirl…” Aurora’s voice drops, almost conspiratorial. “The only reason she’s still breathing is because of you.”

“Humanity on or off, the prince is still the prince.” Skylar’s voice is low and weighted with truth. “He’s just… more emotional now.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” I ask hesitantly, trying to find some reassurance. The look on their faces silences me, filling the air with unspoken dread. “Oh.”

“More emotions mean…” Aurora starts, but Skylar finishes.

“Means I pity anyone who dares piss him off,” Skylar says bluntly. “But you? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Because I’m his beloved,” I mock, air-quoting the word like it’s some kind of sick joke. I roll my eyes, but the weight of the title feels heavier than ever.

“Even before all that beloved nonsense,” Skylar mimics my air quotes. “I told Ro you’d be dead by the time we got to Romania.”

“But then… the way he held you that night,” Aurora continues, her tone softening. “When you fell asleep in his arms, and he carried you to the plane, letting you sleep like that…” My cheeks flush with the memory, warmth spreading unbidden. “I knew you were different. Special.”

Skylar snickers. “His arms must’ve been damn comfortable because you were out cold.”

“Pfft. No, that’s not—” I begin to protest, but Aurora shushes me sharply.

“Quiet!” Aurora’s eyes suddenly focused elsewhere. “I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.”

Skylar narrows her eyes at her. “Eavesdropping? Really?”

Aurora shrugs. “Fine, I won’t tell you anything then.”

“You better spill,” I warn playfully.

“Sirius is saying—no, shouting at this point—’We heard what you told her about the flight attendant. What the hell is wrong with you?” Aurora’s smile wavers as she glances at me nervously.

I force a smile, even as the sting of tears prick my eyes.

“He’s an asshole,” Skylar says cutting through the tension.

I nod.

Aurora goes back to eavesdropping, leaning closer to catch every word. “You fed her your blood, for crying out loud! Theron’s voice is strains, a mix of exasperation and anger.”

“It was just a drop,” the prince replies dismissively.

Aurora and Skylar exchange a knowing eye-roll. ‘Yeah, right,’ their expressions scream.

“That wasn’t a drop! The entire flight crew went into a frenzy from the scent of your blood. We had to physically restrain them while you fed her!” Sirius’s voice rises, and Aurora cringes.

Without warning, Aurora blurts out, “What does his blood taste like?”

I blink at her, startled. “Blood?” I shrug, my stomach twisting. “I don’t know… It’s just blood.” My voice wavers, and I grimace, disgusted with myself. What kind of person drinks someone else’s blood?

“When you’re mating and feeding, his blood will taste specific to you,” Aurora explains with a touch of seriousness. “As a human, blood should repel you, but because he’s your beloved, his blood is irresistible.”

“And even more so because he’s royal,” Skylar adds, her tone almost reverent.

I scoff, my lips curling in distaste. “I bet all the other slags he’s fed were thrilled.” I cross my arms, pouting.

Aurora giggles, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You really think he’s fed other women?”

“Well… yeah?” I admit, wrinkling my nose in annoyance and disgust.

“To drink a royal’s blood is a divine privilege,” Aurora says, her voice taking on a dark, almost haunting quality. “Only a beloved is allowed that taste.” She glances at me, and I tense up at the hint of something unspoken. Sensing my unease, she quickly adds, “We may be slaves to our bloodlust, but our loyalty is to the prince. We’d never act on it—especially knowing he’s feeding you.”

Skylar steps closer, her voice low and deliberate. “You’re the only one he’s ever fed his blood to. And you’ll be the last. Vampires can’t help themselves when it comes to their beloveds—especially males. Human or not, his instinct to feed you will always dominate.” She leans in, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. “Especially when you’re riding daddy.”

My cheeks flame as I gasp. “You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

“Nope,” Skylar and Aurora laugh, their voices ringing with delight.

I huff. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever this is, he’ll get over it and move on to his next beloved.”

Aurora’s hand suddenly whips out, smacking my arm. “Ouch!” I glare at her, rubbing the sting away.

“Do you even realise what you are to him?”

I snort, sarcasm dripping from my voice. “His blood-bag harlot?”

Skylar smacks my other arm, harder this time. “You’re his soulmate. His princess. His beloved.”

“Tell that to him,” I snap back, my words sharp and cutting.

Aurora’s expression softens, her voice tinged with quiet confidence. “He knows.”

I narrow my eyes, doubt flickering. “You sure about that?” She frowns but doesn’t answer, the silence hanging heavy between us. “That’s what I thought.” I turn and continue my way uphill.

I felt like I was trapped on a twisted roller coaster, spiralling through some deranged alternate universe. Vampires, werewolves, witches, fairies, princes, beloveds, humanity, hunters, rogues—love, hate, and mood swings all collide into one chaotic mess. It’s like the universe threw everything at me, just to see how much I could take before I’d snap. I longed for the days when my biggest worries were surviving finals, dodging my parents’ expectations, and lying through my teeth to my therapist about how “well-adjusted” I was. Back then, my sanctuary was a dark dorm room with my night lights and the scariest thing was my overdue assignments.

But now? Now I’m stuck dealing with a temperamental, Greek god-like hybrid vampire alpha prince whose mood swings could rival a tornado. I never know which version of him I’m waking up to: the tender lover, the arrogant ruler, or the brooding immortal. I can’t keep up, and I sure as bloody hell can’t figure him out. Why can’t he come with a bloody manual, like one of those incomprehensible IKEA booklets? At least then, when I’m hopelessly lost, I’d know it’s not just me—anyone would struggle. And to think, they say women are complicated in relationships. No, mate, the truth is, you just don’t listen.

Why can’t he be a normal guy? Or, better yet, just a plain old human. Is that really too much to ask? Instead, I’m left trying to decipher the mind of a centuries-old prince with a god complex, whose idea of communication is more cryptic than the Da Vinci code.

“Do I even want to know?” A familiar voice says, and my head snaps up.

Aurora and Skylar are instantly at my side, hissing defensively at the newcomer. But I barely register their reaction because the moment I see him, I squeal and launch myself into his arms, my legs wrapping around his waist, arms looping around his neck. Aurora and Skylar exchange bewildered glances, but I ignore them.

“Avaluna!” Onyx’s voice rumbles, deep and furious, jealousy dripping from every syllable.

Great, now he’s jealous. Possessiveness, anger, and a searing heat radiate from him burning through me like wildfire. Before I can even think, Avin shoves me behind him, pulling out a gun and aiming it squarely at Onyx.

“Will you put that away!” I snap, smacking Avin’s arm down, exasperated by the sheer insanity of it all.

“Have you gone bloody bonkers? What the hell have they done to you?” Avin’s eyes flicker with a mix of fury and concern.

I roll my eyes, planting my hands on my hips. “You’re the one waving around a bloody gun, and you think I’m the one who’s gone bonkers?”

All eyes locked on us with mixed expressions.

Avin glares. “Do you even know what they are?”

“Pfft… Do you?”

He sighs heavily, dragging a hand through his hair, gun still in hand. “Avaluna Chesmore, what the hell have you gotten yourself mixed up in this time?” His tone is somewhere between a scolding father and a desperate plea. “Please tell me it’s not what I think.”

I bite my lip. “Depends. What do you think?”

“I think you’re taking them to Bellary.” His voice is tight with suspicion.

“Pfft.” I cross my arms defiantly, refusing to confirm anything.

Avin’s gaze sweeps over me, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the details. “You’re not compelled, and you’re not wearing a collar, so you’re not a pet.” He glances at Onyx, noting the fury simmering beneath his steely exterior. “And judging by the way he’s staring at me like he wants me dead…” Avin’s gaze shifts to my neck, and before I can react, he pulls back the collar of my shirt, revealing Onyx’s mark. The forest crackles with tension as Onyx’s growl reverberates like a warning bell, his rage spiking so fiercely I can feel it clawing at my insides.

I leap in front of Avin, arms outstretched, just as Onyx lunges. “Stop!” I shout, eyes clenched shut, bracing for impact. But nothing happens.

When I open my eyes, Onyx is towering over me, his eyes swirling with fury, fangs bared, and claws extended. His face is a terrifying mix of rage and something far darker. I exhale shakily, lowering my trembling arms.

“O-Onyx—” I start, but my words are cut off as he yanks me into his chest, his grip fierce and unyielding. His head buries into my neck, and I shiver as he brushes his lips over his mark, possessively claiming me all over again.

“Eww, Luna. Spare me the mate bullshit,” Avin groans, disgust twisting his features. “I can’t believe you let a blood-sucking leech mark you.”

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I try to wiggle free. “Onyx, let go.”

“No,” he growls, tightening his hold, his body rigid with unspoken anger.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

He curses under his breath, refusing to release me. I try to turn back to Avin, but Onyx yanks me back by my hips, his grip bruising.

“You’re not going near him,” Onyx snaps, his voice laced with a deadly promise. “Or I swear, I’ll kill him this time.”

“Luna?” Avin drawls out wanting answers.

“Avin, m-meet Onyx, my…” kidnapper with benefit… “b-boyfriend… Onyx, this is Avin, my big brother.” My laugh comes out shaky and nervous, sweat prickling my skin.

God, is it getting hot out here?

Avin arches an eyebrow. “Boyfriend, huh?”

---

Chapter 49: Between a Rosé and a Hard Place.

To say everyone was surprised is an understatement. Onyx remains impassive as always. I shouldn’t be surprised that Avin pieced everything together so quickly, but it left me with a gnawing question, how did he know so much?

I let out a nervous laugh, the kind that slips out when the silence becomes too heavy to bear. “Well, this is… awkward.”

Avin’s gaze didn’t waver. “Does Mum know about your boyfriend?”

“Pfft—yes, no, maybe… Not yet?”

Avin raised an eyebrow. “So that’s a no.”

“I’m working up to it, alright? It’s not exactly a pass-the-salt dinner conversation, is it?”

Avin gives me a dry look. “So, what’s the plan? Keep dodging until she figures it out herself? Classic strategy. What happens when she finds out? We know she will.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I’m halfway across it,” I say, half-grinning.

“And when it blows up halfway?” Avin tilts his head, clearly unimpressed.

I wave him off. “Look, she’s too busy these days with her wine-tasting and romantic getaways. Plus, you know how she gets with a bottle of rosé—it’ll soften the blow.”

“Great. We’ll just schedule the meeting between her third and fourth glass. Timing is everything,” he deadpans.

“Exactly! Besides, worst-case scenario, I’ll just throw him under the bus. Tell her it was all his fault.”

“You do realize he’s got a higher survival rate than you, right?”

I shrug. “Well, I guess I’ll have to keep buying her those fancy candles she loves. Every disaster can be diffused with enough lavender and eucalyptus.”

“Candles won’t save you from the wrath of Mum, Ava.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have a very fast exit strategy.”

“Ah, yes. Jumping out of windows. Mature. I see we’re handling this like adults.”

“Absolutely. What could possibly go wrong?”

“And dad?”

“Lucky for us he’s bulletproof.” I shrug half serious, half joking. “What does it even matter anyway? I’m old enough to have a boyfriend.”

“Nobody said you can’t have a boyfriend but he’s not even human.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the knot forming in my stomach. “Yeah, well, humans are overrated. Have you seen the dating pool lately? At least he doesn’t ghost me—literally or figuratively.”

“Real funny,” Avin says, his tone dry enough to parch the Sahara. “You’re dating a vampire, Ava. It’s not the same as swiping right on some bloke named Liam who works in IT.”

“They know we’re all standing right here, right?” Ace says.

I scoff. “You’re being dramatic. And She doesn’t have to know.”

“That’s not just a minor detail you can gloss over like forgetting to RSVP to a wedding. Mum will take one look at you and know you’re keeping something from her. And then what? This would be like the rug thing all over again.”

“That’s unfair,” I shoot back, pointing at him. “That was years ago, and to be fair, the dog looked guilty.”

“He wasn’t even in the house when you spilt the wine on the rug!” Avin’s voice rose slightly, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“Minor detail,” I say with a dismissive wave. “And why is that so hard for you to accept? Not every vampire is a walking horror movie trope.”

“Because,” he says, his voice hard, “when things go wrong—and they will—it’s not just your neck on the line.”

I narrow my eyes, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “You don’t even know him, Avin. You’re judging him based on what he is, not who he is. That’s so—so—”

“Practical?” he interjects smoothly. “Cautious? Sensible?”

“Prejudiced,” I snap not knowing why I was defending him in the first place. Avin is right. Yet here I am, it’s like I can’t help myself. “You’re acting like Mum when she found out I pierced my nose. All doom and gloom, like the world’s ending.”

“This isn’t about piercings, Ava,” he says, his voice dropping into that infuriatingly calm tone he used when he thought he was being the reasonable one. “This is about your safety. And while we’re on the subject—how much do you really know about him? About his kind?”

“I know enough.”

Avin’s expression hardens. “You’re sure about that? Because he and his Reapers have a reputation. And it’s not the kind that gets you a plaque in the town square.”

“You’re my brother. You’re supposed to trust me to make my own decisions.”

“And what if those decisions get you killed?”

The words hit harder than I want to admit. “Then at least it’ll be my choice,” I say finally, my voice quieter now but no less resolute.

Avin sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “You’re so stubborn.”

“It runs in the family.”

“So… we’re not killing him?” Ace frowns, his tone almost disappointed. “Or can we?” His grin spreads wide, mischievous.

“No!” I snap, shooting him a look.

“He’s a hunter,” Sirius growls, his voice cold as ice.

My eyes widen. A hunter?! Bloody hell! I swallow hard but push down the fear clawing at me. “He’s my brother. He’s family. And family doesn’t kill each other.”

Theron’s gaze pierces through me, voice steady and unforgiving. “He won’t hesitate to kill us.”

“He’s not exactly shooting at us either!” I gesture towards my brother, who’s standing there, hands relaxed by his sides, unreadable.

“Not yet,” Ace mutters, his eyes flicking to the gun holstered at my brother’s hip.

“They’re right,” Avin says, agreeing far too easily for my taste.

I glare at him, silently screaming, Not helping! “Seriously?” I snap, frowning at him.

“The only reason he hasn’t opened fire yet is because of his baby sister,” Damian says.

“Baby sister?” A raspy voice cuts through the tension. Another man steps into view, sliding up beside Avin. He’s bald, his rust-coloured eyes gleaming with a sick hunger, muscles bulging under his shirt like he’s been pumping himself full of steroids. His gaze sweeps over me, lingering far too long, making my skin crawl. “Damn, A, she’s even hotter than the first sister,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he licks his lips.

I can feel Onyx’s murderous rage bubbling beneath the surface, even though his expression remains deceptively calm. But I sense the storm brewing inside him. The way the perv looks at me makes my stomach churn, and I tense under his lecherous gaze.

Sensing my discomfort, Onyx’s hand moves to the small of my back, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt. He rubs soothing circles into my skin, and my body, traitorously, begins to relax against his touch. I exhale slowly, feeling my pulse steady.

“She’s off-limits,” Avin growls, his voice sharp with irritation as he glares at the slime ball.

The man’s grin widens, his eyes darting to Onyx’s hand on me. “Off-limits to me?” He lets out a dark chuckle, a sick amusement glinting in his eyes. “But you let that thing touch her?”

“Shut the hell up, Garrett,” a familiar voice snarls, venom dripping from the words.

“Sam?” My heart leaps in my chest as I spot him. “Sam!” I gasp, my voice full of delight.

I instinctively move forward, wanting to throw my arms around him, but Onyx’s grip tightens on my waist, a silent warning. He’s not letting me go.

Sam smirks at me, but his gaze shifts warily to Onyx. “Hey there, baby girl,” he says smoothly, though the tension between him and Onyx is palpable.

Behind me, Onyx’s voice drops low and dangerous, a whisper in my ear. “Don’t push me, Ava.”

Sam’s playful smirk falters as his eyes narrow, locking with Onyx’s. The air between them hums with unspoken threat, and Onyx—always cocky—just smirks back, as if daring Sam to make a move.

“Well, well… isn’t this a sweet little reunion,” Garrett drawls, clapping his hands, clearly amused by the whole spectacle. “Baby sis returns with the prince leech and his merry band of Reapers. So what does that make you now, sweetheart? Their whore? Their pet? Or… maybe their food?” He pauses, a wicked grin splitting his face as his eyes gleam with malice. “Or perhaps… his mate?”

The word mate slithers off his tongue like a poison, and before I can react, there’s a deafening bang. I jump, squealing as a bullet pierces Garrett’s skull, the crack echoing through the air. My hands fly to my mouth, stifling my scream as his body crumbles to the ground.

Avin lowers his gun, still trained on the lifeless body, before swinging it over to Sam.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there!” Sam quickly raises his hands in surrender, eyes wide. “You know I love her like a sister! I would never hurt her, man. I’m on your side.”

Avin’s eyes narrow dangerously. “If you ever betray her, Sam—”

“I know, I know,” Sam interrupts, his voice tight. “You’ll kill me. I’m sure he’ll beat you to it, though.” He nods towards Onyx, who hasn’t stopped watching Sam.

Onyx, still rubbing soothing circles into my back, offers Sam a tight nod. “Smart human,” he says, his voice laced with a warning.

“How c-could you?” I stammer, my voice trembling with disbelief.

My heart pounds in my chest, shocked at the sight before me—Avin had just shot a man in cold blood. And now, with his gun still raised, he was ready to do the same to his best friend without a second thought.

Avin pouts. “Don’t look at me like that, princess.”

My voice hardens, disbelief giving way to anger. “You shot a man. In cold blood!”

“That man,” Avin snaps, his voice icy, “would’ve informed the hunters that the vampire prince’s mate—my sister— is a human. What do you think they’d do to you? To us? I knew I shouldn’t have left you there.” His eyes flash, furious like I should understand.

“What? So, I’d end up like you instead? A hunter?” I spit back, my own anger rising, matching his.

“At least you wouldn’t be walking around with a target on your back! This?” He gestures sharply toward the lifeless body at his feet. “This is nothing compared to what they’ve done. All the innocent humans they’ve slaughtered for their own sick entertainment. And yet here you are—defending them.”

“I’m not—” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“You are!” His voice booms, echoing through the forest. “You stand here on their side, while I’ve been out there fighting for people like us. And you have the nerve to judge me for killing one man to protect you?” His gaze darkens as it shifts to Onyx, his tone laced with venom. “And I’m a thousand percent sure he wouldn’t hesitate to slaughter every one of us here for you.”

The words hang heavy between us. My breath catches in my throat as I glance at Onyx, who stands stoic, unflinching. I know he is right. We all do.

“You’re right,” I whisper, pulling away from Onyx’s comforting presence. His fingers twitch as I step out of his reach, but this time he lets me go. “He wouldn’t. And I—I don’t have the right to judge you either.” My voice falters, breaking. “It’s just that… you’re my brother. That makes it different.” My eyes burn with tears.

Avin’s face softens and without a word, he pulls me into a tight hug. His body is warm and familiar, but the blood on his hands feels like a stain between us. “You know I’d do anything to protect you, right?” His voice is low, almost pleading.

“I know,” I sigh. “I just… I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

Avin lets out a soft, chuckle, rubbing his hand across my back like he did when we were kids. “We are who we are, princess. There’s no changing that.”

I pull back slightly, looking up at him with a frown. “What’s so funny?”

A smirk tugs at his lips, despite everything. “You. You’re actually a real princess, you know.”

I wrinkle my nose, shaking my head at him even as a small smile forces its way through the tears. I smack his chest lightly, feeling the absurdity of it all. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And I’ll keep protecting you, no matter what. Except from mum.”

“Coward,” I stick my tongue out at him.

“Tell us, hunter, how many more of you are out there?” Onyx asks, extending his hand toward me.

With a roll of my eyes, I slip my smaller hand into his, stepping back to his side. Now he’s clingy. Onyx arches an eyebrow, and I know he read my mind. Serves him right.

Avin shoots a glance at Sam, then back to Onyx. “Nearly sixty. Not counting a few dozen rogues.”

“How did you know we were here?” Ace cuts in, sharp and probing.

“Boss got a call this morning.”

“And how exactly did you leave without raising suspicion?” Onyx presses, his eyes narrowing.

“You accusing me of something, leech?” Avin growls, his voice like steel.

“Just seems it wouldn’t be easy to slip away from sixty hunters unnoticed.”

Avin’s eyes flash with annoyance. “I saw the plane land. Saw you carrying her out.” His gaze flicks to me, away. “Then I saw her stomp off with those two,” nodding to the girls. “They seemed friendly enough. I know my sister, and I know this path—it’s the one our family takes when we go camping. The others aren’t aware of it.” He gestures toward the lifeless body on the ground. “He must’ve followed me.”

“I followed him,” Sam quickly adds, nodding toward the same dead bloke.

“Do you know who made the call?” Sirius asks.

“No. I don’t think the boss knows either. We just get calls, locations, and orders. No questions asked.”

“All your rogues are marked?” Theron interjects, his tone cold.

“Yeah. They all follow the boss’s commands. And if you’re gonna ask who’s pulling the strings, we don’t know.”

“Are they guarding Bellary ?” Skylar asks, stepping forward.

“They’re guarding the hill, not the entrance.”

The realization hits me. My eyes meet Avin’s with a mischievous glint. “Which hill?” I ask, my smirk growing.

“Old Pine,” Avin smirks back, fully aware of where this is headed.

Onyx watches me, amused but cautious. “You gonna tell me what you’re planning, angel?”

I grin at him, a wild spark in my eyes. “I know a way to the entrance without going through the hunters.”

“Why not just go through them?” Ace frowns, confusion etching across his features.

“Why kill them when we can outsmart them?” I say.

“Because it’s fun,” Damian chimes in, his grin dark and teasing as he glances at Avin, who rolls his eyes in response.

“It won’t be fun for long,” Sam cuts in, his voice a grim warning. “We got a special shipment this morning, and more hunters are arriving as we speak.”

“Special shipment?” My eyebrows knit together, a sense of unease creeping in.

Sam and Avin exchange a glance, the tension between them thickening. Avin pulls out a fully loaded magazine and removes one of the bullets. It’s wooden, but what really catches my eye is the strange pink markings etched into it.

“Wooden bullets. With some fancy pink shit on them,” Avin says.

“That’s it?” Ace scoffs, unimpressed. “They’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Avin twirls the wooden bullet between his fingers. “This isn’t just any wooden bullet. It’s been specifically crafted to kill vampires.”

“Wooden bullets aren’t exactly a new threat,” Damian says, unimpressed. “What’s so special about these?”

“These markings? They’re enchanted—rumour has it, by an evil fairy. Supposedly the best in the business. Whoever she is, she’s put a hell of a curse on these things. The enchantment makes these bullets lethal. Not only does the wood itself penetrate vampire flesh and slow healing, but when it hits, the magic activates. It ruptures on impact and releases a high dose of nitroglycerin inside you. The explosion would tear through even a vampire’s enhanced healing. By the time your body starts to fix itself, it’s too late. You’re already dust.”

Damian lets out a low whistle.

“So… no getting shot, then,” I mutter, staring at the bullet like it’s death itself.

“Is that better?” Sirius asks Ace sarcastically, his arms crossed as he leans against a tree.

“Guess we’re going around then,” Ace grumbles, clearly disappointed at the prospect of avoiding the action.

Avin steps forward, pulling out a handgun and an extra magazine. “Here, take this.” He presses the weapon into my hand. “Headshots only. Got it?” His eyes flick to mine, and when he sees the hesitation on my face, he adds, “They won’t hesitate to kill you. Just in case lover-boy isn’t around, I need you to promise me you’ll do what’s necessary to stay alive.”

“I… p-promise,” I stutter, frowning at the cold weight of the gun in my hand.

“She can shoot a gun?” Damian asks, his surprise evident. “Wouldn’t aiming for the chest be easier?”

Sam laughs. “She learned to shoot before she could walk.”

“And all headshots,” Avin adds, gloating a little.

“We’ll see about that,” Damian huffs, crossing his arms as if to challenge the claim.

Avin just smirks at him, the tension between them easing. It’s subtle, but something’s changed. Damian isn’t looking at Avin with the same suspicion or disgust as the others. Onyx, ever observant, catches on to this too. I can see it in his narrowed eyes—he knows something. Why can’t I read his mind? I frown in frustration.

“Jealous you might not be the best shooter in the group?” Aurora teases Damian, her smile playful.

He grumbles and waves her off.

Sam gives the lifeless body of Garret a nudge with his boot. “What do you want to do with him?”

“Toss him to the rogues,” Avin answers, his voice cold and detached.

“Wait,” I interrupt. “What about you? I can’t leave you here. Come with us.”

“Luna—” Avin starts, his tone firm, but I cut him off.

“No, they’ll figure out you’re my brother eventually.” My voice is urgent. I can’t just leave him to face whatever mess this has become.

He hesitates, clearly torn. But he knows I’m right.

Onyx steps in, sensing the dilemma. “Meet us at the plane. It’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”

Avin glances at me, and I nod, silently pleading with him to accept. He sighs in resignation and finally agrees with a nod. He grabs Garret by the legs, and Sam takes his arms.

“Brother,” I call out as he starts to leave. He stops and looks over his shoulder. “If you’re not there, I’m coming to get you. Even if I have to go through every last one of them,” I say, my voice steady.

A soft smile tugs at his lips. “I know.”

He turns to Onyx, his expression serious. “Take care of her. If she dies… you die.”

Onyx meets his gaze with equal intensity. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

My heart stutters at Onyx’s declaration, completely catching me off guard. Before I can process the flood of emotions, Onyx leans in close, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers in a deep, lustful tone, “That was so fuckin’ hot. You’ve no idea how hard that made me. You should make threats more often.”

Heat rises to my cheeks, and I feel an unmistakable thrill bubbling up inside me. This man… he’s going to be the death of me.

“Now we’ve got a hunter on our side?” Ace tilts his head, his tone sceptical as he glances at Onyx.

“He’s not on our side. He’s on her side.” Onyx nods toward me.

Aurora smirks, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Then, lucky for us, she’s on our side.”

“Why did you pretend you couldn’t shoot back at the pack?” Everyone else has fallen back, giving us space—probably to give us a moment alone—but I know they can still hear every word.

I shrug, trying to play it off.. “Why let you in on all my secrets? Zuri said any one of you could disarm me. Why didn’t you?”

“The rogue—”

“—has a name,” I interrupt, my voice sharper than I intend.

His jaw clenches, but he stays calm. “I wasn’t going to risk—the rogue with a name— doing something stupid and getting you hurt.”

“Are you ever going to tell me how he died?”

“Quick,” Onyx says, his tone flat, almost cold.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” he replies, softer this time.

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, but it stings nonetheless. And for reasons I can’t quite explain, it hurts more than it should. There’s something he’s not telling me, something he’s holding back. I can feel it. A part of me wants to press, to demand the truth—but another part isn’t sure if I can handle it. Onyx senses my hesitation because he steps closer, his gaze locked on mine.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says, his voice low but intense, as if admitting this goes against everything he’s used to.

“From what?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“From things you don’t want to know. Things that will break you if you let them in.” He steps even closer, his presence overwhelming. “I don’t care how strong you think you are—there’s a line, Ava. And once you cross it, there’s no going back.”

My breath catches in my throat. “And who decides where that line is? You?”

Onyx’s eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “No. You do. But I’ll make sure you never have to cross it, not if I can help it.”

We stand there, the silence between us no longer just tension but something electric, something raw. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s fear, anger, or something far more dangerous.

“I don’t need your protection, Onyx.”

He smirks, but it’s not the teasing one. It’s darker, more bitter. “You may not need it, but you’ll get it. Whether you like it or not.”

Before I can respond, the sound of footsteps approaching breaks the moment. Ace and the others reappear from the shadows, their faces carefully neutral, but I know they’ve heard everything. Onyx takes a step back, slipping back into his usual composed mask as if the conversation never happened.

Aurora’s voice breaks the tension, light and sarcastic as always. “So, are we playing nice now, or do we need another round of bonding?”

I can’t help but snort. Bonding—yeah, right. With everything going on, I feel like I’m one more revelation away from losing my mind. I continue walking ignoring her question and the snickers. I still can’t believe it. Avin, my brother, is a hunter. A killer. The enemy. The bad guy. Or is he? They’re trying to protect the human race, after all. Which begs the real question, who’s actually the bad guy here? The whole thing is so irritating and way too much to process. I mean, come on—I still can’t fully wrap my head around the fact that werewolves, vampires, witches, and fairies are real.

And let’s not forget that I’ve been kidnapped… again. Now I’m marked as—his beloved—with his teeth embedded in my neck as proof. I used to read books to escape my dull, boring life, but now I could probably write one. One thing’s for sure: my life isn’t boring anymore, not with Onyx in it.

---

Chapter 50: The Dark Lord’s Sister Needs A Hobby.

While the hunters and rogues were all huddled up guarding Old Pine, we slipped around back, down an unmarked trail that was practically invisible if you weren’t looking.

“That was easy,” Ace frowns, clearly underwhelmed.

“Don’t look so deflated. You don’t know what surprise awaits us inside,” Sirius says.

That perks Ace up, though he tries not to show it.

At the cave’s entrance, a massive boulder covered in crude red graffiti which looks more like a gatekeeper than a rock. Skylar pulled out a scuffed-up mug, carefully mixing all the ingredients together. We crouch low and wait until the moon peeks out from behind the clouds. It’s almost seven, and our time is nearly up.

“It’s showtime,” Skylar murmurs, handing the mug over to Onyx.

He cocks an eyebrow at her and lets out a heavy sigh, realizing what we all knew.

“None of us can down werewolf venom,” Aurora points out. “It’s either you or Luna.”

Onyx turns to me, and I flash him my best puppy-dog look, putting on the charm. With a disgruntled shake of his head, he pinches his nose and knocks it back in one grimacing gulp. “Fuckin’ foul,” he mutters, shoving the mug back to Skylar. Then he strides over to the boulder, rolling it aside like it weighs nothing.

The moment we step inside, the boulder rolls shut behind us, sealing us in. Without thinking, I jump closer to Onyx, grabbing his arm. It’s pitch-black and frankly, creepy.

“Scared princess?” he asks, teasing.

“Bollocks, no,” I reply, lying through my teeth.

“Right, sure you’re not.”

I roll my eyes. “Right, well, anyone got a torch?”

“Just hold onto me,” Onyx says, completely unfazed. “You’ll be fine.”

I snort. “Oh, sure. And how do I know you’re not about to lead me straight to my doom?”

He shrugs. “You don’t.”

“Brilliant. Such reassurance,” I deadpan, but when he doesn’t reply, my stomach twists. “Wait…you’re joking, right?” Still no answer. “Onyx?” My voice rises an octave as panic starts to creep in.

“Calm down,” he sighs. “You’re safe.”

“Promise,” I demand, stopping dead in my tracks.

“Would that get you to move?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Fine. Promise.”

Inside, the air is unexpectedly warm, with a faint, almost soothing scent of freesia drifting through the darkness.

“Remind me again,” I whisper, eyeing the dark cave warily, “why do we need this flower?”

“To trap the dark crystal,” Onyx replies, his voice low and serious. “One that’s been marked.”

“Marked by the hunters?”

“Marked by someone. Humans are barely competent enough to manage their own messy world, let alone meddle with ours.”

“Comforting,” I mutter, glancing around as the shadows seem to thicken. “So, who did the marking, then? Surely you have some theory.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t call it a theory.”

“So helpful, as usual,” I huff, casting him a sidelong look. After a moment of silence, I add with a drawl, “So…we’re mates, huh.”

“Hm,” he replies, barely acknowledging it.

“Wow, try not to get too thrilled all at once,” I say dryly.

“Didn’t realise I need to throw a party.”

“A little enthusiasm wouldn’t kill you, you know.”

“Enthusiasm? And here I thought you’d be the one panicking about lifelong commitments.”

“Oh, I’m absolutely shaking in my boots. Imagine being stuck with you forever.”

“Careful. That almost sounds like fear.”

“Maybe it’s pity,” I reply. “I mean, you get me, and I’m stuck with—” I gesture to him. “Well, you.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to insult me.”

“Oh, that’s cute. You think I’m trying?” My arm is hooked into his, and despite all the bickering, I couldn’t shake the feeling of comfort and safety that came with it. It was infuriating.

“Keep it up, princess,” he says leading us deeper into the creepy dark cave. “All this bickering feels suspiciously like flirting.”

“Flirting? With you?” I scoff, though I feel my cheeks flush. “I’d sooner charm a brick wall. Probably better conversation.”

“A brick wall wouldn’t make you cum so—”

I slap my hand over his mouth, my face burning from the chuckles echoing around us. “Must you always be this crude?” I remove my hand.

“Part of my charm..”

“What charm? Let’s get this over with and stop touching my hair.”

“Touching your—” A menacing growl suddenly rips from Onyx’s throat as he pulls me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. Just then, a bone-chilling cackle echoes around us, sending icy shivers down my spine. I instinctively ball my fists in the fabric of his shirt, whimpering in fear as my heart races like a wild drumbeat, each thud making every hair on my body stand on end.

“What the fuck was that?” Ace growls, his voice low and tense.

“I-I-it’s an Obius,” Aurora stammers.

“What is an Obius?” Damian asks.

“A woman who eats maidens’ hearts,” Skylar replies.

“Then why is she touching Ava?” Onyx growls, his grip on me tightening protectively.

“She also eats humans... pure of heart,” Aurora adds, fear creeping into her tone.

“Fuck,” Onyx, Ace, and Sirius curse in unison.

“Please don’t let her eat my heart. I need it,” I whimper against Onyx’s chest.

“She won’t be eating shit,” he growls, his voice low and fierce. With a swift motion, he scoops me up bridal style, cradling me against him as if I were the most precious thing in the world.

“Keep an eye out. She could be anywhere. She doesn’t touch Ava.”

We press deeper into the cave, the darkness around us broken only by the steady rhythm of Onyx’s heartbeat beneath my ear. Then, a faint glow catches my attention. I hesitate, slowly lifting my head from his chest, cracking open one eye, then the other, and gasping softly.

Onyx lowers me to my feet, his gaze locked onto me. My fingers found their way to the delicate, velvety petals, brushing them reverently. I take in a deep, heady breath, filling my lungs with the sweet, fragrance that blankets the room.

We step into an egg-shaped chamber, utterly transformed by clusters of freesia in every shade imaginable—white, cream, buttery yellows, fiery oranges, deep reds, blush pinks, soft mauves, and shades of lavender and violet that seem to whisper secrets in their depths. The silver-grey rock walls around us glisten with seeping trails of crimson liquid that look disturbingly like blood, without the scent. Above us, the ceiling sparkles with diamonds and rubies, casting fractured light that dances over the flowers in delicate shards.

In the centre of it all stands a triangular limestone platform, rising like some ancient altar. At its heart, a peculiar blueberry plant took root, twisting and reaching upwards with its disproportioned berries and round purple flowers blooming on woody stems. My eyes widen in recognition. The hole. Coincidence? I shiver, a gnawing suspicion settling over me. Could she be—

Just then, a bone-chilling cackle echoes through the chamber, tearing me from my thoughts. I jump back, clutching at Onyx’s shirt as if my life depends on it. He instantly wraps his arms around me, a low, threatening growl rumbling in his chest. Before I know it, all the Reapers have closed in, forming a protective circle around us.

“That thing gives me the creeps,” Damian mutters, giving an exaggerated shudder.

“That’s the first female I think you ever refused to stick your dick in.” Ace teases him.

“She’d probably bite it off.”

All the guys shiver in unison.

“What in the—?” I gasp, freezing in place.

In front of the triangular platform stands a ghastly, skeletal woman, her skin as pale as death and wrapped in a black robe that clings to her like shadows. She looks like Voldemort’s sister. Her mouth twisted, and a banshee-like shriek rips from her lips as she crouches, ready to attack.

“Looks like we’ve gone and pissed off Voldemort’s sister,” I squeak, unable to tear my eyes away.

“Who’s Voldemort?” Aurora whispers.

“Someone you definitely don’t want to mess with, unless you’ve got Harry Potter backing you up.”

“Less talking, more moving,” Onyx mutters, scanning the room. “We need a distraction. You three get the flower.” He turns to me, his gaze softer for a split second, like he was silently asking if I could do this.

“Right. Time to pull up my big girl knickers. Tit up or go home. I’m ready, I can do this.”

“Ava?”

“Yeah?”

“Angel, you’ve got to let go.” He nods at my hands, which are still fisted in his shirt, knuckles white.

I blink, then look down, mortified. “S-sorry,” I mutter, pulling my hands away.

But before I can pull back completely, he catches my hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to each knuckle, setting my pulse racing. That’s enough to melt my heart. Why is he being this sweet? Is he really Onyx? Did ET get to him? I must be dreaming?

“You’ll be fine,” he says. “And no, you’re not dreaming.”

I swallow hard, cheeks flaming. “Are you…are you actually Onyx? Did ET get to you?”

“I thought you wanted a little more enthusiasm.”

“Yeah well, now it’s weird. I think I like you better as a jerk.”

“Right, lovebirds, any chance we can get on with it before she makes us her midnight snack?” Aurora chimes in, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head toward the terrifying, shrieking woman still crouched like she was about to launch at us.

I swallow hard, glancing at the creature ahead. “Okay, fine, but if I end up needing therapy after this, you’re paying.”

Damian snorts. “Therapy? What happened to that big girl knickers speech from two minutes ago?”

“Oh, shove it, Damian,” I shoot back. “Let’s see how brave you are when Voldemort’s sister has her sights set on you.”

“I’d rather not find out, thanks.” He shudders.

“We’ll handle her while you three grab that flower,” Onyx says.

“Just try not to get hexed, eaten—or whatever it is she does,” I told Onyx a hint of worry in my voice.

“Don’t worry about me, just focus on the flower. You’ll be fine,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before stepping back to join the guys.

For a moment he seems surprised just as much as I am.

I can still feel his warmth lingering on my skin as I turn around, cheeks flushed, only to find the girls staring at me with knowing smirks.

“What?” I ask, feeling my face grow even warmer.

They exchange a glance, shaking their heads innocently. “Nothing,” they chimed, though their expressions said otherwise. Before I can demand answers, Voldemort’s sister’s shriek pierces the air. The guys manage to grab her attention, and it’s already going badly—Damian is the first casualty, sent flying across the room like a rag doll and smacking into the wall with a thud.

“Oooh, that’s got to hurt.” We all cringe in unison. “So, what exactly am I meant to do here?” I whisper, eyes darting to the plant. “Just…run up and grab it, like it’s a loaf of bread?”

“Basically,” Aurora replies with a shrug, though her smile is more than a little forced. “You know…just don’t let her see you. “

“Or catch you,” Syklar adds.

“Right, of course, no pressure there,” I mutter, glancing back at the terrifying woman. “Just dart past a banshee who’s tossing men around like crumpets.”

Aurora gives me a pat on the shoulder. “Think of it as a nice little jog. Like, you’re popping down to the shop for milk, only the shop’s a death trap.”

I grimace, eyeing the flower. “Or maybe I could just shout, ‘Oi, Voldemort’s sister! Your shoe’s untied!’ and hope she falls for it?”

“If that doesn’t work, just try not to die,” Skylar says.

“Brilliant. Thanks for the pep talk,” I mutter, stealing another glance at the guys. Damian still groaning on the floor, and Ace is frantically dodging as Voldemort’s sister takes a swipe at him.

“Go on,” Skylar whispers, nudging me forward. “The quicker you grab it, the quicker we can all get out of here.”

“Right, all right,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Time to be brave—or as close to brave as I can manage while desperately avoiding death.”

I take a steadying breath, my heart pounding loud enough to drown out the shrieks and grunts echoing around the cave. Right then—just a quick grab, no big deal. Only my dignity, sanity, and possibly life on the line. I edge closer, keeping one eye on Voldemort’s sister, who is now stalking around, her robes trailing like shadows.

“Okay, you’ve got this, Ava,” I whisper to myself, inching forward. “You’re quick, you’re clever… you’re not going to die today.”

Just as I was about to make a run for it, I heard Damian’s voice, muffled but amused from where he lay slumped against the wall. “Princess anytime you feel like grabbing that flower would be nice.”.

With one last nod from the girls mouthing, “Go, go, go!”—I take off, darting toward the platform. My boots made a soft scuff against the floor, but she hadn’t noticed me. Yet. I am halfway there, adrenaline spiking.

I finally reach the platform, the flower just inches away. It looks even stranger up close, the berries glistening unnaturally. All right, just grab it, no hesitation. My fingers reach for the stem when a hideous screech echoes behind me.

“Right, plan B!” Aruorua hisses from the sidelines, her eyes wide.

“Plan B?” I mutter in panic, yanking the flower free. “There was a plan B?”

“Run, that’s plan B!” Aurora shouts, practically bouncing in place.

Voldemort’s sister whirls around, locking her cold, soulless eyes on me. My stomach drops.

“Oh, lovely,” I squeak, sprinting back towards the others as fast as I can.

The girls are motioning wildly, urging me to keep running. “Come on, Ava! Pick up the pace!” Skylar yells.

“Not all of us have supernatural speed!” I shout but keep going, legs aching as Voldemort’s sister’s screeches get louder and louder.

Suddenly, I can’t move. My feet are stuck. Glue? Mud? No—golden sand, swirling and pulling me down. Quicksand! I let out a bitter chuckle, the irony not lost on me. If there is trouble to find, I’d be the one to bloody stumble straight into it. My eyes meet hers and I instantly regret looking back. Her eyes glint with an unsettling hunger, as she runs her tongue slowly over her lips.

“Onyx!” I squeal, flailing as Aurora and Skylar grab my arms, desperately trying to haul me free.

She’s gliding toward me—no, floating. She flies too? Seriously?! I clench my eyes shut and hold my breath. But at the last second, Aurora and Skylar give one final, desperate tug, yanking me out of the sand. Before I can catch my breath, Onyx is there, tackling her to the ground in a blur of movement. His fangs sink into her thin, sickly neck. Seconds later, he jerks back, coughing and spitting out a thick, black liquid that clings to his lips like tar.

“Onyx!” I gasp, reaching for him, but Aurora holds me back.

“No!” she whispers urgently. “She’d kill you in seconds. He’s the only one who stands a chance.”

Onyx wipes his mouth, struggling to stay upright, his face twisted with revulsion. She laughs a high, shrill cackle that grates through the cave, searing my ears. As she rises, her eyes glitter with dark delight, as a line of her black, putrid blood trickles down her neck.

“What’s wrong prince?” she sneers, her voice lilting mockingly. “Didn’t enjoy the taste? It’s... an acquired flavour.”

Onyx’s face twists in disgust, but his reply is as deadpan as ever. “So is shit,” he drawls. She let out a furious hiss, her face twisting in anger, but he just gave her a mocking grin. “Fae blood, though... Now, that tastes like honey,” he adds, running his tongue over his lips with a deliberate slowness. It is enough to make her simmer.

Her face contorts, and she lunges at him, claws swiping through the air. But he sidesteps effortlessly, his movements calm, mocking even, as he continues, “You know what’s better, though? Drinking sweet fae blood… while breaking her tender—”

Before he can finish, she shrieks in rage, launching herself at him with renewed fury. She is becoming unhinged, and he’s clearly struck a nerve, but that only makes his smirk grow wider, his stance more daring. Onyx sidesteps her next lunge, his movements smooth, almost taunting. She claws at empty air, her frustration bubbling over in a feral growl.

“Oh, come on,” he jeers, eyes flashing with that infuriating, dangerous amusement. “Is that really the best you can do? I expected a bit more from a self-proclaimed queen of darkness.”

Her eyes blazing, and with an unnatural shriek, she lunges at him again, claws extended, moving faster this time. But Onyx is just as quick, twisting out of her reach and delivering a swift kick to her side, sending her sprawling across the room.

“Looks like you got this Nyx,” Ace says from across the room with Damian and Theron nodding.

Onyx shakes his head at them.

She hisses, scrambling to her feet, her mouth curling into a wicked grin. “Mock me all you want, prince, but you forget... I’m not as fragile.”

Onyx’s smirk doesn’t waver. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” He cracks his knuckles, taking a casual step forward. “But I can’t say I’m impressed, either.”

She lunges again, this time faster, her arms swinging in a frenzied blur. Onyx ducks and dodges, but a quick swipe grazes his cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. He flinches slightly, but his smirk doesn’t falter.

“Looks like you finally got a hit in,” he says, wiping the blood away. “Hope you enjoyed it—because that’ll be the last.”

Her laughter hollow, her voice dripping with venom. “You underestimate me, prince. I’ve killed beings stronger than you for fun.”

Onyx laughs—a low, dark chuckle that seems to rattle the very air. “Then why don’t you show me?” he challenges, voice laced with mock sweetness. “Or are you all bark and no bite?”

She screams in fury, charging at him, her claws flashing as she slashes at him again.. He dodges her attack and, in a single fluid movement, grabs her arm and twists it behind her back, forcing her to her knees. She thrashes, but he holds firm, leaning close to her ear.

“See, there’s one thing you should know about me,” he says. “I enjoy a good fight. And I really enjoy watching the mighty fall.” He glances up at me and I know what he was thinking. I don’t know how or why but I suddenly knew the plan. With a swift, brutal movement, he flings her forward, sending her crashing into the wall. And that was my cue.

I sidestep the quicksand, making a beeline for the platform where the plant waited, all twisted and ominous. I can’t help myself—I fist-pumped the air. Yes! Victory! I snap a stem off.

Instantly, an ear-splitting scream tears through the room, freezing my blood. The shriek is so intense it blasts Onyx, Ace, Damian and Theron off their feet, sending them flying across the room like ragdolls.

“Oh, bollocks!” I gasp. I’m dead. This is it. Game over.

In true, classic me fashion, I trip over my own feet and land flat on my face. Brilliant. I slap my hands over my head, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing myself for… whatever gruesome death is hurling my way. But then the screaming stops. Silence fell, cold and heavy.

Something wet drips onto my face. I crack one eye open—and instantly wished I hadn’t. Black, thick liquid oozes down from above, landing on me with a sickening splat. I scramble back, squealing as I crash into Aurora and Skylar.

There, standing before me, was Onyx, his arm buried through her chest. His fingers wrapped around her blackened, twisted heart, still faintly pulsing as it drips that viscous, inky goo. With a swift yank, he tears his hand free, and her body crumbles to the floor with a sickening thud.

Suddenly all the flowers shrivel and curl up, dying in seconds, except for the stem clutched in my hand with its purple berries and blooming flowers.

I let out a long, shaky breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “Right… this is straight out of the bloody Brothers Grimm.”

Onyx turns to me, wiping his clawed hand, slick with that inky goo, against his trousers as if this were all business as usual. “You okay?”

“Absolutely not,” I reply, thrusting the stem at Aurora, who slips it into a clear canister and tucks it neatly into Skylar’s backpack. Because of course they’d brought along magical Tupperware. Why not?

At this point, I honestly wouldn’t blink if a unicorn pranced by covered in pink glitter, the Tooth Fairy on one side and a leprechaun on the other, lugging a pot of gold. This day had officially hit absurd levels. All the chaos, monsters, and death-defying plants? Just a normal Tuesday, apparently.

I sigh, rubbing my temples. “You know, I should’ve just joined that nunnery after all.”

Onyx raises a brow. “Somehow, Angel, I don’t think they’d have you.”

“Cheeky git,” I mutter.

---

Chapter 51: Labyrinth of No Return.

“Fresh air!” I throw my arms up. “I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to not be surrounded by death traps.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Onyx says.

“Dramatic? Oh, I’m being perfectly reasonable, thank you. It’s just that I quite like living.” I shoot him a glare. “Besides, not all of us have a death wish. I nearly died twice back there.”

Skylar chimed in, counting on his fingers. “Actually three times but, who’s counting?”

“Oh, cheers, mate. That makes it so much better.”

Aurora and Skylar’s laughter bubbled through the air, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile. But then… something flickered in the corner of my eye—a flash of red hair, pale skin, and a hauntingly familiar figure.

Amber?

My heart drops to my stomach, and I stumble back, breath catching. Instantly, I collide with Onyx, who wraps his arms around me, steadying me. He looks down, his expression softening with genuine concern.

“Ava?” Onyx asks gently, his voice breaking through the haze. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I thought…” My voice catches, eyes glued to the empty spot where she’d stood only moments ago. “Amber,” I whisper, barely able to say her name aloud. “I just saw A-Amber…”

A heavy silence settles over us, the laughter fading instantly. All eyes turn to me, their expressions flickering from confusion to something almost cautious.

Aurora steps closer, creasing her eyebrow. “Amber—the human from the pack?”

Ace raises an eyebrow. “You mean the heartless chick who up and vanished?”

“Out here?” Damian mutters, glancing around. He cocks his head with a sly grin. “So… is she hot?”

Theron rolls his eyes and smacks Damian on the back of the head. “She has a hole in her chest.”

Damian just grins, unbothered. “I know.”

“Ew,” Skylar and Aurora chorused, pulling faces.

“She was right there,” I say, pointing toward the spot where I’d seen her. “I swear, she was looking at us, clear as day.”

Onyx’s hold on me tightens. “Ava,” he says firmly, his voice low. “There’s nothing there.”

But even as he says it, the shadows seem to shift, and I see her again—a pale figure, her eyes hollow, filled with something dark, something that sends chills crawling down my spine. She raises a finger, pointing directly at me, her mouth moving without a sound. Run, it seems to say.

I gasp, clutching Onyx’s arm. “Did you see that? She’s there—again!”

Immediately, everyone went on high alert, their eyes sweeping the area.

“Are you sure, Ava?” Onyx asks.

I swallow, still staring at the empty space where Amber had been. “I’m not going mad. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her.” My voice came out in a shaky whisper. “She was… she looked like she was warning me.”

Onyx didn’t take his eyes off me, his gaze sharp and unwavering. “Take a walk,” he says, his voice low and controlled.

With a flash of motion, Ace and Theron vanish into the trees, their movements a blur.

“Breathe,” Onyx says as he slides his hand under my shirt, rubbing my back soothingly. Remarkably his touch is doing the trick. “If she’s out here, we’ll find her.”

“I know what I saw, and it’s her.”

He nods, keeping his hand on my back, his touch steady and grounding. I feel a lot calmer and less afraid. It’s as if he is taking away my fear.

“I don’t understand,” Aurora says. “Why have I never heard of anything like this?”

“Dark magic,” Skylar murmurs. “It’s… unpredictable. It bends the rules of life and death and twists them into something unrecognizable. Sometimes, it can tether a soul to this world when they should’ve crossed over.”

Aurora’s eyebrows furrow. “But I’ve studied dark magic. Nothing I’ve read mentions spirits lingering like this. Is she stuck here, like some cursed ghost story?”

“It’s not that simple,” Skylar replies.

I swallow hard. “Could this be the hunters’ doing?”

Onyx shakes his head. “No. This is different.”

“Different how?” I press on, my heart racing. Part of me dreads the answer.

“When I killed her, she was human, but she didn’t die. That’s not normal, even in the supernatural world. It’s not just dark magic; it’s something more sinister. Whoever did this wants her here, for a reason.”

A chill courses through me at his words. “What could they possibly want with her?”

“That’s what we need to figure out,” he says, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. “And why she’s after you.”

“It’s an ambush—” Ace starts, but before he can finish, gunfire erupts through the night, piercing the silence like a barrage of fireworks with bullets whizzing past us. Skylar acts swiftly, her hands weaving a shield of shimmering energy that flares to life just in time to catch the first volley of bullets.

“Retreat to the cave!” Onyx orders.

Before I can fully process it all, Onyx scoops me up into his arms and dashes toward the cave. The world outside becomes a blur, the sound of gunfire fading slightly as we enter the dark, creepy cave. When we cross the threshold, Sirius pushes the boulder into place with a low rumble, sealing us inside the damp, eerie confines of the cave. The heavy stone thudded shut behind us, muffling the sounds from the outside and plunging us into darkness.

“Everyone all right?” Onyx asks.

“They were surrounding us,” Ace snaps, practically seething. “And I’d really love to know how they managed to know our exact route. Care to explain, Avaluna?”

It takes a second for the accusation to register, and when it does, anger flares hot and sharp in my chest. I can barely see through the darkness, but I still glare in the direction of his voice. “Wait—are you seriously suggesting my brother set us up?”

Ace scoffs, dripping with contempt. “Who else would’ve known exactly where we’d be? Face it, Avaluna. He could’ve led them right to us.”

My fists clench so tight I can feel my nails digging into my palms. “My brother wouldn’t betray me. He wouldn’t sell me out.”

“Wouldn’t he? Everyone has a price. Maybe he just found his.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” I grit out. “He’d never do this. Not to me.”

“Why didn’t we hear them approach?” Aurora asks. “No footsteps, no scent.”

“I didn’t sense any trace of magic,” Skylar adds.

“Or maybe she was in on it,” Damian says. “Was this ghost babe even real, or is this whole thing just one elaborate ruse?”

“You really think I would set this up? That we would do this?” No one answers. “Onyx? You don’t really think I made this up, or that—”

“No,” Onyx finally says, his voice breaking through the tense silence. “You’re not that good of a liar.”

Ace scoffs. “So what—you actually believe her, Nyx?”

“I know if Skylar couldn’t sense their magic, and none of us heard or smelled them coming, and Ava was tipped off by a dead female… then there’s more going on here than any of us realize.”

“Convenient, though, isn’t it?” Sirius says. “A dead female only she could see?”

“I’m not making this up.”

“Maybe not, but people do stupid things for family,” Sirius replies.

“Enough,” Onyx interjects, his tone hard.

“So, what’s the plan then, Nyx? Just ignore the fact that they knew our exact route?” Ace asks.

“The plan is to regroup and get answers before we start tearing each other apart,” Onyx snaps back. “Whoever set this up, clearly knows more about us than they should. We need to be smarter. Wiser.”

“Right. Because trusting a hunter is so wise.”

“Onyx is right,” Theron finally spoke. “None of this is adding up. We’re missing something.”

“Or not seeing the whole picture,” Aurora says. “They still have the Crystal.”

“And the dead chick?” Damian asks.

“That part is freaky,” Aurora admits. “If she tried to murder Ava why warn her about the attack? Which means either we’re being played, or we’re missing a huge part of this.”

“So what are we saying here?” Ace challenges, clearly not convinced. “That this… dead female actually wants to help us?”

“If she wants Ava dead, she had a chance. Why warn her? There’s got to be a reason,” Aurora says.

“So we’re trusting this ghost and the girl who claims her brother isn’t involved?” Sirius asks.

“I don’t care if you trust me or believe me,” I shoot back. “This isn’t my brother’s doing.”

Suddenly, a deafening explosion rips through the air, the shockwave reverberating through the cave walls like thunder. The ground shudders beneath us, the ceiling begins to tremble, and small pebbles and dirt rain down. Then, larger rocks start to fall, crashing onto the ground with bone-jarring thuds, each impact sending tremors through the cave. Dust fills the air, thick and gritty. I can feel my lungs constrict, the air sharp with the scent of crushed stone.

“Move!” Onyx growls, scooping me up in his arms. “Hang on, Ava!”

I clench my eyes shut, pressing my face into his chest as he speeds through the collapsing cave. Then, finally, he skids to a stop, and I open my eyes. My ears ring, and everything muffles as if I am underwater. We’re all covered in thick dust, coughing and gasping for air that tastes of grit and earth. I feel raw, every breath scraping against my throat.

Onyx’s arms tighten around me. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I nod, coughing.

He lowers me gently, my feet touching solid ground, though I still cling to his arm, trying to steady myself. Not that he minds. The dust is thick, stinging my eyes and making it impossible to see much of anything. Not like I could in the first place. I catch a hint of something cool and damp in the air-water.

“Where are we?” I ask, my voice raspy.

“Some kind of maze,” Aurora murmurs. “There are narrow passages branching off in every direction.”

“Whatever this place is, it was built to keep people trapped,” Theron adds. “We need to keep moving.”

“We don’t know what else might be lurking in here,” Onyx says. “Keep your eyes open.”

I take a shaky breath, swallowing down the knot of unease tightening in my throat. “Brilliant. Just what we needed. A maze that smells like a wet tomb.”

Onyx scoops me back into his arms, and off we went, weaving through the maze of doom. I had no idea how long we’d been walking or where we even were, and by now I’d given up counting the twists and turns that had led us deeper into this labyrinth. Skylar has tried using her magic to get a read on the place, but the cave seemed to swallow any trace of her power, leaving us as lost as a pack of blindfolded tourists in a haunted house. So much for magic saving the day. Guess we’re doing this the old-fashioned way—getting thoroughly lost and hoping for the best. The further we got the air got thicker and damp, sticking to our skin like a clammy blanket, and the only sound was the steady echo of our footsteps bouncing off the stone.

“Anyone else noticing the delightful smell of mildew and despair?” I mutter, wrinkling my nose as we trudge along. “Honestly, if this cave were a hotel, it’d be about three stars short of a half-decent review. Charming underground labyrinth with exquisite damp patches, questionable air quality, and a constant sense of impending doom. Quite the selling points.”

“Glad to see your sense of humour is as sharp as ever,” Onyx says.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s all I’ve got left,” I quip. “And really, who designed this place? It’s as if someone said, let’s build a massive stone maze, but make it drippy, miserable, and just confusing enough that you’ll want to hurl yourself at the walls after ten minutes.”

“Are you planning to narrate the entire way out?” Onyx asks.

“I mean, someone’s got to keep up morale. And let’s be honest, I’m only here for the witty commentary. I’m keeping us entertained and distracted from the fact that we’re all likely going to be mouldy by the time we escape this place. Besides, I’d rather go down laughing than silently brooding in the dark.”

Aurora chimes in, a faint laugh in her voice. “Well, she’s not wrong. It does feel like we’re wandering through the world’s dampest tomb.”

“I’m surprised nothing hasn’t tried to kill us or eat us,” I say.

“Careful,” Onyx warns. “The last thing we need is you tempting fate.”

“Oh, please,” I shoot back, waving a dismissive hand. “If anything wanted to eat us, it would’ve been here already. Then again we smell like a wet sock,” I add, crinkling my nose. “Which might be why nothing’s bothered showing up.”

Aurora snickers. “You do have a point. Between the damp and all this dust, we’re about as appealing as soggy breadcrumbs.”

Theron’s voice came from up ahead. “Can we maybe keep the volume down? This place echoes, and if anything is lurking, we don’t want to draw attention—”

Suddenly we hear a shrill cackling that bounces off the stone walls, filling every crevice. It was high-pitched, hollow, and tainted with something almost gleeful, like a predator toying with its prey. The sound seems to swirl around us, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. I freeze, every hair on the back of my neck standing up.

“What-what was that?” I swallow the lump in my throat, grateful I can’t see in the dark.

“Let’s not find out,” Onyx says as we move through the maze a lot quicker this time.

Suddenly the laughter grew louder, twisting into a distorted melody that sent a shiver down my spine. It sounded wrong—too warped, too delighted in a way that made the darkness feel even more suffocating.

“I think she’s catching up,” I say panicked.

“Theron?” Onyx calls out, his voice sharp with urgency. “Tell me you’ve got something.”

Theron pauses for a moment, then replies, his voice steady but laced with tension. “We’re close to something, but it’s hard to pinpoint. I think we’re either underwater or near a body of water, like a flooded cavern or an underground river.”

“Eden River,” I say. “It’s an underground river that flows through the mountain.” Why didn’t I think of that before?

The cackling behind us grew sharper, almost shrieking now, echoing against the walls as if mocking our attempt to escape. I swallow, my heart hammering, the darkness feeling thicker and more oppressive with each step.

“Theron!” Onyx shouts, his voice tense. “How close are we?”

“I-I shit.”

We stop.

“Why are we stopping?”

“There’s three paths,” Theron says. “One of them must lead to the river.”

“The question is,” Aurora says, “which one.”

“Well, this one looks... less like a death trap,” Ace says. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not a trick.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sirus mutters. “It’s too quiet. Like something’s waiting for us down there.”

“We don’t have the luxury of time, so we need to pick one,” Onyx says.

I swallow hard. “So, we just flip a coin? Heads, we get eaten first. Tails, we drown.”

“The path on the left... feels... colder,” Skylar says.

“The middle one... there’s something off about it,” Theron says. “But it feels... almost normal compared to the others. It’s not too cold, not too silent.”

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Onyx says, his voice tight. “Left it is.”

I raise an eyebrow but don’t argue. “Cold and creepy it is, then. I’m sure it’ll be just delightful.”

As we begin down the left path, the temperature seems to drop even more, and the air grows heavier, like we are walking through water instead of stone. I can’t shake the feeling that we are being watched, but there is no turning back now.

“What happens if we choose the wrong path?” I ask.

“Then we deal with it.”

“You mean a showdown with the creepy banshee from hell?”

“Yes.”

“You think it could be another one of those things?”

“We can only hope,” he replies.

“What’s worse than her?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

We round a bend, and the darkness ahead seems to shift. Suddenly, I can see it—a faint glow in the distance. Light, actual light, piercing through the gloom like a promise of something better.

“You were right,” I say, more out of relief than anything else. “There’s light.”

“I know.” His voice is full of that infuriating smugness. I can’t see his face. But I can feel his smirk. I roll my eyes.

The air seems to lighten as we approach, the chill of the cave giving way to something warmer. As we push forward, the narrow passage widens into another cavern, and the glow grows brighter, revealing a large, still pool of water at the centre. The water is dark, almost black, with a slight sheen from the reflected light above. The walls of the cave are slick with moisture, and stalactites hang down like teeth, ready to drip at any moment.

“I guess that’s our way out,” I say inching to the waterhole.

“Seems like it,” Onyx says.

“Look at this,” Aurora says staring at the wall. “There are some strange markings on the wall. “I’ve seen this before…. In those scrolls from the library. It’s an ancient language known only to the Gods.”

“Gods?” I crinkle my eyebrows. “Like Zeus and Athena?”

“Not mythical Gods. The real Gods, the ones that created it all.”

“Can you read it?” Theron asks.

“I can try but I would need more time to decipher it,” Aurora answers. “This right here, she points to a strange symbol, “I’ve seen it a lot in the scrolls. Astra. He was some kind of overseer created by the Gods to maintain balance and order in the realms. But he was corrupted.”

“And why do we care?” Ace asks. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know getting the hell out of here?”

“He wanted to rule all realms,” Skylar says. “But then the Aeromora which translates to Crystal in modern English tongue, imprisoned him. Now let’s get out of here.”

“Sounds a lot like those stories your grandmother used to tell us Nyx,” Ace says.

“What stories?” I ask curiously.

“They’re just tales spun to scare children to sleep,” Onyx says moving over to the water hole.

Suddenly, Onyx freezes mid-step, his body stiffening as his eyes dart toward the tunnel entrance. One by one, the others followed his gaze. I turn, my heart leaping into my throat. From the darkness of the tunnel, a shape slowly emerges, slithering forward like a nightmare come to life. A dark, monstrous figure, its limbs unnaturally long and contorted, scraping against the rocky floor with a grotesque, bone-chilling sound. The way it moves is horrifying, like a spider but larger with purplish skin. A low, guttural growl emanates from deep within the monster’s throat. Its eyes—if it has any—are impossible to see, hidden in the shadowy recesses of its misshapen face, but I can feel it watching us, tracking our every move with chilling precision.

I swallow hard, my pulse racing as the horror. “What the bloody hell is that?” I whisper, barely able to speak.

Onyx’s voice was a low growl, his eyes narrowing, his body tense with readiness. “I don’t know, but I don’t plan on sticking around to find out. In the hole now!”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. My heart is in my throat as the sound of the monster’s claws scraping the stone grows louder. I didn’t think, I just reacted. I dive headfirst into the waterhole.

The cold water hits me like a punch to the gut, shocking the air from my lungs as I plunge under. I kick my legs hard, pushing myself deeper, my chest tightening as I swim toward the surface, desperate to get some air. Finally, I break the surface, gasping, my lungs burning for air as I stare up into the sky. The water feels like ice against my skin, but it is a relief compared to what was in the tunnel. I swim towards land and collapse onto the ground.

“I need a vacation.”

---

Chapter 52: When Pride Falls, Love Speaks.

“Luna!”

“Avin?” I sit up as he and Sam come rushing toward us. “You’re... alive.” He drops to his knees, wrapping me in a hug.

“Not for long if you keep squeezing me like that,” I wheeze, half-laughing, half-gasping for air.

“Did you sell us out?” Ace growls, stepping forward with narrowed eyes.

Avin’s head jerks up, his expression darkening as he meets Ace’s glare. “You think I’d ever betray my own sister?” he snaps back, his voice icy. “We barely made it out.”

“We need to keep moving,” Sam says. “He won’t be far.”

“He?”

“Thorn,” Avin mutters, his voice grim.

Sirius’s eyes widen. “Michael Thorn? He’s here?”

Avin nods. “He flew in just a few hours after you lot left for the cave.”

Onyx’s gaze sharpens, his jaw clenching. “She’s with him.” It’s more a statement than a question.

Avin swallows hard, and for the first time, I catch a flash of fear in his eyes. He nods yes.

“The Crystal,” I whisper, a chill running down my spine as I remember everything Zuri and Onyx told me about her. I’m not sure which is worse—the creature in the cave, or some terrifying, marked Fae.

“There’s a dock not far from here,” Avin says. “My boat’s waiting.”

Onyx gives a swift nod. “Take Ava and head there. We’ll catch up.” He presses a gentle kiss on my forehead, and a jolt of panic surges through me.

“What? No, you’re coming with us!” I say, gripping his arm.

“The rogues and hunters are closing in,” he says calmly. “Aurora and Skylar will go with you. It’s safer this way.”

Skylar frowns, her jaw set. “Are you sure you don’t need me here?”

Onyx glances over at her, his gaze unyielding. “Protect Ava,” he commands. “If we’re not there in fifteen minutes, leave without us.”

“No,” I protest, my voice shaking as I cling to him. “We’re not going anywhere without you guys. I mean it!”

“Trust me. Now go.”

Avin gently pulls me away from Onyx as Aurora and Skylar exchange farewells with their own loves. “Come on, princess,” he mutters, nudging me forward. I drag my feet, casting one last reluctant glance back.

“Try not to die, leech. Or, you know, go ahead and do,” Avin calls over his shoulder.

Onyx smirks. “Don’t miss me too much.” He winks at my brother who rolls his eyes.

We reach the dock, and the sight of Avin’s boat—a small, sturdy thing bobbing in the water—brought no relief. I scanned the trail behind us, anxiety clawing at me. The salty air stings my nostrils, and every crackle of a branch in the forest makes me flinch.

“What time is it now?” I ask for the third time, my voice tight with impatience.

“Still the same time as it was a minute ago,” Avin mutters.

“Onyx said fifteen minutes. It’s been—”

“Eight minutes,” Aurora interrupts, glancing at her watch. “Stop fretting.”

“I’m not fretting,” I snap, even though I was. “What if something happened to them? What if they’re—”

“They’re not,” Skylar says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Onyx can handle himself. So can the others. You’re wasting energy worrying about things you can’t control.”

“Excuse me for caring!”

Avin sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. “Luna, you’ve got to trust him. He isn’t exactly the type to keel over without a fight. Hell, he’d probably outlive a cockroach.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mumble, casting a worried glance over my shoulder. The forest behind us is eerily silent, too silent for my liking.

“Ten minutes,” Aurora says softly, her eyes flicking to mine. “They’ve got five more, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, even though my heart is pounding like a drum. I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling twisting in my gut. “What time is it now?” I ask again.

“Eleven minutes,” Skylar answers.

“Deep breaths, Luna,” Avin says.

“Deep breaths?”

“Yes, because hyperventilating won’t help anyone,” he replies evenly.

“We can’t leave without them,” I say, my voice trembling. “I mean it, Avin.”

He sighs, his gaze softening. “We won’t. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” I shoot back. “You’re already planning to leave them behind, aren’t you? I know that look, Avin.”

“Luna,” he says, his tone sharper now. “We have to follow Onyx’s orders. If he said fifteen minutes, we give him fifteen minutes. Not more, not less.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Aurora steps between us and grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. “They’ll come,” she says firmly. “You need to trust him. Do you trust him?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Then hold on to that,” she says, letting me go. “And stop asking about the damn time.”

Onyx and the others burst onto the dock, rogues on their heels. We barely make it out, the boat tearing away from the shore as the hunters open fire on us. I don’t know how Onyx did it but he got us another plane. Once back in Romania, I say goodbye to Avin and Sam. Avin pulls me into a tight hug, promising to call, though I spent the entire flight trying to talk him into staying. But his mind was already made up.

Finally, back at the estate, I make my way to Onyx’s room and take a nice long well-deserved shower. The moment I hit his bed, exhaustion washes over me, and I collapse, sinking into the softness with a long, relieved moan. The bed feels like pure bliss after everything we’ve just been through.

“If you’re planning to sleep, you might want to avoid making sounds like that,” Onyx murmurs, dropping his towel and slipping into bed beside me.

I groan in response, burying my face in the pillow not to look at him. The lord knows how tempting that man is. He just chuckles, that warm, soft laugh of his, and starts to gently undo the buttons on my nightshirt. I’m far too drained to argue, my limbs heavy and unwilling to resist. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close, our bodies perfectly aligned. My back presses into his chest, and I can feel his steady heartbeat, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my hip. Our legs tangle like we’ve done this a thousand times before. And as his warmth surrounds me, I realize with a quiet ache just how perfect this feels. It’s unsettling, really—how safe and right it is lying here, wrapped up in him. But beneath that comfort, a thought lingers. I know, deep down, that perfect moments like this are rarely built to last.

“Onyx?”

“Hmm?” he replies, his voice a soft rumble against my shoulder.

I hesitate, my heart pounding, and then I ask, almost in a whisper, “You’re never letting me go, are you?”

His entire body goes rigid, and I feel the shift instantly. He pulls back just enough to turn me onto my back, his gaze locking onto mine. But one feeling rises above the rest, unmistakable and cutting, pain—deep, agonizing pain.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice barely a murmur, laced with a vulnerability I’ve never heard before. “Do you want to leave me?”

I’m speechless, caught in his gaze, feeling the weight of his question pressing down on me. Slowly, his hand comes up, his thumb brushing softly over my cheek as if he’s afraid I might vanish beneath his touch.

“No,” I finally whisper, the word barely audible, but the truth of it heavy in the air. “No, Onyx. I don’t want to leave you.”

Relief flickers in his eyes, and he lets out a breath he’s been holding, leaning down until his forehead rests against mine. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t think I could let you go, even if you did.”

He cups my face, his lips brushing against mine, tender and searching like he’s trying to memorize every detail. And when he kisses me, it’s filled with an intensity that steals my breath away—a quiet promise wrapped in every soft touch, every lingering moment.

“I need you to know,” he whispers against my lips, “you’re everything to me. I’ve never felt this... terrified and alive all at once.”

I pull him closer, feeling his heartbeat against mine, and in this stolen, fragile moment, I know that he’s right. Whatever this is between us, it’s as wild and uncontrollable as a storm.

“Then why do you say all those mean things? All those biting comments, the sarcasm, the... the constant teasing.”

His lips press into a thin line, and I see something shift in his expression—a flicker of vulnerability beneath that usual smirk. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, clearly wrestling with himself.

“Because,” he says, his voice low, almost pained, “if I let myself fall completely… I don’t know if I could handle what that would mean.” He meets my gaze, and his eyes are filled with an intensity that takes me by surprise. “It scares the hell out of me, Ava.”

“So… you push me away? That’s your grand plan?”

A faint, wry smile tugs at his lips. “It sounds ridiculous when you say it like that.”

“Because it is ridiculous, Onyx,” I murmur, reaching up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw. “You don’t have to hide behind those walls with me..”

He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch as if it’s the only thing grounding him. “I’m trying, Ava. For you, I’m trying.”

A small smile breaks through, and I press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Then stop fighting so hard,” I whisper, drawing him closer. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Okay,” he says as he claims my mouth.

This kiss is different—gentle but deep, filled with a warmth that feels like he is pouring his entire heart into it. His lips move against mine softly but possessively, as if he wants to memorize every detail. When he deepens the kiss, exploring my mouth, I melt into him, a soft moan escaping me as I pull him closer if that is possible. When he finally pulls back, our lips are swollen. I let out a quiet whine, and he chuckles, low and rough.

That’s so hot.

“Is it now?” he smirks

“Ugh, stay out of my head.” I pout. “When are you going to teach me how to read your mind?”

He rolls off me and onto his side. I turn to my side to face him as our limbs tangle up. “Alright, focus on me, and only me. Clear your mind of everything else. Close your eyes, and try to feel my presence—not just here, but in your mind.”

I close my eyes, trying to do as he says, but nerves get the better of me, and I peek. “This better not be some prank where you make me look silly,” I mutter, half-joking.

He chuckles, his hand finding mine. “Trust me. Just relax and focus.”

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes again, reaching out mentally, trying to sense something more than just his physical touch. A faint warmth spreads, and suddenly, a murmur of his thoughts reaches me, soft but unmistakable.

Not that hard is it?

My eyes fly open, excitement sparking. “I heard you! I actually bloody heard you!”

He grins, his eyes full of pride. Good. Now try speaking back. Think of what you want to say and focus it towards me.

I close my eyes, concentrating as hard as I can. This is incredible!

His grin widens. See? It’s easier than you thought.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

“So, can you read everyone’s mind?”

He shakes his head. “No… only yours. Because you’re my beloved.”

My heart skips. It’s the first time he’s called me that, and I want to bask in it—but then the doubt creeps in, uninvited. He doesn’t really want you, my mind whispers, echoing the harsh words he said to me. The memory stings and I feel tears prickling, doubt gnawing at my happiness.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, noticing the shift in my expression. His fingers brush away the tears that threaten to spill as he kisses my eyes, my nose, my forehead, each touch gentle and grounding. “I didn’t mean it. The second I said those words, I regretted them.” His voice cracks. “I was furious at myself because I lost control. In marking you, I made you a target. And the thought of putting you in danger—losing you—terrified me.” He closes his eyes. “What I said back then was my own damn pride talking, and I hate myself for it. Don’t ever believe for a second that I don’t want you.”

I swallow hard, letting his words sink in.

“I wanted you from the first moment you stepped off that bus,” he says, his voice low and rough, “wearing those tight jeans that hugged you like a glove, with your hair blowing wild in the wind… that apple and vanilla scent drove me insane. Every part of me wanted to taste you—from head to toe.” My cheeks flush, and I look away, feeling the heat of his gaze, but he tilts my chin back up, his fingers gentle but unyielding. “And I wanted to make you mine,” he murmurs, his voice thick with regret. “I was too stupid to see past my pride. I’ve been an ass, Ava.”

A small smile tugs at my lips as I take his hand in mine. “If you’re hoping for me to disagree, don’t hold your breath.”

He chuckles softly, and for a moment, all the tension melts away, leaving only the two of us—two flawed, messy people trying to find a way through it together.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he says. “I thought I had everything figured out. I thought my life was perfect. I had it all—everything I ever wanted, everything I ever desired. I took what I wanted when I wanted. I lived each day like I owned the world. Life couldn’t get better. I was the arrogant, self-satisfied prince with everything... until I saw you. “His thumb gently strokes my cheek, and my breath catches in my chest as his words settle in. “The moment I saw you, everything changed. I thought I knew who I was—what I wanted. But when you walked into my life, I didn’t even realize what I was missing, what I’d never had. This... feeling, I don’t even have words for it. It fuckin’ kills me to be apart from you. I should’ve done this the second I laid eyes on you. I should’ve fallen to my knees and begged you to make me yours.” He pauses, his voice thick with conviction. “I love you, Avaluna Chesmore. More than life itself. I’d die for you. I’ll protect you with every last breath in my body. And I’m sorry... I’m so fuckin’ sorry for every moment I hurt you. God, baby, I love you. I love you so much.”

I didn’t even realize I was crying until his fingers gently brushed the tears away. My heart is racing, every part of me feels like it’s about to explode.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he murmurs softly. “I know it’s a lot. It’s... it’ll take time for you to—”

But before he can finish, something snaps inside me. The words spill out uncontrollably, raw and desperate. “I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!” I sob, not even knowing what’s happening, just feeling every ounce of emotion that has been building up inside of me pour out.

And for the first time in a long time, I truly believe him.

---

Chapter 53: He loves me.

I crash my lips into his, my teeth sinking into his bottom lip, tasting that sweet, tangy flavour that’s become so familiar to me. His mouth parts for me, our tongues clashing in a battle for dominance. He’s taken aback at first, but quickly recovers, reclaiming control with a growl that sends a shiver down my spine.

When the kiss finally breaks, we’re both breathless, our lips swollen and red. His forehead presses gently to mine, the tenderness of the gesture making my heart swell. Desire, adoration, and deep overwhelming love flood my chest. I can feel his love for me, undeniable, and a smile spreads across my face, one I can’t quite contain.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he murmurs, his voice husky.

His lips begin trailing down my neck, slowly, almost reverently. He kisses the curve of my collarbone, each kiss sending a jolt of heat through me. When his lips find my breasts, he pauses, taking his time, his attention entirely devoted to each sensitive bud, his touch worshipful. My breath hitches as he moves lower, kissing, biting, sucking his way down my body, each touch making me ache with need. Then, without warning, he spreads my legs and buries his face between them. I gasp, arching off the bed as waves of pleasure ripple through me, my hands fisting the sheets as I moan. His mouth moves with expertise, his tongue sending shockwaves through my body. The sound of his growl vibrates through me as he continues, sucking and teasing with a skill that leaves me breathless. When my orgasm crashes over me, I scream, unable to stop the flood of pleasure. He swallows every drop of me, looking up at me as he does. His eyes are filled with satisfaction, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. I shudder as I descend from my high, feeling every part of me quiver.

He flips us over so that I’m straddling him now, and his hands grip my hips. “Ride me,” he growls, his voice thick with desire.

I move, aligning myself with him, rubbing the tip of his swollen cock against my wet slit, feeling him twitch in my hand. His groan is low and impatient.

“Stop teasing me and get on it!” he demands.

I raise an eyebrow, my lips curling into a playful smirk. “You don’t like it, do you?” I push him back onto the bed, lick my lips, savoring the control I have.

He growls playfully, slapping my ass, making it jiggle. “Get on my cock,” he commands a hint of challenge in his voice.

I tilt my head, teasing him. “You’ll regret that.”

His grin is pure mischief. “I think you’re the one who’ll regret it when you’re sore and walking funny. You wouldn’t want dick for days.”

I chuckle softly, rubbing him against my clit, feeling him throb in my hand. “Ha. Your dick’s like Chinese food—an hour later, and I’m starving again.”

He laughs. “That’s the sodium, baby. And my dick is nothing like Chinese food. If anything, it’s like a twelve-inch steak—fills you up and leaves you sleepy.”

I smirk, lining him up at my entrance. “We’ll see about that.”

“Oh, baby, we will,” he grins devilishly at me, and before I can react, he thrusts up into me, lifting my hips off him, only to slam me back down with a force that leaves me gasping. “I’ll make you eat every one of those words,” he growls, and my body shudders at the raw, intense promise in his voice.

He winks at me, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’ll let you have your fun for now,” he murmurs, his voice low. “But when you’re done, I’m fuckin’ you until the only name you remember is mine.” A shiver runs down my spine, my chest rising and falling with anticipation. His smirk deepens, and he spanks me again, a sharp sound that echoes in the quiet of the room. “Fuck me, baby.”

Without thinking, I respond, moving instinctively, my body finding its rhythm as I roll my hips. His eyes never leave me, dark with desire and watching my every movement closely. A thrill rushes through me, knowing how much control I hold over him in this moment. His body reacts, every muscle taut with desire as he groans, unable to tear his gaze away.

I speed up, lifting and dropping with a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure through me. The way he feels—so deep, so perfect—makes me lose myself in him, my body responding in ways I never knew possible. He sits up, snatching my swollen bud in his mouth, nibbling and chewing. I close my eyes, head tilted back moaning in pleasure. I quicken my pace slamming down harder and harder on his raging cock. My fingers digging into his shoulders.

Onyx releases my nipple and watches me bounce wildly, holding me securely to him, growling and grunting in satisfaction, “Fuck you’re beautiful,” he growls, his words full of awe and desire.

His intense stare on my body is driving me crazy. I can feel my muscles tensing and my core heating up with an electrifying wave of pleasure firing down my spine His eyes never leave mine as I ride him, the connection between us more profound than anything I’ve ever known. I feel the tension in my body, the waves of pleasure building, a rush of warmth that floods my core. And then, with his command, everything snaps.

“Fuck yes, cum for me baby. Cum on this cock,” he growls.

I feel that sweet spasm ripple through me as I clench around him. He takes a single claw and slits the side of his neck. Blood dripping down. Instinctively I clamp onto his neck and begin sucking. The tangy-sweet warm liquid flows down my throat as I ride out my orgasm feeling elate and satisfied.

I remove my lips and his neck instantly heals. I frown.

“That’s enough for now,” he chuckles softly, brushing his thumb across my lips, wiping away the blood before guiding it into my mouth.

I suck gently on his thumb, tasting the remnants, and his approving growl sends warmth through me. He growls pleased at my reaction. The world outside fades away, and it’s just us—lost in the moment, in each other. His gaze is soft, filled with love and adoration, and I can’t help but smile at the depth of it. Every time he kisses me my world stops, leaving just the two of us. The way he holds me in his arms I feel safe, content, and complete. He strokes my back up and down soothingly and begins kissing that spot on my neck.

“Falling in love with you was the easy part,” he whispers, his breath warm against my skin. “Admitting it to myself was the hard part... Fuck you’re perfect.”

I cup his face, tracing the lines of his jaw. “I know I’m not your first, but I’m so glad I’m your last.”

“I would’ve been your last, whether you liked it or not,” he smirks as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

I laugh softly, reaching up to playfully smack his chest.

He chuckles, then buckles his hips beneath me, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Who says you can stop, princess? I haven’t had my fill of you yet.”

I laugh, the sound light and free, as I begin moving again, savouring every moment of it. The heat between us is absolutely scorching, our bodies slick with sweat, pressing and rubbing against each other. His lips worship every inch of my skin, every kiss laced with both tenderness and raw desire. He whispers things in my ear, dirty words that make me shiver. He is insatiable, like he’s trying to make up for all the lost time as if this moment is the only thing that matters. And to be honest, it’s hard to disagree.

We’d been at it for hours, but it didn’t seem to matter. We are still going, relentless in our hunger for each other. I can’t quite explain it, but I have a kind of energy I didn’t know I had as if something inside me has come alive. The first time I drank from him, I hadn’t really thought about it, but now... now, I felt different. Revitalized, even. I begin buzzing with a strange energy, and even my hangover is completely gone.

It was impossible to tell who was worse—him or me. We are both addicted, craving the other like we’re a drug we can’t quit. Every time his fangs sank into my skin, I saw stars, the pleasure overwhelming. It feels like one of those trashy romance novels, the ones that make you blush and squirm, but—honestly—this was a million times better.

Every touch, every kiss, is electric. His passion is primal and untamed, and I love it. I love the way my small body melts into his, the way our lips fit together like puzzle pieces. I couldn’t believe how easily he had me wrapped around his finger, how a single touch from him rendered me helpless and weak in the best possible way. And when he whispered “I love you” in my hair, holding me close, I realised I’d never felt so safe, so cared for. I hadn’t expected this. Not in a million years. But now, as I lay there with him, tangled in his arms, I wouldn’t change a thing. Not a single second. And for once, I feel completely, utterly, and perfectly at home.

We eventually drift off to sleep, with him still inside me tangled together, not wanting to be apart. Honestly, I can’t say I mind. I crave him just as much as he craves me. I’d never felt more loved, more adored, in my entire life. My heart is full, and my mind is spinning—how had I ended up here? In love with a Vampire Alpha Prince? Bloody hell.

Suddenly, a loud banging on the door startles me awake.

“What the fuck,” Onyx’s voice rumbles beside me.

I hum contentedly, nestling my head back into the crook of his neck, inhaling his deep, intoxicating scent. We’d fallen asleep curled up together on our sides—my chest pressed against his, my leg wrapped around his waist, and him still inside me. His arms coiled around me, protective and possessive, making me feel safe and cherished. No rush to go anywhere, just tangled up in each other’s warmth, the soft tingles on our skin lulling us back into sleep. But then, the banging on the door starts again. Louder this time.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Onyx groans, his body stiffening as he reluctantly starts pulling out of me and untangling us.

I whine, pressing my knee down to stop him. “Nooo.”

He freezes, halfway out, before pushing back into me, and I gasp, my body igniting with a rush of sensation. I’m sore, but I don’t care. I want more.

“Onyx,” I moan, rolling my hips to meet his.

He groans, cursing under his breath, but doesn’t stop me. The banging continues, more urgent now. I know he has to go, but I’m being selfish.

“Baby?” He murmurs, his voice straining as if he’s asking for permission to leave me.

“Do you have to?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I promise, if it’s not life or death, that person is dead.”

I giggle, knowing full well he means it. “How about you break an arm and come back to bed to finish what you started?”

“What I started? You’re the one grinding on me.”

“You’re the one who insisted we sleep like this.”

“You’re the one who didn’t want me to pull out.”

“Pfft, semantics.”

He laughs softly, pressing his forehead to mine. “God, you’re fuckin’ amazing. I love you, angel.”

“I love you too, mi amor,” I reply in my best Spanish accent, watching as his eyes darken with lust, and he twitches inside me. The effect of my words is immediate, and I can feel him harden even more.

When I was little, Mum always spoke to us in Spanish, and though I hardly ever used it, the words slipped out so naturally when I was with Onyx.

“Fuck, I thought your English accent was hot,” he groans, leaning in to kiss me, but then the banging comes again.

He growls, pulling out with a murderous look on his face. “I’m going to murder that person,” he mutters under his breath, and I stifle a laugh at his whining.

He grabs his pants off the floor, kissing me on the forehead before heading for the door. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move. And when I get back, I’m going to make you scream those words in that sexy accent of yours.”

I giggle. “Hurry.”

“There’s nothing that’s going to stop me from coming back to you,” he says, half playfully, half a promise.

I grab his pillow and cuddle it to my chest, burying my face in his scent—the rich, earthy notes of sandalwood and pine and a hint of chocolate chip muffins that were uniquely him. I inhale deeply, my heart fluttering with excitement as memories of the night flash through my mind. I laugh softly, feeling like a teenager who just had her first kiss. All the bite marks were gone, healed as if they never happened. It was like he couldn’t get enough of my blood, and though it scared me sometimes, I knew he fought the urge to take more.

He loves me.

I couldn’t believe it.

Onyx Kayli Dreklaus loves me.

I squeal with happiness, letting the soothing scent of his pillow lull me back to sleep. My body is deliciously sore and drained from everything we shared. I sigh contentedly, drifting off into a dreamland filled with him—his touch, his scent, his love. I was finally off this rollercoaster.

---

Chapter 54: The Unseen Threat.

I let out a lazy yawn, stretching my arms above my head, arching my back until I feel the satisfying crackle of sleepy bones coming back to life. A surge of energy runs through me—rejuvenated, refreshed, and starving. I giggle as my stomach growls, and sit up slowly, rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes.

What in the…

It takes a full second for my groggy brain to actually register what I was seeing. And when it did, well… bloody hell. My jaw drops, in disbelief and bafflement.

I am in a tiny, cosy little house that smells like magnolias and freesias. The walls look like actual tree bark, dotted with trailing vines and patches of moss. Quaint wooden lanterns dot the room, casting a warm glow, and the floor is made of clay, of all things. I lay on a bed on a soft, hand-knitted green quilt, wrapped up in Onyx’s ridiculously luxurious black silk sheet.

I blink.

Then I blink again, just to check if my brain is having me on. This couldn’t be real. This is the stuff of fairy tales and fantasy novels, not actual life.

I squeeze my eyes shut, so hard I start seeing black spots, and mutter to myself, “This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t bloody real.” Because surely, if I wasn’t dreaming, I’d well and truly lost the plot.

“You can open your eyes.”

I squeal and nearly shot out of my skin at the little voice. “What in the bloody carnations?” I gasp, clutching a hand over my chest. There, in front of me, was the little girl with sparkling forest-green eyes and her braided sunflower-blonde hair draped over her shoulder. “Oh, bugger.”

She let out the most adorable giggle and skips over to me. Instinctively, I pull my legs up to my chest. Brilliant, Luna. Scared of a five-year-old. My inner voice scoffs.

Oh, sod off.

“It’s about time he claimed you. I was wondering how long he could resist the bond.” She beamed up at me, looking all innocent and angelic.

Wait. Claimed? Bond? Was she talking about Onyx and his mark? And how on earth did I get here?

She seemed to notice the lost expression on my face and sighs. “I am an Aeromora,” she announced in an accent I couldn’t quite place. “Which translates to Crystal in your language.”

“You’re a-a fairy.”

“Yes, Luna human.”

“It’s just Luna.”

“Just Luna?”

“My name is Luna. Jus- Luna. My name is Luna.”

“Luna.”

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me anything you like. Give me a name!” she squeals, clapping her hands like this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.

“A… name?” I stammer.

“Yes!” she laughs, practically vibrating with excitement. “I always wanted a human name!”

“Um… how about Mary?”

She scrunches her nose.

“Ashley?”

She gave a little shake of her head, wiggling her nose.

“Alright then… how about Lia?”She tilts her head, giving me an inquisitive look. “Because you smell like magnolia,” I say, surprising even myself.

Her eyes lit up, and she claps her hands again, absolutely delighted. “Lia it is,” she declares.

And despite being a potentially dangerous fae, she looks so innocent I couldn’t help but think of her as just a cute little kid.

“Alright then, Lia.” I clear my throat. “You were explaining?”

“You are Avaluna Chesmore. Prince Onyx Kayli Dreklaus’s true mate—his predestined match, chosen by Selina, the Moon Goddess herself. You were born to be his female, his beloved, his queen, his true love, his—”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there, kiddo.” I raise my hands, cutting her off. “I am not his female, beloved, queen, or true love. We barely know each other, alright? I’m not ready for… for all of that.” My heart’s racing, and my cheeks are flaming.

It feels like someone’s just shoved me into a bridal gown and sent me down the aisle with no warning.

But then, my pesky subconscious pipes up. You told him you loved him, didn’t you? What did you think was going to happen?

Yes, alright, I love him. I do. But this—this feels like a whole other level of commitment I wasn’t ready for. Like I’ve been tricked into getting married.

“You already accepted and completed the bond,” Lia says, “by mating and feeding from each other.”

Oh, bloody hell. The warmth crawling up my neck spreads to my cheeks. I’m sitting here, having this sort of conversation with a child.

“How does a kid know about—”

“I am over four centuries old,” she interrupts, folding her arms like I’m the idiot here, “with more knowledge and life experience than you can possibly fathom.”

My jaw drops. Four centuries? And she’s using words like fathom? Alright, smart kid—or whatever she is.

“This form,” she continues, her tone calm and deliberate, “is one carefully chosen to be pleasing and non-threatening to females. It aligns with their nurturing instincts, fostering a sense of comfort and ease in my presence.”

“Brilliant. Since we’ve got that sorted,” I say, “care to explain why I’m here? And how I even got here?”

“You are here because I need to protect you. Our bond demands it.”

“Protect me? Bond?” I raise an eyebrow. “What bond?”

Please say James Bond.

She looks unimpressed. “You and Prince Onyx have completed the bond. Your compassionate heart and kind nature made you worthy. You saved my life. Because of this, I am eternally yours. You could have asked for anything in return, but you did not. That deems you worthy.”

“Worthy of what, exactly?”

“To be my master.”

I freeze. “Yeah, no. I don’t want to be anyone’s master. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Her expression turns solemn. “You are rejecting me.”

“No, no, no. I’m not rejecting you. Absolutely not. It’s just—” I pause, searching for the right words, though they seem to be playing an elaborate game of hide-and-seek in my brain. “Look, I don’t want to be anyone’s master. That feels... weird. Like, what am I supposed to do? Carry a whip? Wear a crown? Issue decrees like, ‘Fetch me my tea and biscuits immediately!’ I’m not built for that kind of thing.” I take a deep breath, words tumbling out faster now. “And let’s not even get started on the responsibilities. Do you know how many plants I’ve killed? I can’t even keep a basil plant alive, let alone be in charge of someone’s entire existence. What if I muck it all up? What if I accidentally tell you to do something ridiculous like organize my sock drawer alphabetically? Not that socks even have letters—well, unless they’re branded, but that’s beside the point. And another thing. I’d have to deal with the guilt. You’d be looking at me all obedient and loyal, and I’d just feel like a tyrant. Like some deranged overlord from a bad Netflix series. I mean, come on, me? A master? I don’t even own a pet because I can’t handle that level of commitment. My goldfish died, and I cried for three days straight.”

A smile spreads across her face. “Excellent! Now we can begin.”

“Didn’t you hear my speech?”

“I did. You accept me.”

I let out a heavy sigh and facepalm myself. If she suddenly starts calling me her precious. I’m out.

“How did I get here?”

“You walked,” she says simply like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I walked?” I arch a sceptical eyebrow at her.

This little one might be a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Or worse... maybe she really is Gollum. Bloody hell.

“I called you, and you walked here,” she explains, as if I should be applauding her logic.

“Right,” I drawl, giving her a once-over. “And how exactly did you get my number, hmm?” My eyes narrow suspiciously, scanning her for a hidden phone. “Actually, scratch that—why on earth would I leave wrapped in nothing but a bloody sheet? Bit breezy for that, don’t you think?”

She tilts her head, unfazed by my growing disbelief. “You were sleepwalking.”

I blink. “Oh, well, of course. That makes loads of sense,” I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I often sleepwalk into mysterious treehouses after receiving phantom calls from fairies.” My gaze darts around warily. “This is how it starts, isn’t it? Next thing I know, you’ll be whispering about the precious.”

“I do not follow?”

I stare at her, utterly dumbfounded. She looks so innocent and harmless like butter wouldn’t melt. But that’s how they get you, isn’t it? One minute, they’re all big doe eyes and dimples, and the next, you’re caught in some unholy quest involving rings and caves. Bollocks.

“Never mind. You say you’re here to protect me—protect me from what, exactly?”

“I am… uncertain.”

“Uncertain? Brilliant. That’s exactly what you want to hear. So, if you don’t know, how on Earth do you even know I need protecting?”

“The bond.”

“The bond? Oh, right, of course, the mystical, all-knowing, completely vague bond. And it doesn’t bother to fill you in on the why part?”

“The bond does not disclose its reasons.”

“Well, that’s just marvellous.”

Her expression remains annoyingly placid as she replies, “The bond guides, but it does not explain. It is… instinctual.”

“Instinctual?” I repeat. “Oh, lovely. So now I’m being safeguarded by a four-century-old toddler running on vibes. Smashing.”

“I assure you, I am far more capable than your tone suggests.”

“Capable of what, exactly? Cryptic half-answers? Because you’re nailing that,” I shoot back, arms crossed. “What if the threat is, I don’t know, a hangnail or a bad hair day? Will the bond give you a little nudge then?”

“That is not how the bond works. I would not concern myself with trivialities.”

“Trivialities? Trivialities?! I’ll have you know a bad hair day can ruin everything. And don’t even get me started on hangnails—absolute menace.”

“Your humour is noted, though not particularly useful,” she deadpans. “This is not a matter to be treated lightly.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m absolutely taking this seriously. Who wouldn’t?”

“I am here to protect you, Avaluna Chesmore, regardless of your flippancy.”

“Well, isn’t that reassuring? If sarcasm could kill, I’d already be six feet under.” I sigh pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fine, Miss Bond Whisperer. If you’re so sure this mystery danger is out there, how about a hint? Is it big, small, invisible? Do I need garlic or a cricket bat? Give me something to work with.”

“The bond will inform me when the time comes.”

“Oh, perfect. I’ll just put my life on hold and wait for your magical bat signal, shall I?”

“That would be wise.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Of course it would. Wise. Practical. Completely sane. Why not? Just add it to the growing list of things I didn’t ask for but apparently have to deal with.”

“Good. Now, let us proceed.” She grabs my index finger with a tiny hand, tugging me toward a little red wooden door embedded in a bloody tree trunk.

“Hold on a minute,” I splutter, blinking at the colossal oak tree before me.

Its gnarled bark is cloaked in a thick layer of green moss, with ivy winding lazily up its trunk like nature’s jewelry. The tree’s enormous branches stretch out like welcoming arms, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. Above, golden beams of sunlight piercing through the dense canopy, scattering patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. We are surrounded by towering trees, their trunks sturdy and ancient, etched with timeworn grooves. The ground is a soft carpet of fallen leaves and pine needles, dotted with vibrant patches of mushrooms and wildflowers in hues of lavender and gold. The air is crisp and carries the earthy scent of damp wood and fresh foliage, with a hint of something sweet—honeysuckle, perhaps, or wild berries growing unseen.

“You… you literally live in a tree?!”

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly, as though it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Seriously?” I gape, gesturing at the towering trunk. “This is the twenty-first century! Isn’t this a bit… stereotypical? I thought fae lived like humans now—flats, Wi-Fi, Amazon Prime?”

“Many fae have integrated into human society,” she replies, her tone lofty, like a professor correcting a particularly dim student. “However, crystal fae prefer the sanctuary of the forest. It aligns with our nature.”

“Oh, of course it does,” I mutter under my breath, adjusting the sheet still wrapped awkwardly around me like some deranged toga. “Makes perfect sense. Who wouldn’t want to live in a damp treehouse when they could have central heating?”

She ignores my grumbling, her small hand still wrapped firmly around my finger as she leads me through the forest. Her tiny strides are determined, and I can’t shake the feeling I’m being marched to my doom. Please don’t let this end with me having to punch a kid-sized fae. That’s not exactly a story you tell with pride. Unless, of course, she transforms into Gollum. In that case, all bets are off.

I sigh heavily. What’s one more bizarre chapter in my already ridiculous life? Kidnapped by a four-century-old fae child. Absolutely marvellous. How many people can say that, eh? One thought hits me like a slap. Onyx. He’s going to lose his bloody mind when he realises I’m gone. And knowing him, he’s probably already tearing through Romaina, ready to fight everything from witches to squirrels. What a day this is turning out to be.

---

Chapter 55: Gone Without a Whisper.

~Onyx Dreklaus~

“I swear, Ace, if this is some nonsense, you’re a dead man,” I growl, grabbing him by the collar as my fangs lengthen.

The monsters inside me were clawing, gnawing, demanding I return to her. They crave her as much as I do. Who would have thought this would be me? In love with a human. Fuck, I still can’t.

“You know I wouldn’t dare interrupt the newly mated couple,” Ace says cheekily, a grin plastered on his face.

My wolf liked Ace, strangely enough. But right now? He wouldn’t hesitate to rip him apart if it meant getting back to our beloved. Our mate. Our princess. Our everything. My monsters were already utterly ensnared by her, and worse, I am too. I’m fucked.

I growl again, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. “Ace. Talk. Now.”

“Alright, alright! Calm your fangs,” he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You’ve got a visitor.”

“A visitor?” My voice drops dangerously. “Ace…”

Before I can connect my fist with his face, he blurts, “The princess is here!” His eyes dart nervously to my raised fist, one open, the other squinting shut in preparation for impact.

I release him with a frustrating groan, dragging a hand down my face. The monsters inside me weren’t helping; they clawed at my thoughts, filling my head with vivid images of her. I adjusted myself, cursing under my breath. “Fuck.”

Ace, the absolute prick, wiggled his eyebrows with that infuriating grin. “She’s that good, huh?”

“Ace,” I growl low, the warning clear.

“Just asking.” He laughs, stepping out of arm’s reach as I grudgingly left my wing.

The sound of heated voices reaches me from the staircase.

“What do you mean I can’t?!” Persephone hisses.

“Exactly what I said, princess,” Sirius replies firmly. “The prince is—”

“Onyx!” she interrupts, slipping past Sirius and throwing herself into my arms. “Thank the gods you’re safe. I was so worried!”

I peel her arms off me, careful not to let my growing impatience show too much. “Why are you here?” My tone came out sharper than I intended.

Persephone flinches slightly but masks it quickly. “I came to see you. I missed you.” She leans in to kiss me, but I turn my head.

The hurt in her eyes was undeniable. Even in my worst moments, I’ve never refused her touch before. But now? The idea of it made my stomach churn.

“Oh,” she whispers, stepping back, her head lowering. “So it’s true then?”

“Spit it out, Persephone.”

“You’re mated. You chose a beloved.” Her voice was thick with disdain. “And don’t bother denying it—I can smell that human all over you.” She scrunches her nose as if the very thought disgusts her.

My hand shot out, gripping her hair tightly as I yank her head back. “That human is your princess. My beloved. My female. And if you ever speak about her like that again…” My voice drops to a deadly whisper. “You don’t need me to tell you what’ll happen, will you?”

Fear flashes in her eyes before she tries to regain composure. “Are you… punishing me?”

A dry laugh escapes me as I release her. “Punishing you? For what?”

“For what Father made me do!” she cries. “I didn’t want to spy on you. You must believe me!” She reaches out, her hand trembling as it nears my face, but I step back, keeping the distance between us.

“This has nothing to do with your father—”

“Then what?” she snaps, cutting me off. “You’re just going to throw everything we had away?”

I raise an eyebrow, my voice cold. “Everything we had? Persephone, all we did was fuck.”

“You know it was more than that!” Her voice breaks. “I saw it in your eyes!”

“What you saw,” I say, my tone razor-sharp, “was a man giving in to lust. You were convenient. You were a good lay. But that’s all it ever was and will be.”

“But—”

“There is no but!” My voice thunders silencing her. She whimpers, her defiance crumbling under the weight of my anger. “You belong to my brother. He is yours, and you are his. The sooner you understand that, the better.”

Her voice cracks with desperation. “Tell me one thing. Did you ever care for me? Even a little?”

“You knew what this was,” I say, my tone unforgiving. “Those days and nights were enjoyable, yes. But they meant nothing to me. My brother may be a bastard, but he loves you. He can give you what I can’t.”

“But I want you!” she cries, her voice petulant.

“You can’t have me,” I say, each word deliberate, final.

“Why not?!”

“Because she has me. She’s my fuckin’ life, Persephone. I love her.”

The room falls silent, my declaration reverberating in the air. Ace grins like an idiot, making a whipping motion with his hand. Sirius and Theron exchange knowing looks as they held their beloveds, while Damian nods approvingly.

Persephone’s gasp was audible, her hands flying to her mouth as if I’d struck her. The look of utter horror on her face was almost comical.

“I don’t have time for this.” My voice was icy. “Stay for the night or leave. Aurora will show you to your room.” Without another glance, I turn and leave, the only thing on my mind—her.

When I return to the room, I immediately notice the door ajar. My steps falter. I distinctly remember closing it. Did I forget? Maybe I did. Shrugging off the thought, I shut the door behind me, tugging my shirt over my head, anticipation bubbling under my skin. Fuck, I sound like some love-struck idiot. Fine, maybe I am whipped, but who the fuck cares? As long as I get to wake up with my cock buried in her warm, tight—

I stop mid-thought.

The bed is empty.

The sheet—gone.

A creeping unease grips me, and I sniff the air, searching for her scent. The room is saturated with us—her perfume, our mingled sweat, and the faint, tantalizing trace of blood from last night. But her fresh scent? Too faint.

“Ava?” I call out, my voice low and tense.

No answer.

I strode to the bathroom, pushing the door open. Empty.

My jaw tightens, and I stalk toward the closet. Still nothing.

The unease turns into something sharper, more primal. My monsters stir, restless and growling in the back of my mind. They didn’t like this. Neither did I. She was out there somewhere, naked, wrapped in a fucking sheet, and far too vulnerable for my liking. The thought of someone seeing her—touching her—ignited a firestorm of possessive rage in my chest. If anyone so much as looks at her the wrong way, they are dead. I slam open the room door and storm into the living area, my eyes scanning every corner.

“Ava?!”

The silence claws at my nerves.

She isn’t here.

She wouldn’t leave like this. All her clothes were still in the room. So why the fuck wasn’t she in my bed where I’d left her?

Where she belonged.

I bolt down the hall, her faint scent barely lingering in the air. It isn’t enough.

“Aurora! Skylar!”

The main room buzzes with laughter as Aurora and Skylar sit comfortably on their beloveds’ laps, teasing Ace and Damian.

I barely notice.

She isn’t here.

My monsters roar inside my head, their agitation like a storm battering my skull. They don’t like this. They don’t like her absence, and neither do I.

“Nyx, what’s wrong?” Ace’s grin disappears, his tone serious as he straightens.

The laughter dies instantly as everyone faces me, tension thickening the air.

“Where is she?” I bark at Aurora and Skylar, my voice rough and razor-sharp.

“Who?” Skylar blinks in confusion.

“Ava.”

“Isn’t she with you?” Aurora asks, her expression shifting to alarmed.

“I left her in bed,” I snap, my frustration bubbling into something dangerous. “But she’s gone. Find her.”

The growl in my voice isn’t entirely human, and I feel the claws of my monsters scraping at the edges of my control. If anything has happened to her—if anyone dares touch her—I wouldn’t just kill them. I’d obliterate them.

The room explodes into motion. Aurora and Skylar immediately sprang from their beloved’s laps, their earlier amusement wiped clean. They knew better than to question the fury radiating off me.

“We’ll split up and search,” Sirius says. “Scan the lower levels. She couldn’t have gone far.”

I storm out before anyone can ask more questions, my movements sharp and feral. My monsters claw at my mind, snapping and growling. They didn’t just want her found—they wanted her safe, in my arms, wrapped in my scent.

They want to hunt.

I pause in the hallway, breathing deep, straining to find a thread of her scent amidst the maze of corridors. Her delicate fragrance teases my senses, faint and maddeningly elusive.

Think, Onyx.

“Where the fuck are you, Ava?” I mutter, fists clenching.

Ace jogs up beside me. “Any trace?”

“Barely,” I growl.

“She wouldn’t just leave,” he says, voice steady but unsure.

“She didn’t leave,” I snarl, cutting him off. “Someone must have taken her. Or she’s in danger. Either way, I’ll kill whoever’s responsible.”

“Skylar is interrogating the princess, while Damian is ensuring she wasn’t followed. In case she was planted as a diversion. We’ll find her.”

I bolt down another hallway, sniffing the air again. Her scent grows stronger as I near the back staircase. It’s faint, but it was enough. I tore down the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding, the primal need to protect her driving me forward. The lower levels were dimly lit, the cold stone walls lined with ancient tapestries. The scent trail led to a small door at the far end of the corridor.

I didn’t hesitate.

I throw the door open, revealing the chill of the night air. Her scent hits me like a punch to the gut—stronger now, but still frustratingly scattered, tangled with the sharp, earthy smell of the forest beyond.

I step outside, my feet crunching against the gravel, my monsters stirring violently inside me. They didn’t like this. I didn’t like this. I growl low, the sound more animal than man.

“She’s out there,” I say, my voice a cold promise.

Ace looks toward the dense forest, his jaw tightening. “If she’s been taken, they wouldn’t get far. We’d sense it if they crossed the perimeter wards.”

“Then she’s still close.” The air feels wrong—too still, too quiet. The usual hum of nocturnal life was absent, replaced by an oppressive silence that only heightened my unease.

“Aurora and Theron are checking the upper wings,” Ace says, his tone calm but edged with tension. “Sirius and the guards are covering the main floor. We’ll find her.”

Find her? The words felt hollow. I didn’t want reassurances—I wanted her. Without another word, I took off into the woods, following the faint trail her scent left behind. Branches snap beneath my feet, the cold air biting at my skin. My monsters roar with every step, their fury feeding mine. Ace calls out behind me, his voice fading into the distance, but I don’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The trail twists and turns, weaving through the dense forest, but it’s growing weaker, fading like a whisper. I force myself to slow down, inhaling deeply, trying to catch even the faintest hint of her.

Nothing.

I stop in the middle of a small clearing, my chest heaving. The moonlight filters through the trees, casting shadows that seem to mock my desperation. Her scent is gone—like it had been swallowed by the earth itself.

“Ava!” I shout, the sound echoing through the forest.

Only silence answers.

My fists clenched so tightly that my claws dug into my palms. The monsters inside me thrashed, their frustration mirroring my own and making it harder for me to think. I was seconds away from shifting and losing all control.

“She wouldn’t just vanish,” I mutter, my voice barely above a growl. “Someone took her. Someone has her.”

Ace’s eyes scan the clearing, his expression grim. “We’ll find them. And when we do…”

“I’ll tear them apart,” I finish, my voice ice-cold.

The promise hung in the air as we stood there, surrounded by the oppressive stillness of the forest. I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t rest. Not until she is back in my arms, where she belongs. And when I find whoever dared take her, they’d wish they’d never been fuckin’ born.

---

Chapter 56: A Truth Undone.

Twelve days. Twelve agonizing, torturous fuckin’days. And not a single trace of her. It’s as if she’s evaporated into the ether, leaving behind nothing but a hollow silence. I left her sleeping, her breathing soft and steady, only to return to an empty, ice-cold bed. She was gone. No one saw a fuckin’ thing—not my crew, not the maids, not even the guards stationed at every exit. At first, I thought vaguely that maybe she ran. That she’d somehow slipped past everyone and bolted. But then Damian pulled the security footage, and the truth hit the face.

She wasn’t taken.

She hadn’t run. She’d need to be awake first.

She had sleepwalked right out the front door, draped in nothing but a sheet, her movements eerily calm, almost deliberate. And then she vanished into the forest. I tore through her medical records, desperate for answers. But there was nothing—no history of somnambulism, no obscure sleep disorders. It made no sense. We searched every waking moment, combing the forest, the surrounding towns, and every inch of this godforsaken land. And yet, it was as if she’d been plucked from the earth. But I know she’s alive. I feel it in my bones. She isn’t hurt. She’s out there, somewhere, just out of reach. And it’s driving me out of my fuckin’ mind. The not knowing. The emptiness. The sheer helplessness. Every second without her feels like an eternity, an unbearable ache that gnaws at my sanity. Where is she? And why can’t I find her? The thought claws at my mind, sharp and relentless, until I let out a bitter laugh, one that tastes more like ash than humour. If someone had told me I’d end up like this—obsessed, desperate, tethered to someone like my very existence depended on it—I would’ve called them insane. Me? A mate? A beloved? A human? I would’ve laughed in their face.

But here I am. A fuckin’ wreck. I’m pacing like a caged animal, one step away from unravelling. Every hour that passes feels like a fresh blade slicing into what’s left of my patience. My hands itch, my chest burns, and the dark, simmering rage threatens to consume me whole. I could set this whole fuckin’ place ablaze—burn it all down, just to feel something other than this suffocating emptiness.

Just to find her.

just to bring her back. Because without her, I’m not just losing my grip—I’m losing myself. I never believed in this whole mate bullshit. The idea that someone could just waltz into my life and completely dismantle everything I am—everything I thought I was—always sounded like nonsense meant for fools. I didn’t want it. I didn’t need it. Fuck, I fought against it.

But then she happened.

She wasn’t some grand revelation, some shining beacon of destiny. No. She crept in, quiet and unassuming, until one day I looked at her and realized I couldn’t breathe without her. And now? Now I’m here, drowning in this maddening need to have her back, hating every second of this weakness, this goddamned ache.

She’s mine.

The universe gave me something I never asked for—something I didn’t even believe was real—and still, it feels like a cruel fuckin’ joke. She’s out there somewhere, and I can’t get to her. What kind of mate am I if I can’t even protect my own mate?

Mate…

She’s my mate.

My beloved.

My curse and salvation.

And I’ll burn the entire fuckin’ world to ash if that’s what it takes to find her.

“Is it true?!”

The door slams open, and the almighty king storms in, his fury radiating like a thunderstorm. Behind him Octavius the prick, and Persephone, all grim-faced. The vein on my father’s forehead pulsing dangerously, a warning of the explosion brewing beneath his skin. Uncle Matt stood quietly beside him with a disappointing look on his face.

I didn’t even flinch. I sat slumped on my throne, staring into space. “Be more specific,” I growl, the words dragging out of me like gravel.

The room around us was chaos—an unholy mess that mirrors the storm in my head. What used to be a throne room now served as our makeshift war room. Damian was buried in his laptops, his screens glowing with grainy footage and streams of data. He’s working his magic with facial recognition, scouring every camera feed, every goddamned corner of the human world for a glimpse of her. Skylar’s locator spells have been a cruel joke with brief flashes of her location, only for her to vanish again like smoke in the wind. It didn’t add up. She was human. Theron had his theories and he and Aurora were buried in books, flipping through ancient texts like they could find salvation in their pages. Ace and Sirius were making calls, their voices sharp and urgent, trying to shake answers out of anyone who might know something. Books, files, spells, theories—it was all useless. None of it mattered because none of it brought her back. I searched that cursed forest until my patience snapped, and my hope frayed. It makes no fuckin’ sense. She’s human. She couldn’t have gotten far, not on foot. Ten minutes. That’s all it had taken for her to vanish. Humans don’t just vanish into thin air. Not without help. But the way she kept appearing and disappearing, like a ghost slipping through the cracks of reality, made one thing painfully clear—she wasn’t alone. Someone had her. Someone who didn’t just take her but has the power to keep her hidden. Magic. Whoever it is, whatever they are, they’re playing a dangerous game. Because magic or not, it’s not going to save them. When I find them—and I will find them—they’ll wish they stayed hidden in the shadows they crawled out from. Because there’s no force in this world or the next that will stop me from tearing them apart. Piece by fuckin’ piece.

“You’re human,” my father spat, the words dripping with disdain.

“Leave,” I snarl, my voice a guttural roar that echoes off the walls as I stand from my throne, “before I rip your fuckin’ throat out!”

My vision blurred, the world around me painted crimson as my eyes burn with fury. My claws twitch, desperate to tear through flesh, to feel the hot spray of blood against my skin. The hunger is there, gnawing at the edges of my sanity. I can feel them—my monsters—lurking just beneath the surface, their jagged edges pressing against the fragile barriers I built to keep them at bay. The walls were cracking. Splintering. Each passing day without her was another fracture in my control, another piece of myself slipping further into madness.

Twelve days. Twelve fuckin’ days.

I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. Even the scent of blood, once intoxicating, now makes me sick to my core because it wasn’t hers. It didn’t belong to her. Some fuckin’ vampire I was—cursed with this insatiable craving and yet starving myself like a fool. I laugh bitterly in my head, a dark, hollow sound that doesn’t belong to me. Pathetic. That’s what I’d become. The almighty Hybrid Prince was brought to his knees by a mere human girl. A girl who haunted my every thought, who burned through my veins like fire, and whose absence had turned me into this... this hollow, unrecognizable shell of who I once was. I should’ve been hunting, fuckin’, striking fear into anyone foolish enough to cross me. Instead, I was here, unravelling, breaking apart piece by piece, driven mad by the void she left behind.

I slammed my fist into the wall, the stone cracking beneath the force, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. I wanted to destroy everything in my path. To rip apart the world until there was nowhere left for her to hide. No shadows for whoever took her to cower in. Because she wasn’t just mine.

She was my anchor.

My undoing.

My salvation and my curse.

And if she wasn’t in my arms soon, there wouldn’t be anything left of me to save. When I find her—and I will find her—there will be no mercy for those who dared to take her from me. They’ll learn, as the world will, that there is no wrath greater than that of a monster brought to ruin by love.

“Shit,” Uncle Matt muttered under his breath, his unease palpable in the tense air. His voice low but urgent. “Octavius, the boy is—”

“I know exactly what he is,” my father cut him off, his tone razor-sharp, dripping with barely contained fury.

I didn’t even bother looking back at him. Instead, I let my head rest against the cold, cracked wall. If I did turn to face him, Octavius—my prick of a brother—would be down a parent. I didn’t think I’d regret it.

“My boy,” Uncle Matt’s voice tight, as he took a slow, measured breath. “Is—Is she yours?”

I know exactly what Uncle Matt was asking. Predestined mates weren’t supposed to exist anymore. At least, that’s what I’d always believed. Yet here she was—Ava. And she was the only explanation for why I’m so violently drawn to her, why the pull between us feels like a force of nature, relentless and consuming.

I slowly turn to face my father and uncle, the weight of the question heavy in the room. The look in their eyes hit me like a hammer blow. It wasn’t concern, nor the kind of pity or frustration I’d expected. It wasn’t even the simmering anger I knew my father was capable of. No, what I saw in their eyes was far worse.

Recognition.

They knew. They knew something I didn’t. The silence that stretched between us feels suffocating as if the very air in the room had thickened with the weight of unspoken truths. It wasn’t a look of surprise, but something deeper—something older. A kind of acknowledgement that made my blood run cold. They weren’t just worried about me or what was happening to me. They were terrified.

I let out a dark, bitter laugh, the sound harsh and hollow. “The better question is, What are you not telling me? Because you both already know my answer.”

My father’s jaw twitches, his eyes flicking away from mine, and I can feel the tension crackle in the air like static before a storm. “If he had done as I asked, this would’ve never happened,” my father mutters, almost to himself.

Uncle Matt doesn’t hesitate. He shoots back, his voice sharp with accusation. “Would you have chosen another over her?”

Father’s eyes turn to fire, and before anyone can blink, he has Uncle Matt by the collar. “Don’t fucking start.”

“Start?” Uncle Matt’s voice is a growl, deadly and low. “It’s already started. Look at him! Does it look familiar to you? I’d know that look anywhere, and so do you!” His voice breaks through the air like a whip. I’d never seen my uncle this furious, not once in my life.

Father’s grip tightens, but then, slowly, he releases him. His eyes lower, his voice barely a whisper. “He should’ve listened.”

They were hiding something. I could feel it, the secrets buried beneath their words. But I didn’t have the time or the patience to unravel this shit. My mind is consumed by only one thing now—Ava. I didn’t care what my father or uncle were hiding. She is out there. And I am going to find her.

“This human of yours… is she with child?” My father’s voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding.

No… I don’t think so…

Fuck.

I hadn’t even considered it, the thought never crossed my mind. How could I have been this stupid? My heart skips a beat as panic sets in, and a cold wave of dread sweeps over me. She can’t be. It’s too soon, too fast. The chances of her being pregnant were slim to none. Royals took decades to conceive. My mother hadn’t gotten pregnant until twenty-four years after mating with my father. No, it’s not possible. It can’t be.

“For your sake, let’s hope not.” His voice softens to a level that sends a cold shiver down my spine. The last time I’d heard him speak like that was the very first day I met him.

At that moment, I knew this wasn’t just about me. This was about Ava. Whatever he was hiding—whatever secrets he had been holding from me—wasn’t something that could be easily dismissed.

Fuck. Me.

“Octavius, tell the boy. Or I will,” Uncle Matt sighs, his patience clearly thinning.

“You will not!” My father’s voice cut through the room like a whip, sharp and commanding. He straightens, his gaze locks on Uncle Matt with a fierce intensity. “There is still another way. If she is not with child, he can still mate Persephone.”

“What?” My brother’s eyes went wide, his shock so evident it looks almost comical—but I wasn’t laughing. “She’s mine!”

My father’s expression darkens, his lips curling in a snarl. “She was never yours, boy. That girl is—and always will be—in love with him.”

“But, father!” Octavius’s voice cracks, desperation creeping in. “You promised her to me!”

“I promised her to your brother first. If he hadn’t rejected her, none of this would’ve happened.”

Octavius didn’t seem nearly as shocked as I expected. Instead, he let out a dark, mocking laugh. “That explains a lot,” he says, amusement lacing his tone. “You were hoping to make him jealous by promising her to me.” The grim expressions on my father and uncle’s faces gave him the answer he needed. “You were never going to make me king, were you?”

My father and uncle remain stone-faced, their stoicism unwavering. Even my crew stood there, stunned into silence. Fuck. Under any other circumstances, I’d have been laughing my ass off—one, because of the priceless expression on Octavius’s face, and two, watching my father’s carefully laid plan unravel in front of him. He really thought I would choose her—that I’d let him play me like that.

“Take her as your female and end your suffering,” my father commands, his tone shifting from icy to venomous, completely ignoring the devastation on Octavius’s face. When I didn’t immediately respond, his patience snaps, and he growls low, his anger seeping through. “You have no idea what you’re doing, boy! Must you always be so damn stubborn? I’m trying to save your life! Make her yours before it’s too late!”

The desperation in his voice was almost palpable. It was clear—he was no longer speaking about me or Ava. He was speaking from a place of fear, of something darker than I could even begin to understand. What are you hiding old man?

“Save my life?” I scoff, my voice dripping with disbelief. “You’re talking about saving me, but you’re the one who’s been hiding something from me this entire time.”

“You don’t understand,” my father mutters, almost too softly, his voice tinged with something I’d never heard before—regret? Fear? “It’s not just about you. It’s never been just about you.” His eyes flickered to Uncle Matt, then back to me. “There are bigger forces at play here. Things that go beyond your understanding.”

I take a step forward, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “Then make me understand. I’m done being kept in the dark. If Ava is part of some twisted plan of yours, then tell me, now.”

Uncle Matt, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up, his voice low but firm. “It’s not what you think, boy. You’re tangled in something much deeper than a simple mate bond.”

“You don’t have the luxury of questioning me, not right now. You think you’re in control, but you’re not. You’ll learn the hard way if you don’t stop being so damn stubborn,” my father snaps. “Mate Persephone and you will thank me later. It’s not too late.”

“Oh, I beg the differ.”

For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. I was terrified to blink, afraid that if I did, she’d disappear. But there she was—standing before me in a cute little sundress and sneakers, of course. Only she could pull that off, looking effortlessly stunning. Her short platinum blonde hair framing her face like some kind of angel sent from a place I couldn’t even imagine. Her skin was radiant, glowing as if she had been kissed by the sun, and her eyes—those eyes—were filled with everything. So many emotions I couldn’t even begin to name, all crashing into me at once, like a wave pulling me under.

I watched her throat work as she swallowed, her heartbeat quickening. Then, she ran to me. I barely have time to react before she jumps into my arms, her legs wrapping tightly around my waist, her arms snaking around my neck. And then her lips are on mine, desperate, hungry, needy. The world around us stops. The air, the sounds, everything. All I can hear is her breath, her heartbeat against me. It takes every ounce of restraint not to take her right there, to lose myself in her. She’s back. My heart is back and I’m never letting her go.

---

Chapter 57: Heir to the Curse.

~Avaluna~

I moan into his mouth, the sound raw and desperate, as my body trembles under the weight of his touch. God, I miss him. The moment I saw him, my heart shattered. He looked like a ghost of himself—skin pale and sickly, dark circles shadowing his eyes, faint purple veins threading around their edges like cracks in porcelain. His hair was a chaotic mess, strands tugged in frustration until they stood every which way. He looked broken, and I hated it.

“I love you,” he murmurs against my skin, his lips trailing over every inch of my face, each kiss a whispered confession. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” His voice cracks as he presses his mouth to my temple, my jaw, my nose. Then, he kisses down the line of my throat, his breath shuddering as he inhales my scent.

That’s when he froze.

His entire body went rigid. His head lowers, his lips just brushing my collarbone before he stops altogether. Slowly, I unwrap my legs from around his waist, my breath catching.

“We need to talk.”

“We sure do,” his voice a whisper as he stares at my still flat stomach in disbelief and shock.

How am I going to tell you?

“Tell me what?”

I freeze, momentarily forgetting he could hear my thoughts.

My gaze flickers to his father and the man standing beside him—a striking figure with wheat-blonde hair, piercing sky-blue eyes, and a face carved with sharp, elegant features. He offers me a warm smile. I force a polite smile in return before focusing on the king.

“Do you want to tell him?” I say, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade, “or should I?”

His father’s eyes widen, shock flashing across his face. He hadn’t expected me to know. But the moment passes quickly, and his jaw tightens in resolve. “There’s nothing to tell,” he says curtly. “It’s too late now.”

“Then you should at least have the decency to disclose why he is on the verge of losing everything,” Lia says as she skips into the room, a carefree smile dancing on her lips.

The atmosphere shifts instantly. Everyone in the room tenses up and then looks as if they are ready to strike. Onyx shoves me behind him, his body coiling with protective fury.

“Oh, for the love of—” I roll my eyes, stepping out from behind him. “She’s harmless.”

“She’s a crystal,” Onyx growls, his voice low and dangerous.

“Her name is Lia,” I corrected sharply. “And she’s ours.”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Ours? What are you talking about?” He drags a hand down his face, his voice dropping to a resigned groan. “Tell me she’s not bonded to you.”

“She’s not bonded to me?”

Lia giggles, the sound light and entirely unhelpful.

“Ava,” Onyx groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as his frustration mounts.

“See?” I say to Lia. “Told you he wouldn’t go full Kill Bill on you.”

“That is solely due to your presence,” Lia states in a matter-of-fact tone.

Onyx’s gaze sharpens, his expression darkening. “She’s the one who took you, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” I admit, sighing. “But—”

“She took you,” Octavius interjects with a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and jagged. “I should’ve known. From the moment I met you, I knew there was something off. There was no way he would’ve fallen for a nobody.”

“Octavius.” Onyx’s warning growl carried enough venom to make the air hum with tension.

“She is not a nobody,” Lia states with sudden intensity. “She is his predestined—your future queen.”

The room erupts in stunned silence. The blonde girl’s jaw nearly hit the floor, and Octavius stares at me like I’d sprouted wings. The reapers stand frozen. But the king and the blue-eyed man beside him didn’t seem surprised or shocked. Their faces betray nothing but calm understanding, as if this revelation wasn’t a revelation at all. My eyes dart to Onyx. His lack of surprise felt like a betrayal.

“You…you knew?” My voice trembles with something between hurt and fury. “How long?”

“For a while now,” he admits quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

I stagger back, the weight of his words hitting me like a physical blow. “And you just let this happen?” My voice rises, sharp and accusing as I push away from him. “You knew, and you let this happen?”

“I didn’t want to believe it,” he says, his voice strained. “Predestined mates don’t exist anymore. I thought… I hoped it was just a mistake, even when all the proof was staring me in the face.”

I laugh, the sound hollow and bitter. “You’re un-bloody-believable. Do you even care what you’ve done? That you’ve destroyed not just my life, but the lives of our children as well? Or is that just another thing you didn’t want to believe?”

“Children?” His gaze drops to my stomach again, this time with a flicker of realisation. His eyes widen as the truth seems to settle over him. “Triplets? We’re having triplets.” The shock on his face is undeniable, his breath catching as he stares at me like the ground had just shifted beneath his feet.

“I’ll never get to see my babies grow up,” I whisper, my voice breaking as my eyes well with tears. My lips tremble, and the thought claws at my chest like a living thing. “If they even get the chance to grow up at all.”

“Ava?” His voice is soft and uncertain as he reaches out toward me.

“Don’t touch me!” I snap, stepping back and brushing away a single tear with trembling fingers. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to me. You should have just let me go.”

More tears spill over, unbidden and unstoppable, as the weight of it all comes crashing down. Onyx stands there, frozen, confusion etched on his face. “Why do I have a feeling I’m missing something here?”

“He is unaware,” Lia states. “While he is evidently cognizant that you are his predestined mate, he remains oblivious to the existence of the curse.”

“What curse?” Onyx asks.

“This is all just a sham,” the blonde girl snaps, her voice laced with venom. “It’s clear the human is the mastermind behind this,” the blonde continues, her gaze now fixed on the king, her tone growing more insistent. “The crystal has fabricated this false predestined bond. My king, you cannot allow this to stand.”

Octavius spoke up next, his voice cold and calculating. “She’s right, Father. How do we know she isn’t working for the hunters? And how do we know the crystal isn’t under the influence of the mark? How do we know this isn’t some trap to control the great Prince Onyx and his precious Blood Reapers? They’d use him to take the throne, then kill him—and the reapers—all at once. Two birds with one stone. Everyone knows they fear him more than anyone else,” he went on, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Why else keep him alive for all those months? That can’t be a coincidence, not when you know what he’s capable of. And then, after all that time, she vanishes for twelve days—and magically reappears two days after the fae king captures the Dark Fae? It’s all too convenient.”

“The crystal must have chosen her because she knew of her relationship with the prince,” the blonde hisses.

I can practically feel the jealousy rolling off her, thick and suffocating. It burned in her gaze, the kind of glare that said she believed she had some sort of claim over Onyx. It makes my blood boil. She has no right. Onyx is mine, and I hated the way she looked at him. I can practically hear the words forming in my mind—Mine. Onyx must’ve sensed my anger, the possessiveness seeping through my every thought.

Without a word, he pulls me closer, his presence a solid wall at my back. His voice slips into my mind, warm and reassuring. I’m only yours, angel.

Did you tell fake-ass Barbie over there that? I scoff.

I did.

You did? I stared up at him, surprised.

“Did you know she was his predestined mate, Crystal?” the king asks Lia.

“And when did you two meet exactly?” the blue-eyed man asks, his curiosity sharp, as if trying to piece together the puzzle.

Lia’s voice was monotone and factual. “Predestined mates emit a distinct scent once their souls make contact. We encountered each other in the forest, and I pledged myself to her after she rescued me from a trap.”

“The bond was there before she met the crystal,” the blue-eyed man says, turning to the king, who nods in agreement.

A mocking applause rang out from Octavius. “Bravo. Even I believed that,” he sneers, waving dismissively at me and Onyx. “But you think anyone would buy this? Predestined bonds are extinct, for fuck sake. It still doesn’t prove a damn thing. Come on, brother. Think with your head, not your dick. She’s obviously had you wrapped around her finger since day one. This has all been part of her plan. That’s why you’re still alive. That’s why the crystal chose her as her master—because she knew you had a hard-on for her. For all we know, those things inside her might not even be yours.”

“Octavius!” Onyx’s growl was lethal, like a predator about to strike. His fists clenched at his sides, his entire body tense with fury.

Before anything else could escalate, I quickly step forward and grab onto his arm, holding him close, grounding him. I could feel the heat of his rage, but under my touch, he’s calm, if only slightly. His glare, however, remains murderous as he stares at his brother. Octavius smirks. Bastard. I should let Onyx beat his ass.

“Predestined mates are formed for a specific purpose. Few individuals are fortunate enough to experience such a celestial bond with another, and those who do should honour it,” Lia states, her gaze briefly shifting to the King before returning to Octavius. “I can confirm that the bond is indeed genuine. Regardless of the power a crystal may possess, we cannot interfere with a mate bond. Furthermore, if the children she carries are not his, he would have detected it. Only the father can identify the scent of his offspring, and it is also important to note that they bear his royal blood.”

“Crystal’s can’t lie,” Aurora says. “They can twist the truth, but they can’t lie.”

“She’s right,” the blue-eyed man says to the king.

“We still don’t know if she’s marked,” the blonde, jealous bimbo says.

“I assure you, I do not bear the Mark of Lucian on my flesh,” Lia says.

“And you expect us to take your word for it?” She sneers.

“Aren’t you listening?” Ace interjects, his voice sharp and mocking. “She can’t lie.”

Octavius whirls toward Ace, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “What gives you the right to speak to her like that?”

Ace raises an eyebrow, his expression bored, as if Octavius was nothing more than a nuisance. But before Ace can retort Onyx’s order, “Enough. You mentioned a curse earlier.”

“A generational curse,” Lia says, her voice steady.

“What generational curse? Our family has no curse.” Octavius huffs, dismissing her words with a scoff.

“It only applies to true mates,” Lia says.

“Sounds like an Onyx problem to me,” Octavius says with a smirk.

I really don’t like him.

“Tell the boy, Octavius,” the sky-blue-eyed man says, glaring at the king.

The king’s jaw clenches, and he takes a deep, measured breath before he finally speaks. “We were the first of our kind, the most powerful beings in existence. No one or nothing has come close. Our family was revered as gods among the supernatural.”

I can feel Onyx stiffen behind me, his body tense with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

“What? That’s not possible. Our family had to be at least—”

“Dreklaus isn’t our real name, is it?” Onyx interrupts his brother, his voice sharp with realisation. I’d forgotten just how perceptive he was. “If we were the first of our kind, that would make us the Malik family. The original family. We created the vampire race.”

A collective gasp filled the room. Eyes widen, jaws drop—this was news to all of them. A deep silence follows. When I first heard about it, I was in shock, too. I thought Dracula was the first vampire. But no, it was the Malik’s. The king didn’t need to answer; the truth was written across his face.

“If we were the original family, then why change our name and lie about our heritage?” Octavius hisses, annoyance clear in his voice. “The world thinks the most powerful family to ever exist is gone. Yet here we are.”

“Control your tongue, son,” the king growls, his voice low and commanding. “I will not say it again.”

Octavius stiffens, shock flashing across his face. The power behind his father’s words made the air crackle, and I could feel it gnawing at my insides. Onyx pulls me closer, his arms a shield around me, while Theron and Sirius did the same for their beloveds.

“Forgive me, Father,” Octavius says, bowing his head in submission. “But you must understand, this is a lot to take in.”

“Was that the first time someone got scolded by Daddy?” Onyx teases, his voice laced with amusement.

Octavius shoots him a deadly glare, but Onyx simply winks. I stifle a laugh while Ace and Damian snicker under their breath.

The king clears his throat, his voice growing sombre as he continues. “Xanthus Malik was the eldest son of the original family. After he found his beloved—a fae maiden—his father passed the throne to him. They were happy, in love, and ruled together. But the Fae king at the time could not bear to watch his daughter with a monster like us. His beloved was murdered—violently—by one of our kind. Something unforgivable. But his daughter, like her mother, saw the good in people. She never blamed Xanthus for her mother’s death. But her father did. He grew dark. Envious. Resentful. When she became pregnant, he snapped. He cast a spell on Xanthus, thinking he could take the one thing Xanthus loved more than anything. He assumed it was his heir.”

The room fell silent, and I could feel Onyx’s grip tighten around me. His anger was palpable, his emotions flowing through the bond we shared. “But it wasn’t,” he says, his voice low and tight.

“No,” the king confirms grimly.

“Most intricate spells of that nature can manifest in various forms,” Lia says. “A single mispronounced word in the incantation has the potential to alter the entire enchantment. His intent was never to harm his daughter. However, after the birth of her child, she died. It was at that moment that he realised the flaw in his spell. Something went wrong with the enchantment... After the child was born, it triggered the spell, which in the end was irrevocable, resulting in the death of his heir.”

Onyx’s rage was like a tidal wave, crashing over me, his body going rigid and his grip tightening painfully around me. A whimper escaped my lips. The air around us thickened, and I could feel the raw power radiating from him, suffocating.

“Shit! Sorry, Angel,” he snaps out of his fury, kissing my cheek and nose with frantic tenderness.

My smile was hesitant, my heart pounding as I watch the golden, red flecks in his eyes flare to life. This wasn’t going to end well.

“The one thing he loved most was her,” the king continued, his voice heavy with grim recollection. “When she died, he killed the child. And then he waged war against the Fae king. He won, but it broke him. He lost control, slaughtering everything in his path. That’s when the Lycan king had to step in and end it. A century later, his brother took the throne. He had two sons and a daughter. The tragedy of that curse was forgotten… until the firstborn son found his mate, and she died the same way. He slaughtered his children and his parents.”.

“Then why didn’t you kill me?” His voice is laced with pain, raw and jagged. “Mother was your predestined, wasn’t she?”

The king’s eyes darken as he chuckles darkly, an unsettling sound. “I wanted to. I was going to. But just as I was about to rip your little throat out, you opened those big blue eyes of yours. And it was like she was staring back at me.” He paused, a twisted smile playing on his lips. “I went on a rampage, barely holding onto my sanity, until the Fae king found me. Thanks to your grandmother.”

“Mother would have been so proud,” Onyx murmurs, the bitterness in his tone thick with unspoken grief.

The king’s expression twisted in fury. “You have no idea what it feels—” His words faltered as his eyes landed on my stomach. The fury in his gaze shifted. He frowns. “But you will.”

A gust of wind sweeps through the room, and before I can process anything, Onyx had his hand around his father’s neck. The sound of choking fills the air as the king’s face turns an alarming shade of blue.

“Onyx!” I scream, panic surging in my chest. But before I can move, Ace is there, his hand on my shoulder, holding me back.

“Nothing will happen to her.” Onyx’s voice drops, lowering several dangerous octaves into something bone-chilling. The force of his words was so powerful that everyone in the room bowed their heads in submission, except for the king, who didn’t fight back. “All these years. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have made a difference? You turned your humanity off a century ago. I was certain that if you found a predestined, you would reject her. But your grandfather didn’t want to risk it.”

“Persephone,” Onyx says as he glances at the blonde bimbo.

“But you are your mother’s son. Stubborn as hell.”

Onyx releases his father and pulls me into his arms. “Nothing will ever happen to you,” his voice was firm, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt.

“It already has,” Lia says.. “Every firstborn son who discovers his predestined mate is bound by the curse of the Fae King. The Moon Goddess could no longer watch the devastation, nor reverse the curse, which ultimately led to the end of the predestined mate bond.”

“Our family was shattered, and the entire supernatural world was thrown into chaos,” the king says. “That was when your great-great-grandfather made the decision to change our name to Dreklaus—to shield what little remained of our bloodline. After your mother... after the tragedy... That’s when your grandfather revealed the truth to me. No one, not even I, knew we were predestined mates.”

“We’re not keeping them.” Onyx’s words hit me like a jagged stone to the chest.

The pain in his voice was palpable, but so was the resolve. He hated himself for saying it, but he wasn’t willing to lose me—not even for them. I could feel his internal battle, the conflicting emotions swirling within him. He wanted our children, but not at the cost of my life.

“Hold on,” I began, my voice trembling with the storm of emotions crashing through me. “We need to talk about this.”

“No, there’s nothing to talk about,” Onyx interrupts, his tone harsh. “Haven’t you been listening? If you die, they still die.”

“Well, they’re not bloody refundable!” I snap, the fire in my veins boiling over. “And I don’t give a damn about some curse! They are mine, Onyx, and you can’t make me give them up! So, help me, I’m having them—with or without you!” The words spill out in a furious torrent, each one sharper than the last.

How dare he even suggest I give up our children?

“Ava—”

“No!” I shove his attempt at reassurance away, my eyes blazing with defiance. “It’s the four of us—or none of us, Dreklaus!” I fold my arms across my chest, daring him to challenge me.

“She’ll definitely make a fierce queen,” I heard the blue-eyed man mutter proudly to the king.

Onyx’s lips curl into a half-smirk, though there is something more fragile in his expression. “Must you always be this stubborn?”

“Must you always be such an ass?” I shoot back.

He growls under his breath and yanks me into his arms, pulling me flush against his chest. “That mouth of yours is going to get you into so much trouble.”

“I think we’re well past that, don’t you?” I glance down at my stomach.

Onyx’s expression softens, his gaze tender, yet fierce. He lifts my chin with gentle fingers, his voice low and unwavering. “You are my life. My heart. The fuckin’ air I breathe. I love you more than anything, and I will not lose you.”

“Then you won’t,” I whisper, a tear slipping down my cheek.

“Ava, the curse—”

“We have a plan,” I interrupt, my voice steadier now.

“Why him?” Octavius’ voice was sharp, tinged with anger. “Why not anyone else? What makes him worthy?”

“The Moon Goddess creates mates solely for a purpose. The heirs of Prince Onyx will restore their family name and protect the world from an impending, unforeseeable threat. Their children are exceptional. Kayli Onyx’s mother was a direct descendant of the Moon Goddess.” Lia’s statement caused shock to ripple through the room, even the king appears taken aback. “Their wolves possess enhanced strength, and they are capable of assuming a Lycan form. Her mother, the last of the descendants, perished while giving birth to her. This made Queen Kayli the soul carrier until Prince Onyx.”

“That’s absurd!” Octavius scoffs, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Impossible!” Persephone says, her eyes narrowing.

“This is... mind-blowing,” Damian breathes, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“I need a drink,” Ace mutters, his voice low and strained.

“Make that two,” Sirius says, his gaze fixed and unwavering, not even blinking.

“Make it three,” Theron adds, sinking heavily into a nearby chair with the shock across his face.

“A werewolf, Lycan, vampire tribrid...” Aurora’s voice was laced with awe and disbelief. “The only tribrid of that nature was Xanthus Malik. He was the only one to carry that gene among his three brothers.”

“Did you tell her about the change?” the king asked Lia.

“What change?” I ask, and Lia quickly averts her gaze. “Lia?” I drag out her name, a warning in my tone. “What didn’t you tell me?” I fold my arms, arching an eyebrow as I wait for her answer.

“I may have overlooked a small detail.”

“What detail?” I demand, a sinking feeling creeping into my chest.

“Human physiology is not equipped to sustain the birth of supernatural offspring. In the case of triplets, after approximately two weeks, the offspring will require more nutrients and energy than the human body is capable of producing. Consequently, the result will be fatal.”

“What?!” I squeal, my voice cracking in sheer panic. “You call that a small detail? That’s a bloody massive detail to forget, Lia! You’ve just dropped a bombshell like, Oh, by the way, you’re going to bloody die if you keep growing those little bundles of joy in there! How is that something you just... skip over? Like, Oh, I’ll leave out the bit where she’s gonna drop dead in two weeks—no biggie!” I threw my hands up, utterly exasperated. “Honestly, a little heads-up would’ve been nice, don’t you think?”

“You will not die,” Lia says. “He will turn you.”

“Turn me?” I practically scream, struggling to keep my breath steady, my heart pounding in my chest. “Turn me into what?”

“Baby, calm down,” Onyx says, his voice laced with concern, his hands reaching out to steady me.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I growl, shaking with a mix of anger and fear.

Suddenly, the room tilts beneath me, my vision blurs, and the world spins violently. I try to steady myself, but the darkness creeps in, and the last thing I felt was Onyx’s strong arms catching me before everything went black.

---

Chapter 58: Eternal Bond.

I stir awake, my body buzzing with tingling sensations like champagne bubbles popping beneath my skin. Groaning, I murmur, “What happened?”

“You fainted,” his voice rumbles beside me. I blink, realizing he was lying next to me, his warm hand rubbing gentle circles on my stomach.

“How long was I out?” I mumble, snuggling closer to his side. His warmth is intoxicating, his scent like a heady mix of pine needles, sandalwood and chocolate chip muffins, inherently him.

He chuckles softly, wrapping me up in his arms. “A day.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering there.

My eyes snap open, and I shoot upright like I’ve been struck by lightning.

“Angel, what’s wrong? Are you—”

“You have to turn me!” I stammer, my words rushing out in a panicked tumble. His concern melts into a sigh of relief when he realizes I wasn’t hurt. At least not physically.

“She said two weeks! That’s fourteen days, right? And now we’re on day fourteen, which means you have to turn me today!” I gulp down the lump threatening to choke me, my fingers fidgeting nervously.

He exhales deeply, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s going to be alright.”

“How?” I sniffle, feeling the pressure of the moment crash over me.

He mutters under his breath, “I should’ve thought about using protection. “His sheepish grin almost makes me forget my panic.

Almost.

“Since Wyatt made it clear he’d murder anyone who touched me, I didn’t think birth control was a priority.” I groan.

He laughs under his breath, catching my playful smack to his chest and kissing my knuckles. “In my defense, I should’ve known you’d end up pregnant this fast. The way your body reacts to me…” His eyes sparkle mischievously as my face went nuclear.

“Stop,” I groan, burying my face in my hands.

“Angel,” he murmurs, tilting my chin up, his tone suddenly serious, “do you trust me?”

I nod.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

Another nod.

“And you believe I’d do anything and everything to keep you and our pups safe?”

I nod again, though my heart stutters at the word pups.

“Is it… is it going to hurt?”

He sighs, brushing a thumb over my cheek. “What do you want to be? Vampire or werewolf?”

I blink at him. “Which one hurts less?”

“Both venoms are equally painful, but shifting for the first time? That’s like having your skeleton set on fire and then rearranged.”

“Right,” I deadpan. “So… if I pick vampire, does that make me a zombie or something? Since, you know, technically I’d be dead?”

He bursts out laughing, which earns him my best death glare. Clearing his throat, he smooths his expression, though his lips still twitch. “Contrary to popular belief, vampires aren’t actually dead-dead. Our hearts still beat—slower, sure, but it beats. It’s only when we turn off our humanity that our hearts stop completely.”

“Is that… scary?” I ask, curiosity prickling at me.

He hesitates, his gaze softening. “Turning it off makes you feel less. Hurt less. But it also makes you more… primitive. Dangerous. You don’t have to worry about that, though.”

“Would you ever switch it off again?”

He presses a kiss to my temple. “Not as long as I have you. That switch? It’s all yours now. I couldn’t flip it even if I wanted to.”

“Well, I like dogs, but I hate running. So… vampire it is.”

Tilting my head to the side, he brushes his lips against my neck. “You sure about this?”

I nod, then whisper, “No.”

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against my skin. “Ready?”

“No,” I whisper again. “Wait.”

He pauses, pulling back slightly.

“I just need to… to mentally prepare,” I say, waving my hands vaguely.

“Mentally prepare?” His eyebrow arches. “What more prep do you need?”

I purse my lips. “I don’t know. Maybe a countdown? A… ritual snack? Do vampires snack? Should I snack?”

“Snack?” He blinks at me, clearly trying not to laugh. “Angel, this isn’t a picnic. You’re not going to eat your way through this.”

“Fine,” I huff. “But—what about last words? Should I say something profound? Like… like…” I flounder, grasping for inspiration.

He leans back, crossing his arms as he smirks. “Go on, Shakespeare. Hit me with your best line.”

“Don’t rush me!” I snap, shooting him a glare. “This is a lot of pressure!”

He let out a full-bodied laugh, shaking his head. “Angel, you’re stalling.”

“No, I’m not. I’m being thorough. You’d appreciate that if the roles were reversed.”

“Oh, would I?” He leans closer, his smirk widening. “What would you do if it were me?”

“Obviously, I’d have snacks ready,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Obviously.”

“And a playlist. Something dramatic, like… I don’t know. My Immortal.”

He laughs so hard he has to bury his face in my shoulder. “You’re overthinking it.”

“I’m being practical,” I shoot back.

He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin. “ You’ve got this. I promise.”

I stare at him, my heart thundering. “Okay. No more stalling.”

“Really?” He smirks, leaning in again.

“Really.”

I nod firmly. Then I blurt, “Wait, one more thing!”

“Angel.”

“Okay, okay, I’m done!” I close my eyes, bracing myself. “For real this time.”

His lips graze my neck as he whispers, “No take-backs.”

“Wait—just one more thing,” I blurt, pulling back slightly.

His head drops against my shoulder, and he lets out the longest, most exasperated groan. “Go on.”

“This is life-altering. You can’t just rush me into eternal damnation—or whatever this is!”

“It’s not damnation. It’s immortality. With me.” He gave me a pointed look, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

I squint at him. “That sounds exactly like something someone leading me into damnation would say.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“I prefer thorough.”

“Fine,” he says, leaning back against the headboard with an exaggerated sigh. “What now? Do you need to compose a poem? Maybe sketch out a will?”

“Don’t tempt me,” I quip, before gasping dramatically. “Oh my God, do I need a will? Is there, like, a vampire version of legal documents? A last testament for the undead?”

“You know what? Sure,” he says. “Let’s call a vampire lawyer. They’re probably awake right now since it’s night and all.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. This is important!”

“So is the fact that we’re on a clock,” he shoots back, but there is laughter bubbling beneath his frustration. “You said it yourself—today’s the day.”

I hold up a finger. “I know what’ll help. Dramatic music. Do we have a playlist? You can’t have a life-changing moment without the right vibe.”

“A playlist,” he repeats flatly. “You want me to turn you into a vampire to music.”

“Yes!” I say, “Something moody. Atmospheric. Like a Gregorian chant, but sexy.”

He stares at me for a long beat before bursting into laughter, the kind that shook his shoulders and had him wiping his eyes.

“Angel,” he says, still chuckling, “I love you, but I swear if you stall one more time—”

“I’m not stalling,” I interrupt, then immediately raise a hand. “Except—”

“That’s it.” He lunges forward, wrapping his arms around me as I squeak in protest.

“Wait! I’m not ready!”

“You’ll never be ready,” he says, his lips brushing against my ear, his voice low and teasing. “So I’m calling your bluff.”

I squirm, laughing nervously. “Okay, okay! I promise—this is the last time!”

He tilts my head to the side, his breath warm against my neck. “You ready now?”

I hesitate, then whisper, “No.”

He groans. “Angel, I swear—”

“Fine! Just bloody do it before I think of something else!”

A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal, as his fangs pierced my neck without warning. The pain was immediate, searing, and all-consuming, like molten iron coursing through my veins. I thrash wildly, my legs kicking and arms flailing in a desperate attempt to escape the agony. But he holds me in place.

“Stop!” I choke out, my voice breaking into sobs. “Please, stop!”

But he didn’t. His jaw stays locked. None of his bites had ever felt like this. This wasn’t pleasure edged with pain; this was pain sharpened into something monstrous. It’s as though a grenade had detonated inside me, shredding every nerve and setting every cell ablaze. My skin feels too tight, my blood boiling, my very essence unravelling under the pressure of his venom. My screams give way to broken gasps as the fire consumes me, relentless and merciless. The fire roars louder, burning brighter until it reaches its peak—and then begins to fade, as if someone had smothered the flames with a heavy blanket. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, seeping into every corner of my mind. My body stills, no longer mine to command, my limbs slack and useless. And then, there was nothing. Just silence. Just darkness. Just… oblivion.

I woke with a sharp inhale, my eyes snapping open to a world that felt impossibly vivid. Colours weren’t just brighter—they are alive, shimmering with an intensity that makes my head spin. Every edge, every detail around me seemed to pulse with clarity, like stepping into a dimension beyond comprehension. My vision adjusted rapidly, and I blinked, overwhelmed by the sheer realness of it all. Then came the sounds. A cacophony of whispers and murmurs I shouldn’t be able to hear. The faint rustle of fabric, the subtle creak of the mattress, even the steady hum of electricity in the walls—it all roars in my ears like a symphony. My throat, though, was the worst. It burns fiercely, raw and dry as if I hadn’t had a drop of water in years. No, not water. Something else. Something far more primal.

A pulse.

I freeze, it sounds like a drumbeat echoing through me. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It was maddening, a hypnotic rhythm I couldn’t escape. And then his scent hit me—intoxicating, overwhelming, utterly addictive.

It was rich, like the forest after a storm, earthy sandalwood and crisp pine needles entwined with the warmth of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. There was something darker beneath it, though, something tantalizingly sweet and sharp—the unmistakable tang of his blood, humming just beneath the surface. The scent wraps around me, clinging to my senses, more potent than anything I’d ever known. It wasn’t just a smell—it was a lure, a siren’s song that seeps into every corner of my being. My throat constricted, the raw burn deepening into a fierce, unrelenting hunger that twists my insides into knots. Every inhale only makes it worse, every breath pulling me deeper under its spell. I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but him—his pulse, his warmth, and that achingly addictive scent that promised everything I needed. Everything I craved. I licked my lips instinctively, but my mouth was too dry, my tongue rough against my skin. My gaze flicks to his neck, to the faint blue line that pulsed beneath his skin. The vein was hypnotic, taunting me, teasing me, calling me. My body moves before I can think, straddling him with a feral need I couldn’t suppress. His pulse quickens beneath me, the rhythm shifting, matching the hunger coursing through my veins. I swallow hard, my tongue swiping across my lips again, desperate for relief.

Then his eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep, and locked onto mine. I gasp, the breath catching in my throat. His eyes weren’t just eyes anymore— they were works of art, galaxies swirling with impossible beauty. A striking azure blue dominated, bright and endless like the clearest summer sky, but that was only the beginning. Threads of obsidian black wove through, dark and mysterious, drawing me deeper. Encircling it all was a ring of blazing sterling silver-grey, luminous and electric, as if it held the very power of a storm. Tiny flecks of light danced within them, like sunlight reflecting off waves, shifting and shimmering with a life of their own. It’s as though I was seeing them for the first time, every detail magnified to perfection. They weren’t just beautiful—they were mesmerizing, infinite, galaxies contained within the bounds of his irises. Looking into them feels like falling into the sky, endless and untouchable, and for a moment, I forget everything else. The hunger, the burning—it all faded, leaving only the breathtaking wonder of those eyes. It was so impossibly beautiful that, for a fleeting moment, I forgot my hunger. I forgot the fire in my throat, the pulse in his veins, and the predator roaring inside me. I only feel an overwhelming, almost painful ache in my chest. And then it hit me. Not the hunger.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t dare blink. My voice trembles, barely a whisper. “What’s happening to me?”

His smile is soft, almost reverent, and it stole what was left of my breath. “You’re feeling the pull,” he says, his voice low and steady, grounding me. “And the hunger.”

The word hit me like a spark to dry tinder. The awe, the strange warmth coursing through me, all of it vanishes in an instant. The hunger roars back to life, raw and feral, clawing at me with a ferocity that leaves me gasping. I grip his shirt tightly, my fingers trembling as the burning in my throat flares hotter, sharper. My mouth feels impossibly dry, my teeth aching as if they were searching for relief I didn’t yet understand.

“I can’t,” I croaked, my voice breaking. “It’s too much. I… I need…”

“I know,” he murmurs, brushing a stray tear from my cheek. His touch is impossibly gentle, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. “It’s the hunger, Angel. It’s always the strongest at the start.”

I shiver at his words, my gaze flicking to his neck. That maddening pulse is back, taunting me, daring me to take what I so desperately craved. His scent—warm muffin and sweet copper—washes over me again, intoxicating and unbearable all at once.

“I can’t control it,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. My lips part, and I lick them instinctively, but it does nothing to ease the fire in my throat.

“You don’t have to.” His voice is calm, but his gaze is heavy, full of unspoken meaning. He tilts his head slightly, exposing the strong line of his neck, the vein there pulsing in perfect, maddening rhythm.

I freeze, my instincts warring with my humanity. “What if I hurt you?”

“You can’t,” he says simply. “You couldn’t if you tried. Trust me.”

I swallow hard, my resolve slipping as the hunger claws at me mercilessly. My gums ache, sharp and throbbing, the pain almost unbearable as my fangs grow, pressing against the inside of my mouth. A pressure builds behind my eyes, a sharp, stabbing pain that makes my head spin. My body moved on its own, my hands sliding up his chest to steady myself. My lips hover just over his skin, and I can feel the heat radiating from him, the promise of relief just beneath the surface.

His eyes darken with desire, and I feel it in every part of my body. “Then go on, take what you need,” he growls low, the sound vibrating through me, and I lose all sense of control.

I sank my fangs into his neck, the pulse beneath my lips irresistible. A moan tore from my chest as his blood flooded my mouth, thick and hot, pouring down my throat like liquid fire. It is better than anything I could have ever imagined—tasting him was like tasting life itself, raw and intoxicating. The hunger inside me flares as my fangs sink deeper, pulling harder, my body trembling with the need for more. His blood is a heady mix of warmth and sweetness, like the richest honey, more addictive than anything I’d ever craved. I felt every inch of my being ignite as the blood coursed through me, sending jolts of pleasure and power all the way to my fingertips.

I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. The adrenaline, the raw need—everything inside me was burning. My grip on him tightens, pulling him closer, desperate to drink it all in. My fangs lengthened, my body aching for more, for the taste of him to consume me entirely. His blood is everything. Better than chocolate-covered strawberries, better than anything I had ever known. It was like a drug, like an explosion of pure ecstasy coursing through my veins.

“Easy, Angel,” Onyx murmurs, his hand smoothing over my spine, steadying me when I could feel myself slipping into something darker. “Slow down. Drink nice and slow.”

But it was impossible to listen. The hunger was still there, raging inside me, but his soothing words kept me grounded, forcing me to pull back, to control the need flooding through me. His touch, gentle yet firm, makes it all the more intoxicating, my body aching for him, craving him in a way I never thought possible.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice thick with something primal. “You’re doing so well. Slowly,” he breathes. “You need to control it.”

I fought to take it slow. He tenses beneath me, his hand pressing lightly against the back of my head, guiding me. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice a soft growl. “That’s it. Let it fill you up, feel it… all of it.”

I sink my fangs deeper, but this time I focus on controlling my instincts, pulling the blood with more precision. It wasn’t like before—there was no frantic urgency, no desperate clawing at his skin. It was a rhythmic pulse, slow and steady. I can feel the warmth flood my mouth, the sweetness of him filling every part of me.

I pull back just a little, licking my lips. His blood is still sweet, but now it was smoother, more refined. It’s like a warm, intoxicating tide, and I can feel it spreading through my entire body, lighting up every nerve.

“That’s a good girl,” Onyx purrs, his voice laced with approval. “That’s how you control it. You’re learning, Angel. It’s not about taking it all—it’s about savouring it. Let yourself feel it, let it fill you. And when you do, you will not be so consumed by the hunger.”

I nod, still trembling, but a new sense of control starts to settle in. The raw urgency was there, but it’s different now. The fire in my veins wasn’t overwhelming; it was... pleasurable. A deep, insistent pleasure. I can feel his presence, the weight of his body beneath mine, his heartbeat, his breath, all syncing with my own.

He tilts my chin up gently, looking into my eyes. “There’s more to it than just the blood,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over my lips as if he were savouring the moment. “It’s about the connection. The bond. You’ll feel it every time you drink. It’s not just what you take from me—it’s what we share.”

As the last word leaves his lips, his fangs sink into my neck, and a gasp tears from me. The world around us blurs as heat floods through my body, my skin tingling, every nerve on high alert. The sensation is overwhelming, like electricity coursing through me, setting my very soul on fire. I feel an ache deep inside me, an insatiable need building with every breath. I never felt this wet in my life. I couldn’t control the desperate moan that escapes my lips, my body moving instinctively grinding against his hard cock. Every touch, every movement of his body against mine heightened the hunger within me. I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t suppress it—my desire for him had become all-consuming, and I need him inside me now.

He pulls his fangs from my skin, his voice low and ragged. “God, your arousal ... is driving me fuckin’ crazy.”

“Onyx, I need you inside me now,” I moan, my knickers soaked.

He flips us so fast, that I barely had time to react. His strength and control over me were dizzying, in the best way. I’d never felt him like this before—rough, intense, and I couldn’t help but love it. His growl vibrates against me, his hands gripping me tighter as he shoves my legs apart. Every movement feels possessive, primal, and it has my pulse racing. He tore my panties off, and before I could catch my breath, he was inside me, his thrusts hard and deep. I gasp, instinctively grabbing his shoulders.

“Bloody hell,” I mutter, my voice shaky.

“You like that?” He grinds against me, pulling back slightly before slamming into me again.

I couldn’t help but nod, but he tutted.

“Use your words, love.” He kisses the side of my neck. “Tell me what you want.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Don’t be shy now.”

I rock my hips, trying to get traction, but he pulls all the way out and rests his hard cock on my throbbing clit.

“You’re horrible!”

“Say it. Tell me. What do you want, hm?”

I bite my lip, feeling a fire building inside me, my body desperate for him, but the words wouldn’t come. His smile deepened, knowing the effect he had on me.

“You want me to keep going, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice teasing yet somehow reassuring.

My pulse races, and I can’t stop myself from whispering, “Please… don’t stop.”

His hand moves to my cheek, brushing away a strand of hair, his eyes softening just slightly, but the edge of his desire still burns through. “Good girl,” he whispers, pressing his lips against mine for a brief, heated kiss. “You’re all mine now,” he says, his voice rough with need. “All mine.”

“Yes,” I breathed, my legs wrapping tighter around his waist. “Yours.”

In one swift motion, he enters me, filling me completely, and I cry out in pleasure, my back arches.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hips moving in a slow, torturous rhythm. “You feel so good.”

“More,” I pant, my fingers digging into his back. “Harder.”

He didn’t need any further encouragement. His grip tightens on my hip, holding me in place as he finds the perfect angle. Each thrust is harder than the last, his skin meeting mine with a rhythmic slap that only adds to the intensity. I’m consumed by him, every inch of me trembling under the force of his movement.

“Faster.”

His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding, and I match him, meeting each thrust with a desperate hunger of my own. The friction, the heat, the pure intensity of our connection driving me to the brink, and I can feel myself spiralling out of control.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice a dark command in my ear. “I want to feel you come.”

The pressure builds inside me, coiling tighter, and I can’t stop the gasp that escapes when his fangs pierce my neck. With one final, powerful thrust, I shatter, my pussy clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash over me. It’s electrifying—stars burst behind my eyelids, and I instinctively clamp my legs around his waist, my body trembles with release as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through me. Suddenly my gaze locks onto the spot on his neck just above his collarbone. It was as if it called to me, pulling me in, drawing me closer, whispering a promise I couldn’t resist. Every part of me aches to claim him, to seal us together in a way that no one else can touch. Without thinking, I lean in, my lips brushing against the warmth of his skin, feeling the pulse beneath. And then, I sink my fangs into him.

The moment I did, it wasn’t just the bite that consumed me. It was as though our souls collided—an electric current that surged between us, raw and undeniable. I feel him deep inside me, more than his blood, more than his skin—his very essence. My fangs dig deeper, marking him as mine, and in return, I feel his soul, reaching out to touch mine, intertwining in a perfect, eternal bond.

The world around us disappears. It was just the two of us, locked in this moment, connected on a level that transcends everything else. The taste of his blood was sweet, but the feeling of our souls connecting, of becoming one, was what took my breath away. I wasn’t just claiming him—I was becoming a part of him, and he, a part of me. In that moment, we were no longer two separate beings. We were one. He found his own release that tears a guttural moan from his lips as he buries himself deep inside me, filling me up.

For a moment, we stay like that, our bodies tangled together, our breathing heavy and ragged. Then, slowly, he pulls back, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that takes my breath away. He hovers above me, his strong arms braced on either side of my head, holding himself steady, our bodies still connected.

“You’re mine,” he says again, his voice softer now, but no less possessive. “Forever.”

“Forever,” I agree, my heart pounding with the truth of it. “I’m yours.”

Then my eyes were suddenly drawn to the mark on his neck. I can’t tear my eyes away from his neck as the mark around the bite begins to form, glowing like magic.

“Admiring your handiwork?”

I frown, tracing the mark with my eyes. “Why doesn’t it have the black circle?”

He chuckles, his voice low and steady, but there was something else in it—a touch of pride. “Because you’re only a vampire. A regular vampire mark is just the bite with the beloved’s name. A werewolf’s mark has a black circle and a crescent moon around it with their mate’s name. But because I’m a hybrid... your mark will be both. The bite, the circle, and the red means you’re royalty.”

I blinked. “I’m royalty?”

He smiles, his eyes dark with affection. “You’re my queen.” He nuzzles my neck, breathing in deeply. “And I’ll always worship you like one.”

The feeling of his words sends a wave of heat rushing through me, making my heart race. The weight of what he said settles deep in my chest, but it isn’t just the words—it’s the feeling behind them. “And you’re my king,” I whisper, my voice low and sultry. I can feel his cock getting harder than before if that was possible.

His gaze darkens, his hand tracing the mark on my neck gently, almost reverently. “Always,” he murmurs and claims my mouth and body all over again.

We went at it for two days straight, no breaks, no stopping. And let me tell you, I quickly discovered that orgasms make blood taste way better. No wonder vampires are always at it. But the real kicker? Onyx had been going easy on me this whole time. Now that I was a full-on vampire, he wasn’t holding back one bit. And honestly? I bloody loved it. We couldn’t get enough.

Then, I found out something a bit strange—mated vampires can feed off others, but no other vampire can feed off them. Only your mate. Any other vampire bite would be toxic and painful.

Onyx swore up and down he wouldn’t snack around unless I was up for it. I may have threatened to murder him in his sleep if he did. Apparently, I’ve got this whole possessive, territorial thing going on now. How did I learn that? Oh, funny story. Ace thought it would be hilarious to throw his arm around Onyx’s shoulder. Big mistake. I nearly ripped his bloody arm off. Not proud of it.

Then came the cravings. Turns out, being a vampire means I’m constantly in need of a feed, and, well, ninety-nine percent of the time, it ended in shagging. I could try blaming it on pregnancy hormones, but let’s be honest... it wasn’t just that. Apparently, this phase lasts ages, like, a decade or more. Skylar and Sirius were said to be the worst, but according to everyone else, we had them beat by a long shot.

A whole week had passed. The babies were healthy, thank God. Onyx and I... well, let’s just say things were going very well on that front. Lia and Ace? They were constantly at each other’s throats. But it was obvious—Ace had a soft spot for her, even if he’d never admit it. And, surprisingly, I think she might have one for him too. Every time Ace was around another girl, I swear Lia’s face turned the deepest shade of red. I mean, she looked like a kid, but the thought of her being jealous seemed... absurd. Or was it? Everything else was falling into place. All that was left now was to find that bloody mark and destroy it. Easier said than done, though.

---

Chapter 59: The Cost of Goodbye.

When Lia dropped the whole curse bomb on me, I didn’t just lose the plot—I obliterated it. There was hyperventilating, a full-blown panic attack, and what I’m pretty sure qualified as a mini heart attack. Honestly, if I’d keeled over right then and there, it would’ve saved me the trouble of trying to process the news. Swallowing the truth feels like choking on a brick dipped in acid while someone laughs in the background. I keep pinching myself, willing to wake up from this absolute horror show, but no—this isn’t a bad dream. This was my new reality. And I was not bloody ready for it. Remember when I said, “Nothing can surprise me anymore”? Yeah, well, the universe decided to shove that statement right back down my bloody throat. Not only am I surprised, but I’m utterly gobsmacked. One point for the universe, zero for Luna. At this rate, I wouldn’t be shocked if I woke up laying eggs or popping out a litter of baby dragons. Actually, scratch that. Let’s not give the universe any more bloody ideas.

And while we’re on the subject of cosmic curveballs, let me just say, the cherry on this disaster sundae is that I haven’t called my parents in weeks. Now, my parents are the epitome of old-fashioned. They’re the type who believes a ring on the finger is non-negotiable before anything remotely scandalous happens. And technically...I’m married—ish. A vampire mark is the supernatural equivalent of a diamond ring. Oh, God, my dad’s going to go full shotgun-wielding maniac. Onyx might be bulletproof, but that won’t stop him from getting the fright of his immortal life.

At this point, I’m ready to just shove Onyx into the lion’s den and hope my parents are too distracted to interrogate me. He’s the big, bad, alpha werewolf-vampire prince, right? Surely, he can handle a couple of grumpy humans. Right? Oh, who am I kidding—Dad’s going to murder him. No one knocks up his baby girl without asking for her hand first. Ugh.

I’ve been dreading this conversation all week. How do you even start? “Hey Mum, Dad, so I got marked by a hybrid prince, got pregnant, and oh, by the way, I’m a vampire now. Fancy skipping the turkey and stuffing this Thanksgiving, yeah?” I’ve survived being kidnapped, dodged bullets and an arrow, nearly got raped twice, and squared off against hunters, rogues, and Voldemort’s psychotic sister and whatever that other thing was. Yet here I am, a vampire—and terrified of calling my human parents. There’s irony, and then there’s this level of cosmic comedy.

“You know,” Onyx drawls, leaning against our bedroom doorframe with his signature smirk, “if you keep glaring at the phone like that, it’s not going to magically dial itself.”

I groan dramatically and flop onto the bed. “I’d rather take my chances with Voldemort’s sister.”

The bed dipped as he sat down beside me. “One, she’s dead. And two, even if she weren’t, there’s no way in hell I’d let her lay a finger on you.” His hand brushes a strand of hair from my face. “I know you’d prefer to talk to them in person,” he murmurs, his tone taking on a soothing edge. “But you’ve only been a vampire for a week. A newborn—especially a pregnant one—is going to struggle with bloodlust around humans. It’s too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” I scoff, narrowing my eyes at him. “If they find out, you’re the one in danger. My dad’s got a mean swing with a cricket bat.”

Onyx chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I think I can handle your dad. “ He pauses. “Unless he’s as scary as you when you’re angry. Then I might have to rethink my life choices.”

“Should I be worried that the mighty prince is scared of my dad?”

He arches a brow, clearly unimpressed by my jab. “Not scared. Just... appropriately cautious. I’ve heard cricket bats can leave a nasty mark.”

“Damn right, they can.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Stalling.”

“I’m not stalling,” I shoot back, far too quickly to be convincing. “I’m just... mentally preparing.”

“Ah, yes. Mentally preparing. That’s what you call staring at the phone like it owes you money?”

I huff and flop back down, throwing an arm over my eyes. “Fine. Maybe I’m stalling a little. It’s just... what if they hate me? Or worse, what if they pity me? Oh, poor Ava, turned into a vampire and knocked up by some ancient bloodsucker. It’s a lot to take in.”

Onyx shifts until he is laying beside me, propping himself up on one elbow. “First of all, I’m not that ancient,” he says with mock indignation. “And second, if anyone dares to pity you, I’ll personally make them regret it. You’re strong, Ava. Stronger than you think.”

I peek out from under my arm. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

He grins. “Is it working?”

“Not even a little.” I sigh, sitting up again. “But seriously, what am I supposed to say? Hi, Mum and Dad, surprise! I’m undead now, and you’re going to be grandparents to my hybrid babies. They’re going to think I’ve completely lost the plot.”

“Not like they’ll remember any of it.”

I cringe, the weight of the situation sinking in like lead in my stomach. Then there was that. No matter what I tell them the truth was bound to come out. Like how was I going to explain my new family had fangs? Literal, razor-sharp fangs. And the whole never ageing thing? Even Avin agreed. This was for the best. But did I really want to? No. But it was the right thing to do.

“I should call them, shouldn’t I?”

“You should,” he agrees, brushing his fingers against mine. “But if it helps, I’ll sit right here and take the blame for everything.”

“Oh, you’re definitely taking the blame,” I say with mock seriousness, reaching for the phone. “If my dad shows up with his cricket bat, I’m pointing him straight at you.”

“Fair deal,” Onyx says with a wink. “I’m not afraid of a little bruising—though I might rethink if he’s packing garlic breadsticks. But I may know someone who can help.”

“Help?” I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. Onyx tilts his head toward the door, and I follow his gaze. Standing there, smiling warmly, were Aurora and Skylar.

“I’ll leave you girls to it,” Onyx murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be right outside. I love you, angel,” he adds softly.

“I love you too, mi amor,” I reply, the words slipping out naturally.

His gaze darkens, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his lips twitch into a sinful smirk. “Fuck, I’ll never get used to that.” The heat in his eyes send a shiver down my spine.

As the door clicks shut, Aurora flops onto the bed beside me, her grin as bright as ever. “And we’ll never get used to seeing him like that.”

“That’s for sure,” Skylar says sitting on the chair across from us.

I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, he’s... mushy now.”

“Only with you,” Aurora says, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“Everyone else still sees the impatient, ruthless vampire prince. But to you? He’s just daddy—to you and your pups,” Skylar says.

“You’ll never let me live that down, would you?”

“Nope,” they say in unison.

But as my eyes drift to the iPhone sitting in front of me, my laughter fades, replaced by a heavy knot in my chest.

“My parents,” Aurora begins softly, her voice pulling me back. I turn to see her staring at her hands, her expression unreadable. “They were loving, caring people. They couldn’t afford much, but they gave me everything they could. I adored them. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about them.” Her voice cracks, and tears glisten in her eyes.

Skylar and I instinctively move closer, clasping her hands in silent support.

Aurora’s voice trembles as she continues. “I got sick. The medication was expensive. My dad worked four jobs just to try to keep up, and my mum...” She pauses, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “She’d sneak out after Dad left for work. At first, I thought she was cleaning houses for extra money. But she wasn’t. She was working at a brothel.”

“Aurora, you don’t have to—” I begin, but she cuts me off with a determined look.

“I want to, Luna,” she insists, forcing a shaky smile. “I felt like such a burden. I wanted to help, but they wouldn’t let me. One day, Mum came home with bruises and her dress torn. I knew what had happened the moment I saw her face. She tried to smile, tried to act like everything was fine, but I could see right through it.” Her voice broke, and she laughs bitterly. “She even started dinner like nothing had happened.”

My chest ached for her as she pressed on. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt like my illness was destroying them. So I ran. In the middle of a storm, without my medicine, knowing full well I wouldn’t last long. I figured it was better that way.”

Aurora’s gaze softens, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “That’s when I met Theron. He found me under a tree, drenched and shivering. He sat beside me with an umbrella, and we talked for hours. For the first time in forever, I felt normal, like a girl who wasn’t dying.” Her cheeks flush, and a dreamy glint lit up her eyes. “That night, he turned me. We bonded right there under that tree.”

Skylar and I exchange knowing looks, giggling as Aurora rolls her eyes.

“Years later,” she continues, her tone hardening, “I went back to visit my parents. The house was abandoned, trashed. I found out they’d spent every day searching for me. My mother had been raped and killed. My father... took his own life.” Her bitter laugh was like a dagger to the chest.

“Aurora, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t.” Her voice was firm, but her hands trembled. “I don’t need your pity. I made those bastards pay for what they did to my family. But if I’d known... If I’d reached out sooner... maybe things would’ve been different.” Her voice cracks, and she clutches my hand tightly. “Don’t wait like I did. Don’t let fear stop you. Talk to them. I know it’s not the ending you want but this way they can have some closure. “

Skylar hands me my phone, her voice quieter than usual. “I never met my dad. And my mum? She hated me. If I had a family who loved me like yours does, I wouldn’t have turned out to be such a heartless bitch.”

We all laugh softly, but her words linger.

“Call them,” Skylar urges as she stands, giving me a reassuring smile before slipping out of the room.

Aurora pulls me into a tight hug, her voice gentle in my ear. “You’re doing the right thing. And Closure is not for just them.”

As the door clicks shut behind her, I stare at the phone in my hands, my heart pounding. They were right. It was time. I wouldn’t have guessed Aurora was human, but it does explain her behaviour at times.

“Okay. Here goes nothing. Closure.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks, steadying my trembling fingers, and hit the video call button. The screen rang once, twice, three times before my mother’s face filled it.

“Luna!” she gasps, her voice breaking with relief. “Oh, my baby! William!” she shouts, calling for my dad.

“Hey, Mum,” I say softly, my voice shaking despite my best efforts.

“Luna? Princess, is that really you?” My dad’s face appears next to hers, his eyes already glistening with tears. “Where have you been? Are you okay? Tell me where you are!”

“We’ve been searching everywhere for you!” Mum adds, her voice rising with a mixture of relief and frustration. “The police had no leads, your school was clueless—do you have any idea what we’ve been through? Where have you been, young lady?”

“Mum!” I heard my sister’s voice in the background, muffled but frantic.

“In here! It’s Luna!” Mum shouts back, and then came the sound of hurried footsteps, growing louder by the second.

“Luna?!” My sister’s face appears next, flushed and breathless. “Where are you? Are you okay? What’s happened?”

“I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile even as my heart clenches. “Really, I am.”

“Fine?” Dad’s voice cracks as he points an accusing finger at the screen. “Do you know how worried we’ve been? We thought—we thought something bloody awful had happened to you!” His voice breaks, and he swallows hard. “Tell us where you are. We’re coming to get you right now.”

I watch in silence as Mum and my sister scramble to grab their coats, and Dad reaches for his car keys. They were ready to storm the ends of the earth to bring me home, and for a fleeting moment, I almost let them.

But I couldn’t.

“Guys! Guys!” My voice rises, and they all freeze, turning their anxious eyes to me.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. I have to protect them, even if it breaks my heart. This was for the best. Closure.

“Can you just... stop for a second and look at me?” I plead, my voice trembling. They pause, their faces filled with confusion and desperation, and I knew this would destroy them.

But the truth was a greater threat.

“I need you to listen,” I begin, forcing my voice to stay steady even as my hands tremble in my lap. “I’m... pregnant.”

Mum froze, her hand clutching the arm of the sofa. Slowly, she sits down, her eyes locked on me. “Pregnant?” she repeats faintly.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Dad mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Mum blinks rapidly, then leans forward, her voice soft but firm. “Was it… was it consensual, love?”

“Yes, Mum,” I say quickly, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Of course, it was.”

“Right.” Mum exhales sharply, clasping her hands together. “Well then… when can we meet him?”

Dad didn’t wait for me to answer before cutting in, his voice sharp and laced with suspicion. “And is he going to step up, or is he some bloody coward shirking his responsibilities? Because if he’s left you to deal with this on your own, I swear to God, Luna—”

“He hasn’t abandoned me!” I interrupt, feeling the heat rise in my voice. “He’s—he’s nothing like that.”

“Then who is he?” Mum presses, her eyebrow furrowing deeply. “What does he do? How did you meet him? And why the bloody hell hasn’t he introduced himself to us yet?”

I open my mouth, struggling to form a coherent response, but the truth tangled in my throat. What was I supposed to say? Oh, he’s a hybrid prince of the supernatural world who occasionally threatens to disembowel people but is really quite sweet with me.

Dad wasn’t having my hesitation. “Well? Is he good enough for you? Because if he’s not—”

“He’s good enough,” I blurt out, my voice cracking under the pressure. “More than good enough. He loves me. He’d do anything for me.”

The room went quiet for a moment, the weight of their gazes pressing down on me like a storm cloud. Finally, Mum sighs, her voice softer now. “We’re not angry, Luna. But you’ve been gone for so long. This is a lot to take in. We just want to know you’re safe and happy.”

“I am,” I say, though my voice wavers. “I really am.”

Dad crosses his arms, his expression still stern but tinged with worry. “If he’s serious about you, he needs to meet us. We’ll decide what kind of man he is when we see him.”

“I…” I falter, glancing down at my lap. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” Mum echoes, narrowing her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

And there it was—the moment I’d dreaded. The moment when the truth would change everything. My heart pounds as I try to find the words to explain the impossible.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I want you to know the truth before…”

“Before what, Luna?” mum asks.

I swallow hard, meeting her worried gaze. “Before you hate me.”

Her eyes widen. “Hate you? Don’t be ridiculous. Whatever it is, we’ll sort it out. Just tell us.”

Dad crosses his arms, leaning back with a heavy sigh. “Go on then. Spit it out.”

I take a deep breath, bracing myself. “He’s… a vampire.”

The room went silent. Dead silent.

Then they exchanged a look—one of those loaded parental looks that only years of marriage could perfect—before all three of them burst into laughter.

“Oh, you had me going there!” Dad wheeze, slapping his knee. “A vampire!”

“What’s next, he sparkles in the sunlight?” my sister adds.

Mum chuckles, shaking her head. “Honestly, Luna, if you didn’t want to tell us, you could’ve just said he’s got a questionable haircut or too many tattoos.”

“Maybe he’s a goth and she’s trying to soften the blow,” my sister chimes in, smirking. “Vampire, though? You’ve been watching too much telly.”

“I’m not joking.”

The laughter dies down, but their smiles linger as they exchange uncertain glances.

“Luna,” Mum says cautiously, tilting her head. “Sweetheart, we’re trying to understand, but… vampires don’t exist.”

“They do,” I insist, my voice firmer now. “And he’s one of them. I’m serious.”

Dad frowns, his eyebrows knitting together. “You’re pulling our leg. You have to be.”

“I’m not!” I snap, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “And it’s not just him. I’m… I’m one too.”

The air seems to leave the room all at once. Their smiles vanish, replaced by stunned, wide-eyed disbelief.

“You’re what?” Mum whispers, her voice trembling.

“A vampire,” I repeat, my voice quieter now but unwavering. “I’m a vampire. I was turned. And I’m pregnant with his child.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“You’re mental,” my sister says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Luna…” Mum begins, her face pale with worry. “This isn’t funny anymore.”

“Right,” Dad says. “Enough of this nonsense. Whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into, we’ll sort it. Just come home.”

“I can’t,” I say, my voice cracking. “I can’t come home, and you can’t come to me. It’s too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous?” Mum echoes, her voice rising with panic. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

I close my eyes, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill. “You wouldn’t understand. But I need you to trust me. Please.”

“Luna, you’re scaring us,” Mum says, her voice breaking.

“You think I’m not scared?” I snap, my own fear and frustration boiling over. “My life isn’t what it was. It’s never going to be the same. I wanted to tell you the truth because you deserve it, but now you know, and you have to let me go.”

Dad stares at me, his face hard but his eyes glistening. “We can’t just let you go, Luna. You’re our daughter.”

“And I love you for that,” I whisper, my heart breaking. “But this is goodbye. You’re not going to remember any of this,” my voice cracking.

“Like the hell, we won’t,” my dad scoffs.

“Luna baby just tell us where you are,” my mum pledges.

“Yeah, Lu, this isn’t funny,” my sister says.

“I love you guys so much. No one could have asked for a better family.” Then I heard a knock on the door and I knew it was Ace. “I love you, and I’m so sorry.” I hang up before they can get another word in.

Onyx holds me close as I crumble in his arms, my tears soaking into his shirt. My chest heaving with sobs, each one harder than the last. The story was simple: a drunk driver, a tragic accident, and I died on impact. Quick. Painless. Tomorrow, they’d begin to plan my funeral, crying over my photos and holding onto each other for comfort. The day after, they’d remind themselves of how much I loved them, how I’d want them to move on, to be happy. After the funeral, they’d pack up and start fresh somewhere else.

“You did the right thing,” Onyx murmurs, his voice a low rumble in my ear.

“The right thing?” I scoff bitterly, pulling back to look at him. “Compelling my family to be happy without me? To forget me like I’m some ghost story?”

“It’s safer this way,” he says gently, brushing a tear from my cheek. “And you can still check in on them when you need to.”

I nod weakly, though the weight in my chest didn’t ease. Instead, it sit there like a stone, heavy and unyielding. I bury my face back into his chest, letting the scent of him ground me as the tears continued to fall. At least they’d be taken care of. That much Onyx had ensured, even before I’d asked. My parents would never accept money outright—I knew them too well for that. And while I could have Ace compel them to, the thought of doing so made me feel hollow. Onyx had thought of everything. A life insurance policy in my name, perfectly executed and legally sound, deposited directly into their account. Enough to ensure they’d live comfortably for the rest of their lives. Dad could keep working if he wanted, or he could retire early. The choice was his now.

I’ve toyed with the idea of turning them. God, I’d spent sleepless nights considering it. I’d do it in a heartbeat, except for Jamie, of course. But I know my parents would never agree. They’d see it as a curse, not the gift I selfishly wanted it to be. Maybe I can—

“No.”

“Now you choose to grow a bloody conscience,” I sniffle. “They’ll eventually come around.”

“If you turn them against their will, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“No, I won’t,” I’d argued.

“Yes, you will,” he replies, his voice firm but laced with understanding.

And damn it, he was right. I hate it when he’s right. “Bugger.”

Onyx kisses the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. “They’ll be fine. And so will you.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t ready to believe him yet. But for now, I let his presence be enough, even as my heart aches for the life I could never go back to.

---

Chapter 60: Strings in the Dark.

“We don’t even know if it’ll actually work,” Sirius says, his tone sceptical.
“It’s a gamble,” Theron adds, arms crossed.
“Feels more like a suicide mission to me,” Ace mutters darkly.
“But it’s the only plan we’ve got,” Aurora argues, determination flashing in her eyes.

While the rest of us argue and debate, voices clashing like swords on a battlefield, Onyx and Lia remain conspicuously silent. They watch the chaos unfold, their expressions unreadable. I can’t tell if their silence was a sign of quiet confidence or something far more unsettling. Was it wisdom, or were they simply waiting for us to unravel on our own? Either way, it left an uneasy knot in my stomach.

“And it’s still a gamble,” Skylar interjects, shaking her head.
“What proof do we even have that this will work?” Damian asks, his voice tinged with doubt.
“That’s the thing,” Avin says with a shrug, “we won’t know until we try.”

According to Everline’s family journals, King Hanlon sought out her ancestor, a powerful witch, to create the Mark of Lucian. His goal? To protect himself from Xanthus, the feral vampire king who’d become a terror even to his own kind. The irony? The plan failed miserably—King Hanlon ended up just as dead. The mark was later used on Xanthus himself, and that’s how the Lycan King managed to take him down. By the time we contacted King Valentine, he’d already pieced together his own research. Thank the heavens for that—I couldn’t stomach another bloody ancient journal. King Valentine explained that, according to his ancestral records, the Mark of Lucian only worked on Xanthus for a few seconds. But that brief moment was enough for the Lycan King—Valentine’s many-times-great-grandfather—to deliver the fatal blow. Neither King Hanlon nor the witch who crafted the mark knew the truth about Xanthus’ tribrid nature at the time. That’s why hybrids and tribrids are immune to the mark effect. Destroying the mark had been attempted, of course. It was too dangerous to leave intact. But every effort failed, and so it was hidden away from the world, buried in obscurity.

“And if it fails?” Skylar shoots back, her voice sharp. “What then? We’re out of options.”

“If we do nothing, we’re already out of options,” I say. “Sitting here debating won’t change that. But at least we tried. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not sitting around waiting for this curse to rip my family apart.” I take a deep breath, my voice trembling, but firm. “I know this is a long shot. I know the odds aren’t in my favour. But what’s the alternative? Doing nothing? Watching everything I love fall apart while we hesitate because it’s too risky? I can’t—no, I won’t—let that happen. I didn’t ask for any of this. And if there’s even a sliver of hope—no matter how slim—I’m going to grab it with both hands. I don’t need a lecture on the dangers or how this could go wrong. Trust me, I’ve already thought of every worst-case scenario. Because if this doesn’t work, at least I’ll know I gave it everything I had.”

“We don’t even know if destroying the Mark will work,” Ace says.

According to King Valentine and Everline, the curse could be broken if we found something that King Hanlon wanted more than anything in the world like—his obsession with destroying Xanthus. The theory is that if we can destroy the Mark of Lucian, we can ultimately destroy the curse itself.

“How do we destroy the mark?” Damian asks.

“Blood,” Lia simply says for the first time. “One possible way to destroy the Mark is by using Prince Onyx’s Tribrid blood, as it’s theorized that his lineage and his connection to Xanthus might allow him to unravel or destroy the very magic that sustains the Mark. The blood of a true descendant could act as a counterforce to the curse, neutralizing the magic binding it. However, this would require immense precision, and there’s no guarantee that it would work as expected, considering the powerful forces at play.”

“Could you repeat that, but slower?” Damian asks, his eyebrow furrowing in confusion.

“That makes sense,” Aurora says slowly. “It explains why they took his memories away. They must have tried to use the Mark on him in the cave, but it backfired. The Mark doesn’t work on hybrids or tribrids.”

“Then his blood should be able to destroy it right?” Avin asks.

“It should,” Lia says.

“But?” Avin arches an eyebrow at her.

“While it is probable that Onyx’s blood could disrupt the Mark influence, there is no certainty that it will eradicate the curse. This is a realm of magic we have yet to explore. We are dealing with forces that transcend our current understanding.”

Avin’s eyebrow furrows as he absorbs her words, his tone sharp. “So, what exactly are you implying?”

“What I am implying is that while this is the most viable option available, it is not without substantial risk. We cannot predict the full scope of the repercussions. It is entirely possible that attempting to destroy the Mark could amplify the curse, or result in unforeseen consequences. We must prepare for every possible outcome, including failure.”

“There has to be another way,” Aurora says. “ There must be.”

“Another possible avenue involves finding the same wood used in creating the Curse and the Mark of Lucian.”

Ace raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Now we’re talking. Where is this wood?”

“Destroyed centuries ago,” Lia replies flatly.

Ace’s face falls. “Destroyed? Then how the hell are we supposed to get the wood?”

We’re not,” Onyx finally speaks, flipping his dagger in the air and catching it with a casual flick of his wrist.

Everyone turns toward him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“We’ll use what we already have—the bloodline, the magic. The Mark’s tied to me—my blood, my heritage. We don’t need to chase shadows when the answer’s already in front of us. We can keep debating and wasting time, or we can get to work. Find me that Mark.”

So our hunt begins and leads us to where this all began. The Wintercrest Hunter pack wasn’t exactly thrilled to have us, but Wyatt was more than accommodating. Of course, Onyx kept me glued to his side, acting like a jealous, overprotective mate. You’d think that after marking me and knowing I was carrying his children, he’d ease up. But no, he was still like a mad, crazed boyfriend, glaring at anyone who even looked my way. Honestly, though? It kinda turned me on.

I know, I know. I’ve lost my mind. But you’ve never seen the man naked. Or met someone who could make your toes curl and your core tremble with just a few dirty words. And his kisses? Don’t even get me started. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to drive me wild, hitting all the right spots. However, Onyx wasn’t the only one on edge. Zuri, Aurora, and Skylar had to physically stop me from throttling a few of the she-wolves who thought it’d be a great idea to eye up my man. I’m not proud of it but don’t judge me. Blame my hormones. Anyway, we had a rat to deal with. Her name was Asea, and she had an unhealthy obsession with Wyatt. She wasn’t much use to us, though—by the time we got to her place, she’d already slit her own throat. The only thing left was the countless photos of Wyatt… and a few disturbing ones of me, with my head cut off and replaced by hers. Creative. Sickening, too. Apparently, her reward for helping Marco was Wyatt. She wanted to be his mate. There was something about all of this that didn’t sit right with me, but most of the pieces seemed to fit. The hunter was using Wyatt to take down the Lycan king who would then take down Onyx. But there was still something off. I could feel it gnawing at the back of my mind, like a puzzle with one piece that didn’t quite belong. I just couldn’t place it. It didn’t add up. Something about her obsession with him felt off almost like it was planned.

Things took a massive turn when King Octavius made an announcement that rocked the supernatural world. Onyx was going to be the next king. Of course, he made sure that my identity and the triplets’ existence were kept under wraps for our safety. I wasn’t complaining. The last thing I needed was for every power-hungry clan, pack, or coven to know about my little family. Then Onyx really dropped the bombshell—he declared war on the hunters. He was done hiding behind rumours and whispers. Every clan, pack, and coven had to pick a side. The hunters were suddenly terrified, and it wasn’t long before they started making some really stupid mistakes. That’s when we got to have some fun. And guess who became the most dangerous shot in the group? Damian spent a whole week sulking and whining, surrounded by his many female companions.

“Penny for your thoughts, or I could always have a look myself,” Onyx teases, settling next to me in the swing on the patio.

“That girl... I don’t know, it’s silly.”

“Go on,” he urges.

“I’ve just got this feeling, you know? Something’s not right.”

“Like why would she be obsessed with that idiot?”

I shove his arm playfully. “He’s not that bad.”

“Are you defending him now?” His voice holds a hint of jealousy.

“Calm down. I’m just saying, he’s actually an alright bloke once you get to know him.”

“If he goes near you, he’s dead,” Onyx says flatly, and I roll my eyes.”What brought this up suddenly?” he asks, shifting closer.

“I just got off the phone with Zuri. We were talking, and she mentioned Asea’s body went missing.”

“And you think it’s got something to do with Amber?”

“How do you know—”

“Wyatt told me about the body gone missing.”

“You ripped her heart out, and she got up and walked away—how do we know Asea didn’t do the same?” I met Onyx’s gaze, a chill creeping up my spine.

“We don’t.”

“I don’t think Asea was truly obsessed with Wyatt. I believe it was all part of a plan—a carefully constructed facade. Everything about it felt too rehearsed, too orchestrated. And I can’t shake the feeling that Asea’s death... it’s not the end of this. We don’t even know their motives or how to find them. Maybe we could—”

“No,” he interrupts sharply.

“You don’t even know what I was going to suggest!” I shoot back, crossing my arms.

“Oh, I know exactly what you were going to suggest.” His tone is flat, but his eyes burn with frustration.

“And it might actually work!” I argue, tilting my chin defiantly.

“We are not using you—or our unborn children—as bait.” He rises to his full height.

“But—”

“No buts, Luna.” His voice softens, but the resolve behind it is like iron. “This isn’t a debate. Whatever’s happening out there, it’s bigger than us. Dead supernaturals aren’t just walking around for no reason. There’s a plan, and we’re not going to fall into their trap by being reckless.”

I sigh, my lips pursed in frustration. “Fine,” I mutter, even though the wheels in my mind are already turning.

“Promise me, Luna. No sneaking off, no half-baked schemes. I need you safe. All of you.”

“I promise,” I say softly, even though the rebellious part of me bristled at the command.

There was a long silence before he finally spoke again, his voice low. “We need answers, but we can’t get reckless. Let me talk to the Elders. Maybe they know something we don’t.”

“Whatever this is, it’s watching us. Waiting. And if we don’t figure it out soon, we’ll be the ones playing catch-up.”

“Then we’ll figure it out. Together. No risks. No bait. For now, we have enough problems to worry about.”

Yeah, like not dying.

---

Chapter: 61 The Bitten and the Damned.

Most of our raids turned up absolutely nothing. Zilch. Nada. The traitor in our midst was doing a bloody good job of keeping their cover, and it was driving everyone bonkers. Onyx hated that I insisted on helping, but what choice did he have? I told him I’d stop once I started to show— and not just the ‘is she pregnant or just had a massive lunch’ phase. It took some serious convincing, but in the end, he decided he’d rather have me where he could see me than sneaking off like a rebellious teenager.

Skylar being the clever clogs she is, made me a necklace that not only masked my scent but also concealed the pregnancy entirely. Bloody brilliant. Meanwhile, Aurora got a bit of FOMO and decided to contribute in the form of matching leather outfits. But mostly, they were just to tease the guys.

Then Wyatt rang me. Why me, you ask, and not Onyx? Well, Wyatt’s last two hunches cost Onyx a ridiculous number of warriors. If he dared utter the word “hunch” to Onyx again, I’m fairly certain Onyx would gift-wrap his face in leather—minus the breathing holes.

“He’s going to kill us,” Aurora groans for what feels like the hundredth time in two hours.

“Not if we get caught first because of your big mouth,” I hiss, trying to keep my voice low.

We were staking out an old, crumbling department store that had been abandoned for the past five years—or so they said. Recently, this town and three others nearby had reported an unusual number of people vanishing without a trace. Wyatt thinks the hunters were involved and using this place as a base of sorts. His Romanian contact confirmed it—or at least hinted strongly enough that we were now squatting in a bush, waiting for something to happen.

Onyx, meanwhile, thought we were at a spa. A nice, relaxing, well-deserved girls’ day out. If he had the faintest clue we were here instead… well, let’s just say killing us would be putting it lightly.

“For the love of God, will you two shut up?” Skylar snaps, glaring daggers at us from her crouched position.

“She started it,” I mumble petulantly, crossing my arms.

“Did not,” Aurora shoots me a playful glare.

“Did too.”

Skylar whips her head around so fast I thought she might actually burst a blood vessel. “I swear to God, if you two don’t shut up, I’m dragging both your asses out of here myself.”

Aurora and I exchange glances, then simultaneously stick our tongues out at her.

“Mature,” she mutters.

“We think so,” I say with a smirk, nudging Aurora, who stifled a giggle.

Skylar groans and runs a hand down her face. “Unbelievable. I’m risking my neck out here with toddlers.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Sky,” I tease. “If we were toddlers, we’d be much louder.”

“Yeah,” Aurora chimes in. “And probably covered in mud by now.”

“Honestly, I preferred the thought of mud,” Sky says. “At least then you wouldn’t be talking.”

Aurora snickers. “Aw, you’d miss us and you know it.”

“Miss? I’d celebrate.” Skylar adjusts her position, peering out toward the building. “Now can you please focus? I don’t want to explain to the prince why I let you two get yourselves killed on my watch.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Aurora says. She leans closer to me and whispers, “She totally would miss us.”

I bit back a laugh and elbow her lightly. Focus. Right. Sure. Any minute now.

A rustling sound from the far end of the building snaps us back into focus. All three of us freeze, our petty bickering instantly forgotten as we strain our ears.

“Did you hear that?” Aurora whispers.

“Of course, we heard it,” Skylar says. “We’re not deaf.”

I squint through the leaves, trying to spot the source of the noise. “Could just be a stray animal,” I whisper, though I don’t believe it for a second.

Skylar shook her head, her jaw tight. “Stray animals don’t hang around places where people keep disappearing.”

“Well whatever it is we can take them, it’s three of us,” I say.

“More like two and a half,” Skylar says. “I’m not counting you at full strength.”

“I’ll have you know I’m just as capable as ever. Pregnant, not powerless, thank you very much.”

Aurora snorts softly. “You do have that whole scary mom vibe going for you lately. Like, one wrong move, and she’ll pull out a wooden spoon.”

Skylar let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. “We need to check that out before the prince starts wondering why a simple spa trip is taking five bloody hours.”

“I don’t hear a heartbeat,” I say. “Or breathing. Maybe it’s just the wind rustling the leaves or something?”

“That’s because it’s cloaked,” Skylar says.

Aurora’s eyebrow shoots up. “And when, pray tell, were you planning on sharing that little nugget of information?”

Skylar crosses her arms. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe when you two stopped bickering like a pair of hormonal teenagers at a school dance?”

We roll our eyes.

“Lead the way, fearless leader,” I say, gesturing dramatically.

Skylar shoots me a playful glare but doesn’t bother replying. She creeps forward, keeping low, with Aurora and me following close behind.

The rustling came again, louder this time. It wasn’t leaves or wind. These were footsteps—slow, deliberate, and far too close for comfort.

Skylar halts and holds up a hand, signalling us to stop. Her other hand moves to her blade with practised ease. I mirror her instinctively, my fingers brushing the hilt of my gun.

“If it’s cloaked,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, “then why can we hear the rustling but not a heartbeat? Or breathing? Or anything else?”A knot of unease tightened in my stomach, twisting like a warning I couldn’t ignore. “This doesn’t feel right.”

Skylar’s eyes dart toward me, her expression grim. “Because whatever it is, it’s playing with us.”

“It’s a trap,” Aurora says.

“Then why,” I hiss through clenched teeth, “are we still standing here?”

“Because whoever’s behind the rustling knows we’re here,” Skylar says. “They’re letting us hear only what they want us to hear.”

“So we’re walking straight into their hands,” I whisper-yell, my fingers tightening around my weapon. “Should we run or call for backup?”

Skylar’s lips curl into a humourless smirk. “If they wanted us dead, they had their chance—while you two were bickering for hours. And yet, here we are.”

“Wait a minute, you tell us for the past five hours you knew something was here?” Aurora asks.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” I gape at her.

“No.”

“So this whole time we were waiting to see who would make the first move?” I ask.

“Exactly.” Skylar’s grip on her blade didn’t falter. “They’re testing us. Whoever it is wants to see how we’ll react. Panic, run, fight—it’s all a game to them. The place is dripping in dark magic.”

“Last I checked humans can’t cast cloaking spells. And they sure as bloody hell don’t have the Dark Crystal anymore.”

“Crystals aren’t the only ones with magic abilities,” Skylar says.

“Great so now they have witches or faes on their side,” Aurora mumbles. “So, what, we’re just supposed to wait for them to make another rushing sound?”

“No,” Skylar says. “We bait them.”

“Bait them?” Aurora asks, incredulous. “Are you serious? That’s your grand plan? What if the bait becomes lunch?”

“Then don’t get caught,” Skylar says with a shrug as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Aurora, you’re the fastest. You’ll draw it out.”

Aurora’s eyes narrow. “Oh, of course. Send the one with the best hair to get shredded. Fantastic strategy, Sky.”

Skylar ignores her sarcasm. “You’ll be fine.”

Aurora sighs dramatically. “Guess I’ll just add living decoy to my résumé. Let’s get this over with.”

She circles the building toward the source of the noise, her steps deliberate and unhurried. Meanwhile, we stay back, pressed against the wall, every muscle coiled tight with anticipation.

“Hmm, I guess that really was nothing. I should head back now,” she says as she pretends to leave.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, a low growl rumbles beside the dumpster. My breath caught as something massive and scary-looking materialized.

Aurora glances back slowly at the monster, her lips twitching into a nervous grin. “Well. That’s… bigger than I expected.”

It wasn’t just a werewolf—it was something grotesque and wrong. Its body is warped, limbs elongated and twisted like broken branches, its massive form hunching as though the weight of its mutation was too much to bear. Patches of fur cling to its mottled, greyish skin, and its glowing red eyes locked onto Aurora with a hunger that made my blood run cold.

Aurora doesn’t flinch. “Well,” she grabs her Bow tighter, “that’s definitely not going on the list of things I wanted to see today.”

The beast roars, the sound deep and guttural, vibrating through the ground beneath us. Then it charges.

Aurora darts to the side, graceful and impossibly fast and shoots the beast in the head, killing it on the spot.

“What is that?” I stare at the grotesque figure before us.

Skylar doesn’t take her eyes off the creature, her blade still raises. “A werewolf shift gone wrong,” she says grimly.

“When someone tries to shift into a werewolf, it’s not always a clean transformation. If the body isn’t strong enough, or the magic used to trigger the shift is unstable, the process goes haywire. Their bones stretch, twist—break. Muscles tear and reform in ways they aren’t meant to. It’s agonizing, and they end up stuck. Neither human nor wolf. Just… that,” Aurora explains. “They don’t survive long. The pain, the deformities—it’s too much. But some, like this one, they adapt. They become feral, driven by instinct and rage. They’re strong, but they’ve lost everything that made them human. Even another werewolf wouldn’t recognize them.”

“Is it just me or was that too easy,” I say.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Skylar says.

Suddenly the sound of dry branches snapping echoes around us. One by one, twisted figures emerged. With a collective, guttural roar, they charge. Aurora lets loose an arrow, the glowing tip striking one of the beasts in the chest. It stumbles but doesn’t stop, charging at her with horrifying speed. She leaps back, firing another arrow into its head, and it collapses with a sickening thud.

Skylar was already moving, her blade slicing cleanly through the twisted limb of another werewolf as she sent another flying with her magic. I raise my gun, firing at the nearest one. The shot tears through its shoulder, slowing it down, but it keeps coming, its jaw snapping inches from my face before Skylar’s blade comes down, cleaving its head clean off.

“There’s too many!” I shout my voice tight with panic as the creatures close in on us.

“The door!” Aurora exclaims, her eyes flicking toward the entrance.

We don’t hesitate. Aurora and I open fire into the horde as we try to slow them down. The creatures shriek and howl, some stumbling back from the impact, but more surged forward.

Skylar was already ahead, her hands glowing with magic as she focuses on the door. “Almost there!”

We keep firing, buying her just enough time. Finally, with a sharp click, the door creaks open. Without wasting a second, we bolt inside, slamming the door shut behind us. Skylar steps forward, her magic swirling around her fingertips. She mutters something under her breath, and the door glows briefly before sealing us off from the nightmare outside.

I lean against the door, breathing heavily. “That... was too close.”

“You can say that again,” Aurora exhales.

Skylar let out a breath. “We’re safe—for now. But they’ll keep coming.”

“Will that hold?” I ask as the creatures pound against the door, their growls vibrating through the steel.

Skylar wipes blood from her blade, her expression grim. “For now.”

“For now isn’t exactly comforting,” I mumble as I look around the dimly lit department store.

Broken, naked mannequins hang from twisted limbs, their glass eyes staring blankly. Clothes, torn and scattered across the floor, lay tangled with empty hangers and half-empty racks. The signs hanging crookedly had all their colours washed out, barely visible, smothered in dust and cobwebs. The walls were stained with dark watermarks. Mildew creeps up like a disease, while graffiti slashes across the faded paint. The windows are boarded up, leaving the place suffocatingly dark, abandoned, and filled with an eerie presence that screams haunted.

“Do you smell that?” Aurora asks.

“Smell what?”

“Exactly,” she says keeping her crossbow close.

“I can fix that,” Skylar says mumbling something under her breath.

Then it hit me like a truck—a mix of chlorine, wet dog, vomit, blood, and something that made my stomach churn like a toilet exploded in the middle of the room.

“What is that smell?” I gag, shoving my gun back into its holster at my thigh.

Aurora lowers her crossbow, her voice low. “Bitten humans.”

“I guess the Alpha’s hunch was right after all,” Skylar says pulling out her phone, no doubt about to text Sirius.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my eyebrow furrowing.

“Calling for backup,” she replies without looking up, her fingers already flying over the screen. “Those things outside aren’t going to give up, and who knows how many humans they’ve already turned.”

“Where is that stench coming from?” I ask crinkling my nose.

“I’m betting a basement,” Aurora says as we follow her and she is right.

Aurora grips her crossbow as Skylar slowly turns the knob. The stench hit us like a physical blow—stronger, rancid, and almost suffocating—as we cautiously made our way down the stairs. The flickering fluorescent lights above us buzzed erratically, casting eerie shadows like something straight out of a horror movie. As we reached the bottom, I froze. The scene before me felt unreal. On an old, brown sofa, two hunters lounged, the flicker of a TV casting a cold glow on their faces as they lazily sipped beer. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. What did was the cages. Dozens of them. Inside, naked, beaten humans lay in their own filth—vomit, waste, blood—some foaming at the mouth, others twitching or crying out in pain. A few were deformed, their bodies twisted in unnatural ways, shaking violently as if the agony was too much to bear. One of the hunters shouted something in Romanian, but I barely registered it. My focus was on the faces in those cages. A familiar scent hit my nose then, and for a moment, I couldn’t place it. Aurora and Skylar quickly dealt with the hunters as I sought out the scent and then I saw him.

“Sam!”

My breath caught in my throat as I saw him. He writhed on the floor, his body contorting in agony as if something inside him was tearing him apart. His face twists in pain, muscles spasming violently as the transformation tears through him. My chest tightens, and a deep ache spreads through my heart.

Then, he looks up at me, his gaze filled with desperation. But something is horribly wrong. His mouth begins to stretch, his jaw elongating as his lips curl into a twisted snout. Half of his face shifts into something unnatural, half human, half wolf, the skin splits as dark fur sprouts across his cheeks. It’s a grotesque, incomplete transformation, one that is killing him.

I froze, horrified, as one of his eyes began to swell, grotesque and unnatural, like a balloon inflating under his skin. I could hear the sickening pop as it burst, blood spurting out in a violent spray. A ragged, guttural scream rips from his throat, but it was cut off by a final, gurgling cough. His body convulsed one last time before he went limp, lifeless in his cage with blood pooling around him. And he wasn’t the only one.

“Oh my…” I can’t find the words as tears stream down my face and I try my best not to barf. “Who could… This is…”

“Princess,” my head snaps back to the cage behind me, and my heart plummets. That scent—it was unmistakable.

My brother.

---

Chapter 62: Smoke and Mirrors.

There, hunched on the cold floor, was Avin. He sits in his own vomit, covered in sweat, his body shaking uncontrollably like a leaf in a storm. His bruised face lifts slightly, his eyes unfocused, and a faint groan escapes him. “Is that really you?”

“Avin!” I rush to his cage, my hands trembling as I yank the silver padlock off, breaking it open with desperate force. I pull him out carefully, easing him into my arms. His head falls onto my lap, and I cradle him against me, unable to hold back the flood of tears.

“Oh, God... What happened?” I cry, my voice breaking, as I stroke his damp hair.

“Got jacked on my way to the airport,” Avin rasps, his voice strained.

He tries to chuckle, but it comes out more like a grimace, pain flashing across his bruised face. His torso is a canvas of black and purple bruises. I can smell the venom running through his veins, a scent so sharp it makes my stomach churn.

I wipe the tears from my eyes, cradling his head closer. “You’re going to be alright.”

His breathing hitches, and he shifts slightly, his eyes darkening with a mixture of exhaustion and warning. “You need to leave... now.”

“What?” My grip tightens on him. “No, I’m not leaving you. We’re getting out of here, together.”

He tries to push himself up, but his body trembles violently, unable to hold his weight. His breath hitches as he coughs, wincing in pain. “You don’t understand,” he gasps, his eyes wide with fear. “Thorn is here. It’s a trap.”

Before I can respond, the basement suddenly lit up, the fluorescent lights snapping on all at once, illuminating every corner of the grim space as the sound of heavy footsteps echoes down a staircase to the left.

“Ah, what a beautiful family reunion,” a smooth, mocking voice called out from the shadows.

A tall and muscular man with blonde hair and green eyes that was sharp and intense. He wore a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean frame, moving with smooth, deliberate grace.

Skylar and Aurora stood by my side, helping Avin to his feet, their expressions tense and alert.

Thorn’s eyes flick to me, a cold smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re even more beautiful in person,” he says, his voice smooth but laced with venom. “But I suppose being a bloodsucking leech does have its privileges.” He says, his disgust palpable as he spits the words out.

I clench my fists, trying to ignore the sting of his words. “You really have a way with compliments. Thorn, I presume? Do you talk to all women like that, or is it just me?”

“I don’t waste time on people like you. You’re nothing more than a monster in disguise, a parasite feeding off the suffering of others.”

“Funny,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “because last time I checked hunters were supposed to protect humans, not turn them into werewolves. Seems like the real monsters aren’t the ones you think.”

Aurora narrows her eyes, her grip tightening on her crossbow, while Skylar stood silent, her focus never wavering.

Thorn’s eyes narrow. “You don’t have a clue what it means to protect humans.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And yet, here you are, kidnapping humans and turning them into monsters—using them like tools for your own twisted agenda. Funny how that works, isn’t it? You’re the real monster here, Thorn.”

“I’m doing what needs to be done,” he retorts as if his actions were justified.

“By hurting those you swore to protect?” I shoot back.

“You mean like your brother and his friends. They were traitors. And most of the humans you see here volunteered for the cause.”

“Did you tell them what would happen to them?” Aurora asks.

“They know the risk.”

“They know the risk?” I repeat, my voice low, almost mocking. “Sounds like you’re just as much of a monster as the ones you claim to hunt.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to be me,” he snarls. “To watch the world crumble and realize that your only option is to do whatever it takes to survive. If that means using a few volunteers, so be it.”

Aurora’s grip tightens on her crossbow. “Survival at any cost, huh? So that justifies turning humans into weapons? Letting them suffer and die for your cause?”

“He took everything from me, and now it’s my turn to take it all back.”

A voice, smooth and dripping with sarcasm says from behind us, “Daddy issues.” Onyx’s voice is full of mockery. “Aren’t you a bit old for that kind of melodrama?”

“At least he’s got the whole tragic villain vibe down,” says Ace. “But you might want to switch it up a bit.”

“It’s getting a little too predictable,” Sirius says. “Without your precious Crystal to protect you.”

“You think you’ve won?” Thorn says, his voice laced with far too much confidence for my liking. “But you have no idea what’s coming.”

Onyx rolls his shoulders. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we were all supposed to tremble in fear at your brilliant plans. Maybe you should’ve written them down.”

“Might make them easier to follow,” Ace adds.

“Make all the jokes you want,” Thorn says, his voice dripping with amusement as he casually starts walking back up the staircase.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ace demands, his voice low with a threatening edge. In an instant, he darts across the room, reaching for Thorn with lightning speed.

But before his hand can even graze Thorn’s shoulder, an invisible force slams into Ace, sending him flying back across the room with bone-jarring force.

Thorn let out a dark laugh, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You think I came unprepared?” he taunts, his smirk widening. “Think again.”

Ace staggers to his feet, eyes burning with fury as he wipes the blood from his lip. “You think that’ll stop me?” he growls, his fists clenching.

Thorn glances back over his shoulder, a smug grin spreading across his face. “I don’t think. I know.”

“Who are you?” Onyx asks. “We both know you’re not Thorn.”

Thorn froze mid-step, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before returning, sharper and more dangerous. He turns slowly to face Onyx, his expression a mask of mockery and intrigue. “Not Thorn?” he echoes, his voice low and velvety, dripping with false innocence. “Oh, Onyx, always so perceptive. But does it really matter who I am, or is it more about who I might be?”

“If you’re not Thorn, then you’re someone’s pawn—or worse, someone’s puppet. So which is it?”

Thorn’s grin widens as if the challenge amuses him. “A puppet? Hardly. A pawn? Never. But let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I am something else entirely. What then? Would that change anything?”

“Doesn’t matter who you are. Dead is dead.”

Thorn raises an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Dead is dead? But from what I’ve heard some dead don’t die.”

I glance at Onyx. He already knew.

Ace takes a step forward, his fists clenched, but Onyx holds up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Save your breath, Thorn—or whoever you are,” Onyx says coolly. “We’re not here for your riddles. We’re here for answers.”

Thorn let out a low chuckle, the sound echoing like a distant storm. “Answers? Oh, Onyx, you of all people should know the truth isn’t something you’re entitled to. It’s something you take. But by all means, keep trying. It’s amusing to watch you fail.”

“You want to play games? Fine. But you’re not leaving this room without telling us what we need to know.”

Thorn pauses, his expression flickering with a hint of genuine curiosity. “Is that so?” he drawls, his tone mocking but laced with something more—something dangerous. “And what, pray tell, will you do if I decide to walk out of here anyway?”

Onyx’s voice drops to a lethal whisper, his eyes locked with Thorn’s. “Then I’ll make sure you don’t walk out at all.”

For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension, thick and suffocating.

“Very well,” he says, spreading his arms in a mock gesture of surrender. “Ask your questions. Let’s see if your little minds can handle the answers.”

“Start with the truth. Who are you, and what do you want?”

Thorn tilts his head, his grin fading into a more serious expression. “Who am I?” he muses, almost to himself. “You’ve been dancing around the answer all night. Perhaps it’s time you looked a little closer.” His eyes glint with something almost inhuman as he takes a deliberate step forward, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “You think you’re hunting me, but the truth is, you’ve been mine to play with from the very beginning.”

“Enough with the cryptic nonsense. If you’re trying to scare us, you’ll have to do better than that.”

Thorn chuckles, low and cold, a sound that sends a shiver through the room. “Oh, Onyx, always the brave one.”

Ace snaps, his patience wearing thin. “You’ve got one chance to stop talking in circles and start making sense, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Thorn interrupts, his tone sharp as a blade. “Charge at me again? Get thrown across the room like a ragdoll? Face it, Ace—you’re out of your depth.”

Ace snarls, taking a threatening step forward, but Onyx stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t,” Onyx mutters, his eyes never leaving Thorn. “That’s what he wants.”

Thorn’s grin returns, wicked and taunting. “Smart boy. Maybe you’re not as dense as I thought.” He turns his back to us, casually running a hand along the bannister as he ascends another step.

“Quit dodging the question and say it plainly—unless you’re scared.”

Thorn pauses mid-step, his shoulders stiffening for a split second before he turns, his smirk sharp enough to cut glass. “Scared?” his voice dripping with mockery. “Oh, Onyx, you truly don’t understand who you’re dealing with, do you?”

“Then enlighten me,” Onyx shoots back, his tone cold and unwavering. “Unless that fancy suit is just hiding your cowardice.”

Thorn’s expression darkens, his smirk twisting into something more sinister. “You want plain words, fine.” He descends a step, his presence radiating menace. “You’re not ready for the truth, because the moment you hear it, your world will collapse. Everything you think you know—about me, about yourself—will crumble into nothing.”

“Big talk for someone who’s too scared to say a damn thing,” Sirius says.

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, his eyes flicking briefly to me before settling back on Onyx. “As for what I want—” his lips curl into a cold smirk— “You’ve already taken care of that.” He takes a step up the staircase, his tone mocking as he speaks. “Oh, and by the way... I’ve got a few friends who want to say hello.”

As if on cue, the heavy creak of the basement door echoes through the room, and suddenly, hundreds of wolves surge into the basement, tumbling down the stairs in chaotic heaps.

“Time to go,” Onyx says, his voice low and urgent as he grabs my hand. Without a second thought, he scoops Avin up, throwing him effortlessly over his shoulder. The others spring into action, covering us as we rush up the staircase Thorn had just used. A black Range Rover screeches to a halt in front of us, Damian at the wheel. Onyx tosses Avin into the back.

Moments later everyone else emerged from the building, their clothes drenched in blood, faces grim. Skylar seals the door behind them with a wave of her hand, making sure nothing could follow.

“Get in,” Onyx barks, his sharp gaze darting around the area, every muscle in his body tense and alert. To say he was mad was an understatement.

I hesitate, glancing back. “What about the other humans? We can’t just leave them behind.”

“It’s too late.” His voice is flat, final.

He nods at Damian, who pulls a small detonator from his pocket. As the engine roars to life and the vehicle speeds off, the warehouse behind us erupts in a deafening explosion. The sound of metal tearing, glass shattering, and the howl of the rogues as they are engulfed in the blast was almost drowned out by the force of the shockwave that rocked the car.

“You killed them,” Avin rasps, his voice barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

“They were dying anyway,” Onyx replies coldly.

“Then why not let me die with them?” Avin spat, his words dripping with venom as he struggles to sit upright, blood trickling from his lips. “Why take me?”

“You know why,” Onyx says, his tone devoid of emotion.

“You think I want her to watch me die?” Avin snarls, his body convulsing as he coughs up more blood. His words dissolve into a scream as his back arches unnaturally, pain twisting his features.

“Avin, you’re not going to die,” I say desperately, reaching out to steady him.

“You don’t know that,” he chokes out, his voice raw with agony.

Before another scream tears from his throat Skylar leans over him, murmuring something under her breath. Within moments, his body goes limp, his ragged breathing evening out as he slips into unconsciousness.

“What did you do?” I demand, turning to her with wide eyes.

“I put him to sleep,” she says calmly, though her expression was grim. “It’s only temporary. When he wakes, the change will continue.”

“How was your spa day?” Onyx asks suddenly.

“It—It—Well—”

“It was all Luna’s idea,” Aurora stammers, pointing a finger at me.

“It was not,” I reply quickly, but Onyx raises an eyebrow at me, clearly unconvinced. “Pfft. Maybe,” I mutter. “But Wyatt—”

“I’m going to kill him,” Onyx growls, his voice low and full of menace.

“No, you’re not,” I say firmly. “His hunch was right this time.”

“And it nearly got you killed,” Onyx replies, his voice tinged with irritation.

“But it didn’t,” I chuckle nervously, trying to downplay the danger we’d just escaped.

“Only because we were already heading to your location when Skylar texted,” Onyx shoots back, his expression unreadable.

“How did you know where we were?” I ask.

“Thorn,” he says, his voice cool, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Thorn?” Aurora, Skylar, and I all asked in unison, the confusion clear in our voices.

“I thought that was a fake Thorn,” Aurora says, her eyebrow furrowing.

“It was,” Ace says, “because the real one is skinned alive in the dungeon.”

The imagery was enough to make my stomach turn. I grimace, trying to push the image from my mind. “I... I didn’t need to hear that.”

“Then who’s that guy?” Aurora asks.

“Someone who knows how to wield magic,” Skylar says. “And cast a protective shield around themself.”

“A witch?” I ask.

“Fae?” Aurora asks at the exact same time, her eyebrows furrow.

“I don’t know,” Skylar replies, her tone flat, a hint of frustration creeping in. “All I know is that whoever it is they’re powerful.”

“And knows about Amber and Asea,” I say. “It all has to be related.”

“It is,” Onyx says as if he knows it for a fact. “We just have to figure out how.”

“Wait, the chick with the hole in her chest was in there?” Damian asks. “Did anyone give her my number?”

---

Chapter 63: The First of Their Kind.

Onyx gave me two options, wait and see if Avin would survive the change, or end his suffering now. Of course, we both knew which choice I’d make. So, Onyx called in the Alpha King. I’m not sure how he did it, but King Valentine helped Avin pull through. He survived the change, but that didn’t mean he was handling it well. For the next few weeks, Avin was trained and given an ultimatum, either turn rogue or join a pack. Avin despised the idea.

“Fuck no!” Avin growls, his voice low and filled with venom. “I’m not kissing some alpha’s ass.” His eyes burn with defiance as he snarls at King Valentine.

Onyx sat on his throne, with me in his lap, the Reapers flanking us. King Valentine stood beside us, his face hard and unreadable, while Lia observed quietly from the sidelines.

I sigh, knowing this is about to go downhill. For the past two days, they’d tried to convince Avin to join a pack, but he wasn’t having any of it. King Valentine’s patience had worn thin, and I could feel the tension building, his control on the verge of snapping.

I got off Onyx’s lap, stepping forward quickly to intervene before things escalated further. “Avin, without a pack, you’ll lose your humanity. It’s –”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he snarls, cutting me off. “I’d rather die.” His words hit me like a physical blow, the cruelty in his tone enough to make me gasp.

“Avin!” Onyx’s wolf growls, the deep, rumbling sound of it filling with raw authority. “You do not speak to her that way.” The weight of his words carried so much power that Avin’s body instinctively submitted, his posture shifting, his eyes lowering.

I feel a surge of pride and heat flood through me at Onyx’s dominance. Focus, Luna—I force myself to snap out of it. But not before I caught the faintest tug at the corner of Onyx’s lips. He knew what I was thinking.

“I’m sorry, Lu,” Avin choked out, his voice trembling with something deeper than frustration. “I can’t do this. I—” His words broke off.

He drops to his knees. The sight of him so broken, so lost, felt like my heart was being torn in two. I kneel in front of him and I cup his face gently, lifting his chin to meet my eyes. His metallic grey eyes—so much like mine—shimmered with pain and tears.

“You’re my brother,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “You’ll be fine. You’ll get through this.”

“H-how do you know that?” he asks, his voice fragile and filled with doubt.

“Because you’re strong, Avin. You always have been. And no matter what, you’ll never be alone.”

Avin’s breath hitches as he tries to hold back the tears, but they come anyway. “I’m not strong, Luna,” he whispers his voice barely a breath, heavy with self-loathing. “Look at me. Look at what I’ve become. I’m a monster.”

I shake my head fiercely, refusing to let him spiral any further. “You’re not a monster,” I say firmly, my hands gripping his face to make sure he is looking at me. “You’re still you. You always will be.” My heart aches for him. “This isn’t the end of you, Avin. It’s just the beginning of something you’ll learn to control. You’re not alone in this. You’ve got us. You’ve got me.”

“I’m not sure who I am anymore.”

“You are still my brother. That’s who you are.” His lips part as if he wants to argue, but no words come out. “Whatever comes next, we face it together. You’re never going through this alone.”

“I don’t deserve this.”

“Yes, you do.” I pull him into a hug. “You deserve every bit of love and support we can give. You’ll never be alone. I’ll always be here.”

“Promise?” Avin’s voice is small and fragile as he pulls back slightly to look at me.

“Promise,” I reply, my voice steady as I meet his gaze, offering him the comfort he so desperately needs.

“So… do I still need a pack?” he asks, his tone hesitant, a mixture of uncertainty and hope.

I stand, a grin tugging at the corner of my lips. “I might have an idea about that.”

Onyx groans, rubbing his forehead. “This can’t be good,” he shakes his head, already dreading whatever plan I have in mind.

“He needs a pack…” I trail off.

Onyx’s face immediately hardens, and he shakes his head. “Don’t even think about it. No.”

King Valentine, ever the opportunist, leans forward with a sly grin. “That might actually work.”

“No,” Onyx snaps, his voice firm.

I pout, my lower lip sticking out. “Why not?”

“Because,” Onyx says, his eyes narrowing, “we are vampires.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re a Tribrid.”

“Doesn’t change a damn thing,” Onyx replies.

“Does too,” I exclaim.

“No,” he shoots back, his tone unyielding.

“Please?” I add, giving him my best pleading look.

“No.”

“Am I missing something here?” Damian asks.

Ace, never one to miss an opportunity to stir the pot, says, “You always miss something.”

“Fuck off, Ace.”

“Luna?” Avin calls out, his voice filled with confusion. “What’s going on?”

“You need a pack.”

“I don’t need a puppy training club.”

“It’s more than a puppy training club,” I say. “Less fetching, more snarling.”

Avin raises an eyebrow. “So, no tennis balls involved?”

“Only if you’re into that,” I quip. “But I’m pretty sure you’d be more of a growl at the ball and scare it off kind of bloke. Plus a pack could help you not, you know, completely lose it. There’s support, guidance, and probably some really intense pack bonding activities. You’ll get matching T-shirts, exclusive access to full moons, and a lifetime supply of werewolf-related drama. It’s the ultimate VIP membership.”

He crosses his arms, clearly sceptical. “You make it sound like a cult.”

“It’s not a cult. I think.”

“They know we can hear them, right?” King Valentine asks with a frown.

“Yep,” Onyx replies.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Avin scoffs. “I’m not signing up for that.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “You get to howl at the moon, fight off other packs, and occasionally ruin someone’s day with an epic growl. What’s not to love?”

“I’m not into all that pack shit,” he mutters, still resisting.

“Well, what’s your plan then?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Stay a lone wolf forever and turn into some senile rogue.”

“I don’t need anyone else telling me what to do.”

“They have free food.”

“I don’t need anyone to babysit me, and I can make my own food.”

“Babysitting isn’t the point, you big grump,” I tease, nudging him lightly. “Think of it more like... a werewolf support group. And since when can you make your own food? Last time I checked, microwaved dinners don’t exactly count as ‘making food.’”

“Hey, microwaved food is still food. It’s the future of cuisine. I’m just ahead of the curve.”

“Sure, if the curve is a sad, lonely plate of reheated leftovers. You probably can’t even make toast without burning it.”

“Is this how humans converse?” King Valentine asks.

“It got worse over the years,” Aurora answers.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised. I’m a microwave master. And just because I don’t make gourmet meals doesn’t mean I can’t survive.”

“Surviving is one thing. Living is another. You might survive on microwave meals, but you’re really going to need a pack if you want to thrive.”

“And you think I’m going to just roll over and join some pack because you said so?”

“Not roll over,” I reply with a grin, “but maybe you’ll consider it when you realize how much better it’ll be than living off instant noodles and frozen pizza.”

“I’m not sure about this.”

“What if I told you I have the perfect pack where you can be yourself, eat your microwave pizza, and not have to answer to anyone?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’d say, ‘What’s the catch?’”

I smirk. “No catch.”

“There’s always a catch,” he counters, narrowing his eyes.

“Nope, not this time,” I say with a shrug. “Just a pack that lets you do whatever you want, with none of the boring alpha rules.”

Avin crosses his arms, still sceptical. “I don’t know... sounds too good to be true.”

I grin. “Well, this time, it actually is.” I turn to Onyx, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes.

Onyx let out a long, frustrated sigh. He nods at King Valentine, who couldn’t help but chuckle at my antics.

You owe me.

Thank you.

“Avin Chesmore, do you solemnly swear your loyalty and allegiance to Alpha Onyx Kayli Dreklaus and his Luna, Avaluna Dreklaus?” King Valentine asks.

Avin glances at me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes before looking at Onyx for reassurance. Onyx meets his gaze and gives him a small, yet firm nod. For a long moment, Avin hesitates, the weight of the decision settling heavily on him. Then, as if something deep within him had shifted, his eyes glow a brilliant, piercing sapphire blue.

“I swear.” Without thinking, as if the words had already been written in his fate, he knelt, his head lowering in reverence instinctively.

Damian scratches his head, clearly confused. “He doesn’t have a pack,” he says, glancing between us.

Ace rolls his eyes. “We’re his pack, idiot.”

A heavy silence settles over the room. Did it work? I hold my breath, unsure. And then, I felt it—a shiver of warmth that ran through me, a sensation both foreign and familiar. I look up at Onyx, who immediately pulls me into his arms.

“What was that?”

“That was the bond,” Onyx’s hands tightened around me.

The moment hung in the air, thick with the power of the connection we’d just forged. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, Ace drops to his knees, followed by the other Reapers, each one pledging their loyalty.

“Then I give you the Blood Reapers Royal Pack of Romania,” King Valentine declares, his voice rich with authority. He mutters something in a language I didn’t recognise, and suddenly, the room feels even more charged.

I look up at Onyx, my eyes wide. “He made it official,” Onyx says.

“Wait—does that mean we answer to him now, too?” Ace’s eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at Onyx.

Onyx shoots him a deadpan look. “Don’t be stupid.”

King Valentine let out a mocking chuckle, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I want a pack of vampires anyway.”

“How does this work?” Aurora asks.

“It’s not just a pack,” King Valentine says. “It’s something... else entirely. A bond that doesn’t follow the rules. It’s a mishmash of the familiar and the absurd. A bond that’s never been seen before, where vampires and werewolves come together in some twisted, unnatural alliance.” He pauses, his gaze lingering on us with a mix of fascination and disbelief. “This pack... it’s not just new, it’s entirely outside the bounds of what anyone thought possible. It’s a creation that defies every law of nature, of loyalty, and of power. No alpha, no king—just their own ridiculous set of rules.”

“Wow,” I say.

He looks at me, giving a teasing wink. “All thanks to you, my queen.”

I smile, and Onyx growls in response, clearly not a fan of the King’s antics. “Leave before I murder you.”

King Valentine shakes his head, still amused, and leaves with a dramatic flourish.

Ace looks over at Lia. “How come the kid didn’t join?” He jerks his head in her direction.

“The kid,” she says, “is already bonded to them.”

“Whatever,” Ace mutters.

“You better pull your weight, wolf-boy,” Damian says.

Avin’s lip curls into a snarl, the wolf in him rising. “Don’t test me, Reaper.”

Oh boy…

---

Chapter 64: Well, That Explains a Lot.

Avin was adapting far better than we had anticipated. Against all odds, he and Onyx had found a tenuous truce, though it was clear the alpha bond was doing most of the heavy lifting. Yet when the dust settled from battling hunters and rogues, the true clash would begin. The problem? Avin and Damian. Both were obsessed with weaponry and gadgets, each convinced their methods were superior. It was like watching two stags lock horns over the same patch of forest. It wasn’t just words, either. One time, Damian swapped Avin’s beloved thermal scope with an older model just to prove a point. Avin retaliated by “misplacing” Damian’s favourite combat drone for two days. But for all their hostility, there was something almost begrudgingly respectful beneath it—a mutual understanding, perhaps. They were too alike in their stubbornness, too prideful to admit the other might have a point. It was maddening and exhausting.

I left Onyx asleep and waddled off to find Avin. Four and a half months. Four and a half bloody months, and I was about ready to pop like an overripe melon. Lucky for me, supernatural pregnancies only last five months. But no one mentioned the part where you feel like a bloated dirigible with ankles the size of cricket bats. Cheers for that.

As for Thorn—or fake Thorn, or whoever he was— no one saw him again after his dramatic exit. Typical, isn’t it? Stir up trouble, wreck lives, and then poof—disappear like the last biscuit at tea. Meanwhile, the hunt for the Mark? Let’s just say it was going about as well as a blindfolded hedgehog trying to cross the motorway. Every time Onyx looked at me, I could see it—this quiet devastation in his eyes. And it was killing me. The one thing I couldn’t do was fix it, and that drove me absolutely mental. To top it off, I was officially benched. No raids, no action, nothing. I was a walking house. A house. Honestly, who comes up with these comparisons?

“You son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you!” Avin roars, his voice ricocheting through the room like a thunderclap.

The next sound was the unmistakable crash of furniture being annihilated. Again. Skylar was perched on the arm of the sofa, casually sipping her coffee, while Aurora sat cross-legged on the floor, meticulously painting her nails a deep crimson like we weren’t in the middle of another testosterone-fueled apocalypse.

Skylar raises an eyebrow, watching Avin and Damian slug it out like a pair of feral dogs. “Is your brother straight?”

I almost choked. “What?”

“Is he straight?”

“Of course, he’s straight,” I wince as Damian lands a solid punch to Avin’s gut.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” I huff, folding my arms.

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?” I narrow my eyes at her.

Skylar tilts her head, her gaze flicking between the two men now rolling across the floor, fists flying. “Ever notice how, since your brother showed up, Damian’s been... I don’t know, different?”

“Different, how?”

“Like, he’s barely brought around his whores lately.”

I blink, then scoff. “We’re at war, Skylar. Maybe he’s finally grown a brain cell and decided to focus.”

Skylar takes another sip of her coffee. “This is Damian we’re talking about.”

“Aurora, please tell her she’s lost the plot,” I say, gesturing toward Skylar.

Aurora glances up from her nails. “She does kinda have a point. I haven’t seen him with anyone in months. And, to be fair, I did have my doubts about him when I first met him.”

“And what does that have to do with my brother?” Skylar and Aurora exchange a knowing look. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say, my voice dripping with disbelief. “No. Absolutely not. My brother had loads of girlfriends in school. And Damian? Damian would shag anything in a skirt. Hell, if we put a skirt on a lamppost, he’d probably try to shag that.”

Aurora snorts, barely holding back her laughter. “That’s... disturbingly accurate.”

Skylar leans back. “I’m just saying, you might want to keep an eye on them. Or don’t. Could be entertaining either way.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands as another crash echoes behind me. At this rate, we’d need an entirely new set of furniture— again—and possibly a therapist.

“Honestly, though, if they were into each other, it’d solve a lot of problems. Can you imagine the peace and quiet?” Skylar says.

Aurora nods thoughtfully, blowing on her freshly painted nails. “And save the furniture.”

I glare at both of them, pointing a finger. “You two are insane. Completely unhinged. My brother is not into Damian. Damian is not into my brother. End of story.”

Skylar smirks over the rim of her mug. “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“Oh, bugger off, you’re making it weird!”

“Am I?” she says innocently, tilting her head toward the brawl. “Because Damian’s currently pinning Avin to the floor, and I’ve never seen anyone look so smug about it.”

“It’s a fight, Skylar!” I hiss. “People pin people in fights!”

Aurora hums. “Sure. But Damian’s grip does seem a little... lingering.”

“For the love of—” I turn to look, regretting it instantly. There was Damian, practically nose-to-nose with Avin, grinning like the devil himself.

“You done yet, or do I need to kiss you better?” Damian taunts, his voice dripping with mockery.

Avin, shoving him off with a roar. “In your bloody dreams, mate!”

I threw my hands up. “See? Nothing romantic there! Just two idiots trying to murder each other.”

Skylar raises an eyebrow. “Or, you know, it’s foreplay.”

Aurora snorts, choking on her laughter.

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “I can’t believe I’m friends with you two.”

“If it turns out they’re secretly in love, we’ll get to say we called it first,” Aurora says.

“Yeah, like a front-row seat to the most awkward wedding toast,” Skylar adds.

I glare at both of them. “You’re not invited.”

Another crash came from behind me, followed by Damian’s unmistakable laughter and Avin swearing loud enough to make a sailor blush.

Skylar smiles serenely. “They’re definitely shagging one day.”

“Oh, sod off!” I wave her off. “I am one hundred—” The sickening sound of bones snapping cut me off mid-sentence. My head whips around just in time to see Avin shift, his body contorting as claws and fur replace flesh.

“Oh, bollocks! Avin, no!” I scream, trying to waddle my way to Avin.

Before I can take another step, Onyx’s arms wrap around my waist, holding me back. “Don’t.”

“Don’t? He’s going to kill him!”

“No, he’s not.”

Avin launches himself at Damian with a guttural roar, claws extended, teeth bared like a rabid beast as he attacks Damian. Sirius and Theron move like lightning, yanking Avin off of Damian and sending him crashing into the wall.

“Shift!” Onyx’s voice booms across the room, his alpha tone powerful and impossible to resist.

Avin’s body trembles, fighting the command, but he has no choice. He shifts and Aurora hands him a blanket to wrap himself in. As his eyes land on Damian, the sight of blood dripping down Damian’s neck makes him freeze. Regret washes over his face, stark and raw. “Shit... Damian, I didn’t mean to—”

His words are cut off by a feral growl. Damian’s eyes gleaming, his fangs flashing before he lunged.

“Damian, no!” I shout, my heart stops as his fangs sink into Avin’s neck.

The sound that escapes Avin’s lips wasn’t a scream. It wasn’t a cry. It was a soft, breathless moan. My mouth fell open, words dying in my throat as silence cloaked the room. Sirius and Theron halt mid-step, their expressions mirroring my shock. Skylar winks at me with that insufferable ‘I told you so’ look plastered all over her face. Then I saw it. The black circle and a crescent moon appear on Damian’s neck with Avin’s name. And Damian’s bite mark has his name on Avin’s neck. I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth. They. Marked. Each. Other.

Onyx reaches over and gently pushes my gaping mouth shut, his expression calm, almost bored. He wasn’t surprised. Not even a little.

“You knew?” I stare up at him, wide-eyed.

“Goddammit,” Ace groans, slapping a wad of hundred-dollar bills into Onyx’s outstretched hand.

“You knew? Both of you knew?” I splutter, pointing an accusing finger between him and Onyx. “And you bet on them?”

Sirius crosses his arms, his eyebrows furrowing in disapproval. “Wait—you betted without me?”

“It wasn’t exactly a secret,” Ace says. “Anyone with eyes could see this coming from a mile away.”

“I didn’t see it coming!” I shoot back, waving a hand at Damian and Avin, who are still awkwardly avoiding everyone’s stares.

Onyx gives me a lazy shrug, tucking the cash into his pocket. “Didn’t seem relevant.”

“Not relevant?!” I sputter, my voice climbing an octave. “You’re unbelievable!”

Sirius huffs. “You’re all unbelievable. Betting without me is downright disrespectful.”

Skylar snorts from the couch, sipping her coffee. “I had fifty on them shagging weeks ago.”

Sirius stares at her in shock. “You’re telling me you knew too?”

Skylar rolls her eyes. “They’ve been eyeing each other like forbidden desserts since day one. I just didn’t think they’d go for the whole bite-first, shag-later approach.”

“Unreal,” I throw my hands in the air.

Damian finally speaks, his voice dry and unapologetic. “Could’ve been worse.”

Avin, still clutching the blanket around him, shoots him a glare. “How, exactly?”

Damian smirks, his fangs still slightly visible. “You could’ve enjoyed it more.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” I shout, turning on my heel and stomping out of the room. “You’re all mental!”

Behind me, Skylar’s laugh echoes, followed by Sirius muttering, “I can’t believe you bet on this without me.”

I was still in shock, but the more I thought about it, the more the pieces started falling into place. All those girls who were crazy about my brother? Not once did he bring any of them home. No dates, no introductions—just hookups, quick and meaningless. I always chalked it up to him having commitment issues. Turns out, I was way off. Onyx said Avin’s wolf wouldn’t tolerate Damian’s constant challenges for much longer. He knew it was only a matter of time before his wolf lost patience and marked him. And Damian? Onyx had apparently clocked him as not entirely straight before Damian even figured it out himself.

How the hell did I miss it?

The stolen glances when they thought no one was looking. The way they always had each other’s backs on raids, even when they were arguing five minutes before. And that first day they met in Shirton—God, it was so obvious now! The tension between them wasn’t just aggression. It was something more.

They had a connection. Not the predestined, magical mate bond, but a bond nonetheless. It was subtle, something they could’ve ignored if they wanted to. But instead, it built and built, simmering under the surface, fueling their ridiculous love-hate dynamic until it finally boiled over.

I groan, running a hand through my hair. How did I miss it? The signs were all there, glaringly obvious now, and I’d been completely blind. Meanwhile, Onyx has been sitting there, watching it unfold like a bloody soap opera, with money on the outcome no less.

Unbelievable.

---

Chapter 65: A Dangerous Gamble.

The closer I get to my due date, the more Onyx seems to unravel. His restlessness is suffocating, his nights spent hovering over me, watching me sleep as though the very act of breathing might betray him. He’s hardly slept anymore. He feeds me, then sits by the bed, eyes never leaving me, like I might disappear if he blinks. He snapped at everyone, at everything that wasn’t me. He even tried to block his emotions from me, but I could still feel the weight of his dread pressing down on him. He was terrified—terrified of losing me, terrified of the unknown, and it was breaking my heart to see him suffer like this.

I follow his scent to his office, but he isn’t alone— I pick up three distinct, familiar scents. I take a deep breath, and sure enough, I can pick out his father, his uncle, and Avin.

“There is still time,” Matt’s voice is calm, but the tension in it is obvious.

“No, there isn’t.” Onyx’s voice cut through, raw with frustration.

“Son—”

“Now I’m son?” Onyx laughs a dark, humourless sound. “Don’t bother. I don’t need your pity. None of you. I just need this done.” His voice is cold, clipped.

“Does she know?” Matt asks, the hesitation in his tone clear.

“You didn’t tell her?” Avin growls, irritated.

“It will not fuckin’ matter!” Onyx’s words are a low, dangerous growl.

“This is—”

Onyx snarls, cutting off his father. “You will all do as I say. When the pups are born, take them. Keep them together or divide them between yourselves.” My heart drops at the words, but then comes the part that makes my blood run cold. “Just keep them away from me.”

I can’t believe it. I feel sick, a bitter twist of disbelief curling in my stomach. Onyx is ready to just hand over our children without a second thought? I push the door open, my heart pounding in my chest. Onyx’s eyes widen for a split second, surprised to see me. But it was only a second—then his face went blank, the walls going up between us faster than I can blink.

“Ava—” His voice is strained, like he’d been expecting anything but this.

I didn’t think, didn’t pause. I was angry, so angry, I can barely breathe. Without warning, I slap him, hard, across the cheek. The sting of my own hand is nothing compared to the hurt I feel at this moment.

“Divide them?” I choked on the words, my voice rising, tears already gathering in my eyes. “Keep them away from you?” Another slap, this time on his other cheek, the sound of it echoing through the room.

He doesn’t even flinch. His jaw clenched, fists balling at his sides, but he stays silent.

“What kind of a father are you?” I scream, my heart breaking as the tears fall freely. “They aren’t even born yet, and you’re already giving them away like they’re fruit roll-ups!” My voice cracks with the pain of it all.

His eyes, glossy and distant, flicked to my stomach. “Baby, please—” He reaches for me, but I step back, away from his touch.

“No!” I shake my head, my breath coming in sharp, angry gasps. “You know what it’s like to grow up without a mother or father. And you’re willing to do the same to them?”

He let out a hollow laugh, a sound devoid of humour. “My mother died, Ava. My father could barely look at me. The only reason I’m even here is because of these,” he points to his eyes, full of anguish. “Our pups may not be so lucky. Either they take them, or I’ll kill them myself.”

My heart stops. The words were like a slap in my face, and my entire body trembles with the weight of it. I slap him again, harder this time, the force of it sending his head jerking to the side.

“Slap me. Hit me. Pierce my fuckin’ heart. It will not change a damn thing.” His voice cracks, but his eyes stay hard, even though a single tear escapes, rolling down his cheek. “I’d rather be dead than raise them. The things that kill you.”

“You don’t know that!” I scream, desperate.

“I know we’re out of time!” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. “You don’t understand, Ava—we’re out of time.”

“We have a week—” I try to argue, but he cuts me off.

He chuckles darkly, a broken sound that didn’t reach his eyes. “You can give birth today. Tomorrow. The day after. But we’re out of time! From the moment I first looked into your gorgeous eyes, I knew. I knew I was yours. Nothing about me is mine anymore. Everything belongs to you. My heart, my soul—everything. Every part of me craves you. Every instinct in me knows that you are mine. Mine to love. Mine to protect. Mine to cherish. My only purpose is to love you. Having you is the only thing I’ve ever wanted, Ava. And now... Now I’m worthless without you. How am I supposed to live without you?”

Tears blur my vision as I cup his face in my hands, lifting his head so I could look him in the eyes. “You can’t think like that. I love you so much, Onyx Dreklaus.”

I gently wipe the tears from his face, my hands trembling as I tried to hold myself together, my heart shattering with every word he said. His pain, his fear—it was almost too much to bear.

“I need you,” Onyx whispers, his voice raw, desperate, like a man on the edge of breaking. “You’re the only thing that keeps me from falling apart. I can’t lose you, Ava. I can’t… I refuse.” He buries his face in his hands, shaking as though he was losing the fight with himself, his entire body crumbling under the weight of his fears.

I cup his face again, gently this time, forcing him to look at me. “Onyx, listen to me.” My voice firm, even though my insides are a twisted mess of emotions. “We’re in this together. Always have been, and always will be. We’ll figure it out.

He shakes his head, eyes wide with hopelessness. “I can’t protect you. I can’t protect them. I’m broken, Ava. I was never meant to be anyone’s saviour. I’m dangerous—I am the reason we’re even in this mess. If I could turn back time, I would never—”

“No.” I cut him off. “You don’t get to talk like that. You don’t get to blame yourself for everything. You’re the man I love, the one I chose. We’re in this together, no matter what happens.”

“How can you love me after all the things I’ve done? After everything I’ve fucked up?”

I lean in, pressing my forehead to his, my hands still cradling his face. “Because I see you, Onyx. I see the man beneath all the darkness, the one who would do anything to protect the people he loves.” I kiss him softly, then pull away, my eyes locked on his. “You’re fighting for the people you love and that’s all that matters.”

His hands cup my face as he kisses me back, fiercely, desperately, as if I might slip away if he didn’t hold onto me tightly enough. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” I promise, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotion inside me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Onyx’s grip on me tightened, as though he was afraid to let go, like I might vanish into thin air. He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gaze intense and filled with raw, unfiltered emotion. “I love you, Ava. I love you so fuckin’ much. Please… don’t ever leave me.”

“I love you too, Onyx. Always. But we’re going to figure this out together. We will get through this. For us. For our babies.”

“Together,” he says. “We’ll do this together.”

I kiss him again, slow and deep, letting the weight of everything that had happened melt away in that moment. There was still so much to face, so many challenges ahead. But I know, deep down, we can survive anything—together. And that thought is the only thing that matters.

“And I know exactly how we’ll do it,” announces a strikingly beautiful woman with forest-green eyes and sunflower-blonde hair that seems to shimmer in the light. Her voice is confident, her presence commanding.

Her scent hit me like a wave of nostalgia. It was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Then it clicked. I gasped, my heart skipping a beat. “Lia?”

She turns her radiant smile toward me—the same one I remembered. “Hello, Luna,” she says, her tone warm and familiar.

“Nyx—” Ace starts, but his voice falters when he sees her. His entire body freezes, his eyes widening in disbelief before they slowly roam down her figure. Lust flickers in his gaze, quickly masked by a clenched jaw and a sharp shake of his head. “Now you decide to show your true form?” he bit out, his voice laced with frustration.

Lia rolls her eyes, her expression calm and unfazed. “I do not have time for your petty grievances.”

“My petty grievances?” Ace scoffs, stepping closer. “Listen here, kid—”

“Kid?” Lia cuts him off, her forest-green eyes narrowing. “I am twice your age.”

Ace barks a bitter laugh, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “A few days ago, you were this tall,” he gestures with his hand at child-height, “wearing pigtails, and five, sugar tits.”

"Such profanity is not permissible when addressing me in my true form. Should you continue this insolence, I shall have no alternative but to transform you into an amphibian of the Bufonidae family."

Ace’s gaze darkens, his lips twitching into a feral smirk. “There are a few other profanities I plan on using,” his voice drops to a low growl, his eyes dragging down her body again, “but later.”

Lia’s lips press into a thin line, her composure unwavering, but the faintest flicker of heat colours her cheeks.

Onyx groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood. “Do you two need something?”

“A large group of hunters are heading to Greenidge. ”

“Perfect,” Lia says.

“You knew?” I ask.

“Yes,” she responds. “The dissemination of their coordinates was an intentional act on my part.”

“What? Lia, what have you done?”

“According to widely circulating intelligence, it is rumoured that they require a powerful conjurer following the loss of their Crystal,” Lia explains, her voice calm, almost clinical. “Therefore, I strategically disseminated the coordinates of another Crystal.”

“You’re using yourself as bait?”

“If it ensures your survival, yes. Your loss is not an outcome I am willing to allow.”

“But—”

“What’s the plan?” Onyx interrupts.

“They will locate me at my dwelling, and once I am taken into their custody, you will have the opportunity to track them directly to their headquarters.”

“As a child or like this?” His voice is tight, clearly annoyed.

“Like this,” she replies firmly.

Ace laughs darkly, but there is no humour in it. “And what do you think they’ll do to you looking like this? You think they’ll just politely take you back to their master without first fu—” He stops abruptly, his jaw locking, his voice dropping to a dangerously low tone. “Not in this form,” he says, and for the first time, there was no mockery in his words. Only raw, possessive anger. Before Lia can respond, Ace grabs her by the hair, pulling her closer, his fangs grazing the delicate curve of her neck. “Don’t test me,” he growls, his voice a deadly promise. “They are not touching you. Switch. Form.”

Lia’s body trembles under his hold, her breath hitching, and a faint, unmistakable hint of arousal fills the air. My eyes widen. Bloody hell. She likes him. And he likes her.

“He’s right,” I say quickly, attempting to mask my surprise. “Switch forms.”

Lia hesitates for a moment, her gaze locks on Ace’s intense, unrelenting expression. Everyone else stands in stunned silence, watching the interaction unfold like something out of a dramatic romance novel. Even Ace seems taken aback by his own reaction, his grip loosening slightly as confusion flickers in his eyes. Lia’s composure falters for the briefest moment, but she recovers quickly, her gaze softening before she steps back, her aura still poised and regal.

“Very well,” Lia says with a nod. “I will change form.”

“Wait,” I say, my voice rising with a mix of concern and urgency. “How do we even know this will work? So far, Fake Thorn’s been one step ahead of us every bloody time. Who’s to say he doesn’t know this is a trap and... hurt you? These aren’t the kind of people who play nice, Lia.”

“I am fully aware of the risks,” she replies, her tone cool and composed. “However, their objective is clear, they require my abilities. The likelihood of my immediate execution is minimal, especially if I offer no resistance.”

“What if they have a trap waiting at their headquarters? This could lead all of us straight into their hands.”

“It is a possibility,” Lia states calmly, her voice unwavering. “However, I have thoroughly analyzed their patterns and priorities. Their primary focus will be on regaining control of a Crystal and re-establishing their dominance over the situation. Meanwhile, your army is systematically eliminating their rogues and dismantling their hideouts. They are under significant pressure. This is precisely where we want them.”

“And if you’re wrong? What then?”

“I am not wrong,” she says. “This is not conjecture. It is a fact.”

I stare at her for a moment, trying to read her expression, to find a crack in her unyielding composure. But there is nothing. She is resolute, as always. It both comforts and terrifies me.

Onyx steps forward, his presence a grounding force. “We don’t have time to second-guess,” he says, his voice low but unwavering. “If Lia’s right, this is our chance. If she’s wrong, we deal with the consequences. But we move now. No more hesitation.”

I nod, though doubt still gnawed at the back of my mind. “But, Lia...” I look at her one last time, my voice softening. “Be careful.”

“I always am.”

The plan is in motion. Whether or not it would work... only time would tell.

---

Chapter 66: Bait and Switch.

As planned, they took her. We tracked them to this old, abandoned mill, just a dump of scrap metal and rubbish. The place was proper falling apart—like something out of a horror film. The building itself looks like it might collapse any minute, with rusted beams hanging out at weird angles and shattered windows staring back at us like they were empty eye sockets. Bits of twisted metal and broken wood are scattered all over the place, half-buried in weeds and muck. The whole lot smells like a mix of stale oil and wet cardboard. The ground is all cracked and uneven. It’s the kind of place you’d expect to find a haunted doll or a stray cat, not vampires. Everything feels still, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

There were five teams. Team one—ten of the Kings’ fiercest warriors, vampires I had never laid eyes on before. Led by Theron, they move like shadows, sweeping the ground with surgical precision. They set up vantage points, alert and calculating, their every step deliberate.

Team two—fifteen more vampires, equally terrifying, led by Ace and Sirius. They’d be coming in from the back.

Team three twenty warriors, led by Onyx himself. They are going in from the front with brute force.

Team four—ten vampires, led by Damian and Avin. They’ve placed explosives around the mill.

And lastly, team five— Aurora, Skylar and yours truly.

“He’s going to kill us,” Aurora mutters for the hundredth time, her fingers tight on the steering wheel of the armoured SUV we’d borrowed.

Technically, there were only four teams, but Onyx didn’t need to know about team five. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, it wasn’t like I planned to go full Jet Li on anyone. My plan? Watch from a safe distance. If things went south, I had a second detonator. Onyx thought he was the only other one with one. I may have blackmailed Avin into making a second one, but no one needs to know that. Oh, and I also have a live feed of their earpieces. We wouldn’t be left in the dark.

Skylar mutters a few words under her breath, her hands glowing briefly as she cast the cloaking spell on the SUV. Within seconds, we were completely invisible. Having a witch on your side has its advantages.

“He’s going to kill us,” Aurora said again, her voice rising in pitch. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and what if—”

“What if nothing?” I cut her off. “We’ve got a plan. Skylar’s cloaking magic, my detonator—we’re just backup in case anything goes sideways. If nothing goes wrong, no one will ever know we were here. We’re ghosts right now. Invisible. Untouchable. The only ones who need to know about this are us. Onyx would never know. Now zip it, and listen.” I flick on the walkie-talkie, the static crackling for a second before the faint voices of the others fill the silence.

The weight of what we are about to do hangs over us like a thick, suffocating cloud. We all know the risks if this plan falls apart. They need the Mark to mark Lia, and that’s when we’ll strike. All we have to do now is wait, bide our time and hope this works.

“We’re all set out here,” Theron says, his voice steady but with an edge of anticipation.

“Clear in here,” Ace chimes in, his tone sharp.

“We’re almost set. Hooking up the final one,” Damian’s voice calm, but there is a hint of impatience in his words.

Onyx growls, frustration dripping from every word. “According to the tracker Lia is here, yet there is nothing here.”

“Maybe there’s a basement or something,” I say.

“It’s not on the blueprint,” Aurora says as she scans the blueprint.

“Maybe it’s an old version?” I ask.

Before anyone can respond, three simultaneous growls crackle through the radio.

“You forgot to mute your side, princess,” Avin sighs.

Our eyes went wide in horror.

“Bloody hell.”

“Shit,” Skylar groans, sinking into her seat.

“Fudge,” Aurora winces.

“Avaluna?” Onyx’s voice is calm but laced with fury, making it clear he wasn’t happy.

“Y-yes?”

He sighs deeply, the sound of someone worn down by their own frustration. “Are you three safe?”

“Yes,” I blurt out, trying to sound confident but failing miserably.

“First sign of trouble, I need you three to get out of there. Do you understand me?” His voice drops an octave, deadly serious.

“Yes,” we answer in unison.

“And if you girls don’t listen to him, there will be hell to pay,” Sirius’ voice low and menacing.

We all gulp.

“He would never know, huh?” Aurora arches an eyebrow.

I slump deeper into my chair, my frown deepening. “No one said anything about a stupid mute button,” I grumble to myself.

“Maybe there’s a basement?” Ace asks.

“Not a basement, an underground tunnel,” Theron corrects him.

“How do you know that?” Sirius asks

“Mills like this have a long history of being used as fronts for illicit activities, particularly smuggling operations run by humans,” Theron explains. “During the industrial era, some mills were strategically placed in isolated areas to serve as cover for illegal trade. They often had hidden compartments or secret passages, typically located on the lower levels, to transport goods under the radar of authorities.”

“You hear him,” Onyx says. “Spread out.”

I inhale sharply as a contraction seizes me. The doctor had reassured me that this was all part of the process as my due date looms closer, but the truth is, I was terrified—not of the pain, but of the thought of leaving Onyx behind. Of never seeing him again. The idea of him losing me, of never feeling his arms around me again, makes my chest ache in ways I can’t put into words. I fought to push the thought away, trying to focus on the present, but deep down, I know it is pointless. He can feel everything through our bond. Every tremor of fear, every flutter of doubt.

“Ava?” Onyx’s concerned voice crackles through the radio, breaking me from my thoughts. I hadn’t even realised I was crying until I heard his voice. Aurora and Skylar are beside me, rubbing my back, their comforting presence grounding me.

“Hmm?” I sniffle, wiping at my face quickly, but it’s no use. He would know. He always knew everything.

“It’s going to be alright, baby,” Onyx says softly, his voice steady but filled with a tenderness that makes my heart ache. “ After all this is over, how about a nice long vacation? Anywhere in the world you want to go.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

“Promise?” My voice barely above a whisper.

“Promise, Angel.”

Before I can respond, Ace’s voice cut through the tension. “Found it.”

“Good. You stay here with Sirius. The rest of you, come with me,” Onyx orders.

“Onyx, be careful.”

“Always, princess,” he replies, but I can hear the subtle tension in his voice.

Then the world erupts. Screams and howls pierce the air, followed by gunshots, shouting, and more gunfire. Explosions rock the ground beneath us, and the sky is filled with a thick cloud of grey smoke.

“Luna, no!” Skylar grabs me as I was trying to leave.

“They’re in trouble,” I say.

“We have to leave,” Skylar says urgently.

“I can’t leave him!” I shout, my heart sinking as I try to push past the fear clawing at my throat.

“You think we want to leave?” Aurora asks, her own face pale with worry. “Sky’s right, Luna. We have to—”

But her words were cut off by a menacing laugh that froze us all in place. “I should’ve known this was too good to be true. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

Skylar’s eyebrows furrow. “He sounds familiar,” she murmurs, and Aurora nods in agreement.

Then I heard it—a whimper.

“Let her go, you sick fuck!” Ace hisses, fury lacing his voice.

“Why would I do that?” came the cold, mocking response.

Lia squeals in pain, and my heart lurches in my chest.

“Didn’t take you for a paedophile,” Onyx growls, his voice low and threatening.

“You’re right. I’m not,” the man sneers. “But your precious little one can always show her true form.”

Lia whimpers again.

“Now, or I’ll kill... him,” the man threatens, his tone dripping with malice.

“No!” Lia says.

“Don’t do it Li,” Ace growls.

A sickening laugh echoes in the background, followed by the disgusting sound of someone licking their lips. “Well, aren’t you a beauty?” The voice is filthy, and predatory, and it makes my skin crawl.

“Allow them to leave. You have me,” Lia states.

“Not happening,” Ace snarls, his voice full of rage.

“Where is she?” Onyx’s voice is calm, cold, and deadly.

“Where is who?”

“Your master,” Onyx says.

“I am the master here,” the man growls.

“I don’t talk to puppets, Jorin. Where is she?” Onyx’s voice never wavers, his tone as chilling as the night.

Jorin?

Skylar and Aurora’s faces lit up with recognition.

“You were always too smart for your own good,” a female voice purrs, and the blood drains from my face.

I know that voice.

I hear the sharp intake of breath from Aurora. Her eyes widen in shock as she covers her mouth in disbelief. Skylar’s jaw clenches.

“Persephone,” Onyx says.

That bitch.

“Jorin is her cousin,” Aurora tells me.

“Surprise?” Persephone’s voice drips with smugness.

“Not really.”

Her laugh is light and mocking, but the malice beneath it is unmistakable. “Tell me, did you ever think about me? Even once?”

“Only when I needed a good laugh,” he shoots back.

“You’ll regret underestimating me. I’ve been two steps ahead of you this whole time. While you’ve been running around chasing shadows, I’ve been building an empire.”

“An empire built on lies and desperation,” Onyx retorts. “Impressive.”

“You’re too arrogant to see it,” she sneers. “I have the mark. I have the knowledge. And soon, I’ll have you.”

“How did you find the mark?” Onyx’s voice is controlled, but there’s an edge to it.

“Funny story really, I was waiting for your father in his private library. I knock a book off the shelf, and at first, I thought it was just some dusty old thing. But when I picked it up, I found a map hidden inside. I had no idea what it was at the time. That’s when I learned about the Mark and the day your father told me that you rejected me. Then, he said he had a plan by using Octavius to make you jealous,” she snickers darkly. “He thinks if he threatened to give the crown to Octavius, you’d have no choice but to choose me. But I knew you better than that. Once your mind was made up, that was it.”

“Damn Nyx. Is your dick that good? You got this bitch crazy enough to go around marking mutts and shit?”

“I’m not crazy!” Persephone snaps, her voice sharp with fury. “And don’t you dare call me that?”

“All of this because I rejected you.”

“You didn’t just reject me, Onyx. You humiliated me! You made me a laughingstock! Do you have any idea what that felt like? The whispers, the pitying looks, the sneers behind my back?”

“Can’t say I do.”

“You think this is all a joke? You think I’m still that naive girl fawning over you?”

“Naive, desperate—tomato, tomato,” he drawls.

“You think you’re untouchable, don’t you? Untouchable, perfect almighty Prince Onyx Dreklaus. But I know your weaknesses. I know how to hurt you.”

“If you were half as clever as you think you are, you’d realize this whole thing just makes you look desperate.”

“Talk all you want but we both know how this ends. You’ll come crawling to me. You always were too proud for your own good, but I’ll break you, Onyx. I’ll have you begging at my feet.”

“Does this mean the Duke was in on it too?” Ace asks.

“My father was a lot of things, but clever isn’t one of them,” Jorin says.

“Look at that—seems like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” Onyx says. “You let her mark you?”

“Do you see any mark?”

“Wait, what?” Ace’s voice fills with surprise. “How did he remove it?”

“It was a fake,” Onyx says dryly. “Well played, princess. Quite the performance. But tell me something—why the Wintercrest hunters?”

Persephone let out a low, mocking laugh. “When I discovered that your dear mother was part of that pack, I thought it was... rather poetic. Then, my spy filled me in on the alpha—how he was a bit more sadistic and impatient. So, naturally, I decided to pay them a visit. You’re ambidextrous. The alpha is right-handed.”

“What? He jerked off with the wrong hand or something?” Ace asks.

“That’s when you sent in the human?” Onyx says.

My heart skips a beat when he mentioned Ethan.

“Pure luck,” Persephone says. “He was looking for your little whore, and I thought, why not let him kill her?”

“But the shirt you gave him had the wrong scent on it,” Onyx says.

“That’s what I get for relying on dogs,” Persephone sighs dramatically.

“So, let me get this straight,” Ace says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You wanted to kidnap the Alpha, mark him, and then make him bring Onyx to you? So you could mark him and make him your bitch? That’s some real messed up matchmaking right there.”

“When we get out of here, remind me to break your face,” Onyx says.

“What, you can’t be mad because I called you her bitch?” Onyx growls. “Or maybe you can.”

“What did the hunters get in return? How did you convince them to help you?”

“Convince?” She let out a cold laugh, her voice tinged with amusement. “They wanted to find the mark just as much as I did.”

“And you don’t think that’s strange?”

“Of course, I did. I knew they had their own agenda in helping me. That’s why, after I mark you and you become king, you’ll kill them all.”

“And Thorn?” Ace asks. “How did you do that?”

“How did I do what?” she asks.

“She doesn’t know,” Aurora says.

“So, if that’s not her doing…” my voice trails off.

“Then who?” Aurora continues.

“Well, this has been fun,” Ace drawls. “How about we skip ahead to the part where my boy here rips your cold, dead heart out, and we’ll be on our merry way?”

Her laugh rings out like a bell, sharp and mocking. “I never liked you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Let them go, Persephone,” Onyx says, his voice low and dangerous. “And I’ll make your death a swift one.”

“How merciful of you,” she mocks.

“You should be grateful I’ve indulged your delusions for this long,” he retorts.

“Grateful? Oh, darling, if anything, you should be grateful I’ve allowed you to play this little rebellion game far longer than you deserve.”

“The more you run your mouth, the sweeter it’ll be when I shut it for good,” Onyx says sounding bored. “But let’s dispense with the theatrics, shall we? I tire of this dance.”

“Funny,” she says. “I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

“You’re a delusional mess of a bitch—” Ace’s words were cut short by a feral growl from Onyx, followed by Lia’s ear-piercing scream.

A sudden wave of searing pain and blinding anger crashed into me, forcing me to clutch my stomach as I doubled over.

“Ace!” Lia’s scream tears through the air, raw and filled with anguish.

“Luna, what’s wrong?” Aurora’s arms wrap around me in an instant, her voice laced with worry as I struggle to steady my breaths.

“It’s his pain,” I choke out, each word laboured. “I think… I think Ace is—”

“You killed him! How could you do such a thing?” Lia’s voice cracks with despair.

“Not a single word of mourning?” Persephone asks jeeringly. “I thought you’d at least shed a tear for him, Onyx.”

His voice, low and dangerously calm, sends a chill through the air. “I’m going to enjoy peeling the skin off your bones.”

Persephone’s laugh is dark and mocking as she steps closer. “Perhaps I’ll kill the other five next. Would that break you? Or better yet, maybe I’ll rip those parasites out of your little whore myself. Will that hurt you?”

The intensity of Onyx’s murderous rage surges through me like a storm, his fury so palpable it threatens to consume everything in its path.

“Princess. Skylar. Aurora,” a voice calls out, low and urgent.

Aurora flings open the SUV door, my heart skipping a beat when I saw Damian, his arm around Avin’s shoulders, both of them covered in dirt and blood, staggering toward us.

“Oh my God, what happened?” I exclaim, waddling out of the SUV as fast as my legs could carry me.

“We’re fine,” Avin says with a weak, sad smile that quickly turns into a wince.

“It was an ambush,” Damian says through gritted teeth. “We barely got away.”

“Where’s Sirius?” Skylar’s voice sharp, her usual composure giving way to panic.

“Theron?” Aurora asks at the same time, her voice trembling.

“I’m right here.”

We all turn as Theron emerges from the shadows, just as bruised and battered as the others. Aurora’s breath hitches, relief washing over her as she spins toward him and throws herself into his arms. He catches her effortlessly, holding her tightly, as if letting go would shatter him.

“Are you okay?” Aurora asks, her voice trembling as she cups his face, her eyes darting over his injuries.

“I’ll heal,” he says softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He leans down, pressing a reassuring kiss to her trembling lips. “Sirius, Ace, and the prince are inside,” he says, his voice low and strained. “They used some kind of gas. It—it was like nothing I’ve encountered before.” Theron grimaces, running a hand through his blood-matted hair. “It was a dispersal agent, a chemical or magical concoction. When it detonated, it divided us—separated everyone like we were being thrown into different dimensions. One second the warriors were beside me, then they weren’t. The air turned thick, choking, and it forced us to scatter. I couldn’t even hear their voices through it. But the gas doesn’t just disorient—it drains. It weakens you and makes you sluggish. And it’s tainted with some kind of hallucinogen.”

Damian grunts in agreement, his voice a low rumble. “It messes with your head. Makes you see things that aren’t there. For a moment, I thought Avin was one of them.”

Avin gave a weak laugh. “He almost took my head off before realizing it was me.”

Theron’s expression darkens. “The gas wasn’t random. It was designed to weaken and divide us. Whoever set this up knew exactly what they were doing.”

“They knew we were coming,” Avin’s voice laced with grim realization. “This wasn’t just an ambush—it was a trap. They planned every detail.”

Damian nods sharply. “We need to find the others and get the hell out of here. Sitting still only makes us easier targets.”

Theron’s sharp gaze moves from Aurora to me, then to Skylar. “What’s wrong?”

“Luna?” Avin’s tired eyes narrow as he arches an eyebrow, concern flickering across his face.

The words caught in my throat, but before I can respond, Aurora spoke, her voice trembling. “Ace…” She pauses, her voice cracking under the weight of the truth. “Ace is dead.”

Theron freezes, his face darkening as he processes the words. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. In one fluid motion, he punches the nearest tree with enough force to shatter the bark, splintering wood into the air.

Damian didn’t move. His eyes glowing red, his face hard as stone. “She?” Damian asks, his voice guttural and cold, a low growl vibrating in his chest.

“Persephone,” I say. “She and—”

My words catch in my throat as my breath hitches. My eyes widen in horror as hunters and rogues begin to emerge from the treeline. There were only a few, but they keep coming—dozens, then hundreds, until the clearing swarmed with rogues and hunters heading straight for us.

“We need to move,” Theron says. “To the mill now!”

During the chaos, we were separated. Skylar and I barely managed to stumble to the old mill, our breaths ragged and frantic. My chest heaves as I glance behind us.

“In here!” a voice shouts, urgent and commanding.

Skylar practically drags me inside, and the moment the heavy door slams shut behind us, she is in his arms.

“Are you hurt?” Sirius asks his voice rough with emotion as he crushes her to his chest. His hands tremble as they run through her hair, over her face, as though reassuring himself she was real.

“I’m fine,” she cups his face in her hands searching his dark, stormy eyes. “Are you? We heard about the gas.”

Sirius lets out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against hers. “Better now.” His lips found hers in a desperate, lingering kiss. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of survival, of terror. Skylar melts into him, her fingers curling into his bloodstained shirt, holding him like he was her lifeline.

When they finally pull apart, Sirius turns to me, his eyes scanning me for injuries. His eyebrow furrowed, concern etched into every line of his face. “Princess?”

“I’m fine.” My voice wavers, betraying the fear clawing its way up my throat. I try to sound brave, but we both know better.

“Ace is—” Skylar begins, but Sirius cuts her off with a grim shake of his head.

“I know,” he says softly, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. Something dark flickers in his expression, something lethal. “We’ll grieve him later. Right now, we need to get you two out—”

“No.” I cut him off.

“Princess—”

“I’m not going anyway, Sirius.”

He stares at me for a moment, his lips parting as if to argue, but something in my face must have stopped him. “Fine,” he relents with a sigh. “But you two stay behind me. Do you understand?”

Skylar nods without hesitation, slipping her hand back into his. I follow silently, still shaken, as Sirius turns toward the shadows at the back of the mill.

“There’s a passage here,” he says, shoving aside a rusted sheet of metal to reveal a narrow, hidden doorway. It leads into the darkness, deeper into the mill’s forgotten bowels. Sirius places a finger to his lips, signalling for silence, then taps his ear. From our poor vantage point, we counted nine Vampires.

And then we hear his voice—Onyx.

“That’s why you kept me alive so long,” he says, a dry, bitter laugh punctuating his words. We couldn’t see him, but we could hear the tension in his voice, the anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Every time I marked you, it faded.”

Onyx’s laugh was colder this time, more ragged. “You fed me, marked me, and when it failed, you erased the memory and started over.” He let out another bitter laugh, the sound cutting through me like a knife.

“It should’ve worked!” Persophone says sharp and unhinged before she erupts into laughter. It wasn’t a sound of joy—it was the laugh of someone teetering on the brink of madness. “But then I learned why it didn’t work.”

Onyx’s voice cut through her crazed rambling. “That’s why you wanted another fae. You’re trying to recreate the mark.”

“Not a fae, a Crystal,” she corrects him.

“I will never aid you!” Lia’s voice rings out, sharp and resolute, like the toll of a bell. “The Prince will never give his heart to a wicked woman such as yourself, and you shall never measure up to even a shadow of Avaluna’s grace and worth.”

A dangerous, high-pitched cackle follows, sending chills down my spine. “Oh, sweet Lia,” she purrs mockingly. “Don’t trouble yourself over her. Her time is coming. From what I hear, she’s got… what? A week?”

A low, feral growl rumbles from Onyx, a sound so raw and dangerous it makes the vampires standing guard stiffen slightly. “I always knew you were manipulative, but I underestimated just how much of a cunt you really are.”

“Such profanity,” she mocks her tone dripping with false sweetness. “It’s not my fault your precious Avaluna is dying, now, is it?”

“You’re a despicable woman,” the voice trembling with both rage and disgust, “you don’t deserve either of my grandsons. Your parents would be ashamed of you if they knew—”

“That is why they’ll never know.” Persephone’s voice turns chillingly light, almost sing-song.

It was then I realized just how unhinged she was. Her laughter echoes in my ears, grating and maddening, like nails scraping against glass. This bitch is crazier than a ship of fools sniffing crazy glue. Whoever had let her out of her coffin deserves to be sued—or better yet, dragged into the same abyss they’d unleashed her from.

“As soon as the Crystal makes the adjustments, we’ll be on our way,” Persephone says.

“You think a mark can make him love you?” his grandmother’s voice unwavering and sharp. “Child, not even the goddess herself can force that man to love you. I would’ve thought all these years would’ve taught you that.”

“Shut up!” Persephone’s voice cracks, venom and desperation mingling in the words. “He will love me!”

“You’re using a mark to bind him, to twist his will. That is not love, girl,” the grandmother counters firmly, her tone like iron wrapped in silk. “It isn’t even close to love. And even if you manage to alter its purpose without a bloodline witch, there’s still no telling—”

“I said shut up!” Persephone screams, her temper fraying to nothing. “I’ll remark him as many times as it takes. And all I need from the bloodline witch is her heart.”

The grandmother gasps audibly. “You… you cut out her heart?”

Everline is dead.

Persephone’s voice turns sickly sweet, almost sing-song. “I’ll be his queen, and he’ll be my king. And we’ll live happily ever after!”

“You want to be my queen so bad? Let her go, and we can talk about it,” Onyx says.

“You think I’m stupid?”

Bitch, you kidnapped the scariest bastard in the world’s grandmother. I nearly snorted through my fear. YES, you’re stupid. Rocks are smarter than you because they know better than to mess with him.

“The second she leaves, you’ll kill us all.”

“You’re not as stupid as you look,” Lia says. “What?” she says defensively. “Avaluna’s rubbing off on me.”

Onyx’s tone softens just slightly, his anger temporarily replaced by fondness. “She does have that effect.”

“Enough!” Persephone snaps. “Do it now!”

“Never,” Lia says. “I will never betray her. I will never harm her. I will not aid you in this twisted scheme. She is my queen, my sovereign, and my loyalty is hers alone. I would sooner die than be complicit in your madness. And even then, the heart of a bloodline witch does not guarantee the success of altering the mark.” The room went deathly still.

“Fool,” Persephone hisses.

Then it hit me—a searing pain that tears through my chest like a jagged blade. It was as if someone had reached inside me and ripped a piece of my soul away. My breath hitched, the agony so raw and visceral that it stole the air from my lungs. The sensation was hauntingly familiar, a cruel echo of what I felt when Ace was killed.

“Luna—!” Sirius reaches for me, but it’s too late. I duck under his arm and bolt into the room.

Persephone turns, her cruel smile faltering as her eyes lock onto mine. Onyx’s gaze snaps to me, his face a mix of anger, relief, and something deeper. Then I saw her, Lia’s lifeless body crumbles to the ground, her heart clenched in Persephone’s bloodied hand like some macabre trophy.

---

Chapter 67: The Last Stand.

“You bitch!” my voice shaking with rage and horror. My entire body trembles as I lunge forward, but Onyx catches me, his strong arms locking around me as if he could hold me together when I was already breaking apart.

Persephone smirks—a cruel, triumphant smile that makes my skin crawl—and drops Lia’s heart with a sickening thud. Onyx’s grip around me tightens, his own rage palpable as his chest rumbles with a low, threatening growl.

“I am going to kill you,” I hiss, venom dripping from every word.

Lia’s lifeless body is wrapped in those wretched purple berry vines.

“Woah,” a male voice drawls lazily from beside Persephone. I turn sharply to face him. He has the same golden hair and sharp features as her, the familial resemblance undeniable, though his smile is laced with something worse. His eyes shamelessly roam my body, lingering on the swell of my baby bump and the curve of my cleavage. My stomach twisted, regret flashing through me for daring to wear this low V-neck baby doll dress.

Onyx snarls a feral sound that silences the bastard in an instant, pulling me even closer to him, his hold possessive and territorial.

“See that, dear?” his grandmother smiles. “That’s love.”

Persephone’s smirk falters for half a second, her eyes narrow. “The only thing you’ll be killing are those things growing inside you.”

“You should’ve stayed in your coffin, Persephone,” I say, “instead of crawling out here like some moth-eaten relic desperate for attention.”

Her lips curl into a murderous snarl. “And you should’ve stayed hidden in your mansion where you belong, you insolent brat.”

“Funny, I didn’t know a corpse could talk so much shit,” I shoot back. Persephone’s eyes narrow to slits. “Aw, did I hit a nerve?” I coo mockingly. “You know, for someone so ancient, you’d think you’d have thicker skin. Or at least better comebacks.”

“You insolent little—”

“What?” I cut her off, raising an eyebrow. “Going to call me a brat again? Oh no, however, will I recover from such an original insult? Really, Persephone, it’s almost impressive how someone with so many centuries under her belt can still sound like a teenager with daddy issues.”

Her face twists, the smirk she wore moments ago now replaced with a furious scowl. “You think you’re clever, girl?”

“No,” I say, shrugging dramatically. “I know I’m clever. Especially watching you throw tantrums like you’re auditioning for some washed-up horror film sequel. What’s it called? Revenge of the Desperate and Delusional?”

“Enough!” she hisses.

“And honestly,” I add with faux sweetness, “what’s with the theatrics? The mill? The gas? The rogues? The hunters? The heart-stealing? You’re overcompensating for something, aren’t you? Let me guess—you couldn’t get Onyx to love you, so you settled for terrorizing everyone else like some second-rate villain with a sad sob story.”

“You insufferable—”

“—Goodness, do you ever bloody shut up?” I interrupt. “You’re like a bad monologue that just keeps going. I’d rather chew on glass than listen to you justify why no one loves you.”

Persephone’s face contorted in rage, her claws digging into her own palms as if it were the only thing stopping her from lunging at me.

Onyx tightens his hold on me, his low chuckle rumbling in my ear. “Easy, love. She’s going to lose what’s left of her mind at this rate.”

“Lose it?” I quip, still glaring at her. “I’d say it’s long bloody gone. Tell me, is this what rock bottom feels like for immortals? Must be embarrassing.”

“I like you,” Onyx’s grandmother says, a fond smile softening her sharp features. “It’s a shame we had to meet under such grim circumstances, but don’t worry, dear. We’ll make up for it soon enough.”

Persephone’s eyes turn cold as ice. “Enough!” she snaps, her voice dripping with venom. “You think I care about your little pleasantries? I’ve spent decades building my power, sacrificing everything, and you think I’m going to let a brat like you ruin it all with your sarcasm?”

“You should control that temper of yours, child,” Onyx’s grandmother says softly. “It’s not becoming of someone who’s supposed to be all-powerful.”

“You’ve just squandered your last chance at altering the mark,” Onyx says, his voice cold and unwavering. “You’ve lost. But if you release everyone now, I’ll still grant you mercy. This is your last opportunity. Don’t make the mistake of thinking there’s anything left to gain from this madness.” The bloke beside her looks like he is ready to take the deal.

“One thing I’ve learned about our world,” Persephone says in a way too calm voice, “is that there’s always a way. I may have lost today, but tomorrow is a brand new day, and I always find a way to make things right... for me. You may think I’m finished now, but you’re wrong. I will rebuild, and when I do, I’ll tear this world apart piece by piece until nothing is left but what I want. You’ve seen nothing yet. I’m just getting started. This isn’t the end, Onyx. This is just the beginning. And no matter how many times you try to stop me, I’ll always find a way to rise again.”

“It’ll be a bit tricky to rise if you’re dismembered and thrown into a furnace,” I muttered dryly.

I groan, my grip tightening around Onyx’s hand as another contraction hits. The pain is more frequent now, and I can feel something warm running down my legs. A wave of panic washes over me. No, no, no—this can’t be happening now!

“Onyx!” I gasp, my voice strained with fear.

His face drains of colour, but he quickly masks his worry, pulling me into his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine,” he says, though I could hear the doubt in his voice, even if his eyes betray him.

His glossy gaze is filled with fear, love, and determination, but all I can feel through our bond is his frantic need to protect me and his undeniable love. The sound of footsteps reaches us. More vampires.

My heart pounds in my chest. “They’re coming!” I scream, my knees buckling as another contraction hits like a storm.

Onyx’s gaze flickers to Persephone, who immediately takes a step back, knowing exactly what is about to unfold. His grandmother nods giving him permission to do whatever it takes even if it means her life.

But before I can blink, Onyx is replaced by Skylar. “You have to hold on,” she says urgently.

“I don’t think they care!” I scream, feeling another wave of pain crashing through me. “These little monsters want out, and they’re not going to let my vagina get in the way!”

The pain is unbearable and relentless. Every contraction sends waves of fire through my body, and I wish I’d joined a nunnery instead of ever getting into this mess. Around me, all I can hear is the chaos—screaming, growling, hissing—and the unmistakable smell of blood thickening in the air.

“I want Onyx!” I cry out, desperate. But it was his grandmother who gave me a calm, almost affectionate smile as she spread my legs. “He’ll be back soon,” she assures me quickly, before rolling up my dress. “You’re crowning!”

My heart skips. “What does that mean?!”

“It means,” she says, her tone both matter-of-fact and gentle, “that those pups are coming, whether you’re ready or not. And nothing, not even you, can stop them.”

Skylar squeezes my hands. “You got this.”

“You need to push!” His grandmother urges.

I nod, feeling the pressure mounting, the world narrowing to the burning ache of impending motherhood and the storm brewing outside. It was time. And there is no going back.

I grip Skylar’s hands tightly, my entire body trembling as another contraction rips through me. A guttural grunt tears from my throat, morphing into a scream as I feel the intense, hot stretching of flesh. The smell of blood—my blood—filling the air, thick and overwhelming. Onyx wants to be here with me but before he can move, two large vampires lunge at him, their claws slashing through the air. He tears into them effortlessly, ripping one of their spines out with a sickening crack. The brutality of it didn’t seem to faze him; his focus is still entirely on me.

“Just one more big push. You’re almost there,” his grandmother urges, her voice calm, despite the chaos around us.

I nod, take a deep breath, and push with everything I have. The pressure is overwhelming, the feeling of my body being torn apart, but then, with a final, powerful effort, I feel the baby slide out. The sound of my newborn’s cry, loud and clear, makes my heart leap with joy.

“It’s a boy,” she announces, quickly wrapping the child in a piece of torn fabric from her dress and setting him gently on the ground.

A son. I have a son. We have a son. The tears that fill my eyes are a mixture of relief and overwhelming love. I glance across the room at Onyx. His gaze is locked on me, filled with so much raw emotion.

“That’s it, angel,” he says, his voice rough, but full of pride as he rips a heart out of the chest of the vampire that attacked him. “You’re doing so good.”

I force a shaky smile, my heart swelling with love for him and our new family. But before I can catch my breath, another contraction slams into me.

“One more, darling. Come on, you’re almost there.”

I grit my teeth and push again, the agony crashing through me. The second baby slips out, and I hear the faint, piercing wail of another newborn.

“It’s a girl,” she says, her voice filled with warmth as she carefully places our daughter next to her brother.

A girl. My heart swells with joy, the tears falling freely down my cheeks. But the relief was short-lived. Another contraction, more intense than before and I know that the third child is on the way. I can feel Onyx’s anxiety. He knows. He knows that after this last birth if he didn’t get the Mark from Persephone, it was over. He let out a growl so powerful, it shook the room. A murderously possessive growl that seems to echo the pain and urgency that I can feel rising in my own chest.

I scream, my body wracked with pain as I push with everything left inside of me. The third baby came with one final, unbearable push. Another girl. The room seems frozen for a moment as I see her, tiny and perfect, lying next to her siblings. I can’t contain the overwhelming rush of emotions. The tears, the exhaustion, the elation. I look at our children—our perfect, beautiful children—and know with every fibre of my being that they were worth every ounce of pain I endured. The pain, the blood, the fear—it all melted away. There is still so much to be done, so much at stake. But right then, in this moment, nothing matters but this. These children, these tiny lives we created together. I have no regrets. This—this is what being a mother feels like. An unbreakable bond of love so fierce and unconditional that I would die for them without hesitation. I would do anything to protect them, to keep them safe, to make them happy. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel truly whole.

“No, no, no, please Onyx, don’t!” I turn to Onyx who is advancing toward Persephone, his claws out, ready to tear her apart.

Sirius is tackled by the blond bloke who I assume is her cousin Jorin and three other vampires. Then, like a sharp blade through the air, the scent of blood hit me—heavy, metallic, and suffocating. It wasn’t just any blood; it was my blood. It fills the air like poison, drowning everything around me. If birth pain was the fire, this was the inferno. Every fibre of my being screams in agony, every nerve flaring up as though it were being ripped apart from the inside of me. A scream tears itself from my throat, raw and guttural, a sound I didn’t even recognize as my own.

Onyx’s head snaps around, his eyes meeting mine. For a split second, his steps falter, a flash of horror crossing his face and the world goes silent as I watch Persephone yank Onyx’s heart from his chest without a second thought. His body trembles and with a strangled gasp, he collapses to his knees, the very life draining from him. My chest erupts in a pain so excruciating, so overwhelming, that it feels like my very soul is being wrenched from me. The pain is indescribable, worse than anything I could have imagined. It is as if the very essence is ripped from my body, leaving nothing but a hollow, empty shell behind.

“No! NOOOO!” I scream, my voice breaking into a desperate cry.

But my scream is drowned out by the sickening sound of Onyx’s lifeless body hitting the floor. Persephone stands there, heart in hand, as she weeps. She wept for the man she had destroyed, the one she had condemned to death. The one she claims to love. The audacity. The insanity.

As his body crumbles to the ground, lifeless, a hollow silence falls over me. I feel nothing. The world is still. My heart, which had once pounded in my chest, ceases to beat. The agony, the rage, the fear—gone. It is as if my soul had shut down entirely, a switch flipped off in the deepest part of me. All my emotions were ripped from me, leaving nothing but an empty, cold void where once there had been life. I can’t even feel the tears that should have come. They wouldn’t come because everything inside me had been snuffed out in that moment—just as Onyx’s life had been.

“Luna?” Skylar’s voice is soft, laced with worry and disbelief. Her gaze is frantic, searching for any sign of life in my eyes. “What did you do?”

The question echoes in my ears, but I can barely process it. I force myself to stand, my legs trembling beneath me. I clutch my stomach ignoring the pain.

Sirius manages to block the entrance, his body a shield between us and the growing army of hunters, vampires, and rogues that are closing in on our position. I can feel the weight of time pressing in on me. Every second we spend in this hellhole brings us closer to our end. The door won’t hold much longer—just a few more minutes, maybe, before it would shatter under the pressure. And when it did, we’d be overrun. We’d die, every one of us, and Onyx’s death would be for nothing. I will not let that happen.

“Leave,” I command.

“Luna—”

“I said leave,” The words rip through the air, each one imbued with such dominance and power that even I felt the weight of them.

It is as if something deep inside me, something primal and ancient, was awakened, and it was a force that brooked no argument. The room falls silent, and for a moment, I feel the power surge within me—raw and uncontrollable. My gaze locks with Sirius’s, and without a word, he knows what I mean.

“We need to go!” Sirius’s voice is urgent, but there is no hesitation in his actions. He moves swiftly, grabbing Skylar who had our baby boy and Onyx’s grandmother, who is cradling our crying baby girls.

Their wails fill the room—sharp, heart-wrenching cries that tear at my soul. They feel the severing of their bond with their father, the bond that had connected them since before their birth. I can sense their pain, their confusion, and it echoed through me like a deep, resonating ache. But strangely, the more I felt it, the more I didn’t. I can still feel their distress, but it didn’t consume me. I could sense their confusion, but I wasn’t overwhelmed by it. It was as if I had disconnected from everything, numbed myself just enough to remain functional, to hold on to the little strength I had left. It is a strange, unnatural peace that washed over me as if the storm of grief and loss had been dulled to a quiet, distant hum. I want to scream, I want to rage at the unfairness of it all, but I can’t. It was as if the pain of losing Onyx, of watching him fall, had sealed off the parts of me that would break.

With one final glance at their perfect faces, I say, “Keep our children safe and together.”

I can see the struggle in their eyes—they wanted to argue, wanted to stay with me. But at that moment, they understood. They had no choice.

“We will protect them with our lives,” Sirius swears as he ushers them out of the room.

As soon as they leave, the door splits in two, the sound of it cracking like thunder. I stumble forward, standing at the entrance of the tunnel they’d escaped through, my legs barely holding me up. Persephone raises her hand, a silent command that halts the approaching vampires in their tracks. She steps forward, her eyes locking with mine, as she gently places Onyx’s heart on the cold, dusty floor. Her fingers, trembling ever so slightly as she tucks his hair behind his ears—an intimate, mockingly tender gesture that makes every fibre of my being burn with fury.

I want to tear her limbs from her body, but I know what has to be done. His sacrifice will not be in vain. I would not let that happen. Not while I still had breath in my lungs.

Jorin claps his hands together, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Most beloveds would have lost their minds by now, gone feral with rage. But not you. You radiate power. Dominance. You switched off your humanity right before the pain could consume you. It’s... truly remarkable.”

“Shut up you idiot,” she hisses at him, her eyes burning with fury. She turns to me, her voice a venomous hiss. “You did this,” she spat, her fury turning her words into daggers.

“How so?” I ask, my voice dripping with mock curiosity, savouring the absurdity of her logic.

She sneers, her face contorted with rage. “If it weren’t for you, we’d be together. But now, if I can’t have him, no one will.” She steps closer, her hands clenched into fists, the intensity of her hatred thick in the air. “And those bastards of yours? They won’t live to see another day.”

I stand tall, forcing every ounce of strength into my frame. “You’ll never win, Persephone. Not like this,” I whisper, the words slipping past my lips like a promise.

Persephone’s face twists with fury, her hands trembling as she clenches them into fists. “You think you can stop me?” she snarles, stepping closer. Her voice drops, venom seeping into every word. “You took everything from me. Everything I was building, and now you’re standing in my way. I should’ve destroyed you the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’re nothing,” I say. “Your obsession has destroyed you. You’re already broken beyond repair, and you’re too blind to see it.” Persephone’s eyes flash with anger. “Tell me one thing, how did you know we were coming.”

“Does it matter?” her eyes glued to Onyx’s lifeless body.

“It does. It means there is a traitor in our midst. Just curious who it was.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“It was an anonymous tip,” Jorin adds.

I stumble back into the wall for support, my vision blurring at the edges, the blood draining from me far too quickly. The room wavers around me, dark spots clouding my vision, and I can feel the last threads of strength slipping through my grasp like grains of sand. The coldness of the stone presses against my skin, but I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from deep within me. It came out jagged and hysterical like I was on the edge of losing myself.

Persephone’s eyes flash with fury, her breath quickening. “What’s so funny bitch?”

I meet her gaze, the smirk never leaving my face. “Do you even have it?”

“You mean this?” she sneers, holding up a black ring with a rounded base, glistening and slick with Onyx’s blood.

An evil smirk curves across my face because I know what needs to be done. My body is shutting down, blood pooling beneath me, but I don’t care—not anymore. I know I wasn’t going to make it out of here but our children did. They will live—that much I swore to the very gods above, to the bloody moon goddess herself, if she even exists. If you’re up there, you better listen to me now. Keep them safe. Let them grow strong and free. Let them find love. The thought of Onyx—his eyes, his voice, his touch—sent a sharp ache through my chest, a void too vast to fill. We should’ve been the ones to raise them but it’s too late now. I tilt my head and let out a chuckle that echoes hauntingly in the silence.

Persephone’s face twists, torn between suspicion and irritation. “What does a bitch who lost her beloved and about to lose her bastard children have to be happy about?” she snaps, clutching that bloodstained ring like it was the key to her salvation.

Slowly, I reach into my pocket, my movements deliberate. Her gaze flicks to my hand, narrowing with every second. “You’re too easy to rile up. For someone so powerful you’ve got a fragile little ego, don’t you?”

“Watch your tongue!” she barks, venom dripping from every word.

“Or what?” I shoot back, a laugh bubbling up despite the pain rattling my bones. My fingers curl around the cold metal in my pocket.

“You can barely stand, you stupid girl. You’ve already lost so why keep fighting?”

I push off the wall, my balance swaying dangerously, but I avoid faltering. “Lost? You don’t get it, do you?” I grin, all teeth and malice. “I’ve already won. Darkness shatters, and light ascends. Shadows break, their power ends. By blood-bound chains, now they dissolve. Eternal light, burn the wicked absolved.”

A sudden rush of wind tore through the room, violent and howling. Persephone’s triumphant smirk falters, her hand tightening around the mark as she staggers back.

“What is this!?” she shouts. “What are you doing?!”

“Aeternum lumen, nocentem incinerant.” The wind dies as abruptly as it had begun, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

“What did you do?”

The mark on Persephone’s hands glowed—first a dull red, then white—before it burst into flames. She tore it from her finger and hurled it to the ground engulfing in flames. I felt it then—a sudden, powerful tingling radiating from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. My body is still as the sensation washes over me, and the relentless bleeding finally stopped.

It was over.

We did it.

But it was too late.

I had already lost too much blood, my limbs weak, my vision still darkening at the edges. My body sways, but I refuse to fall. Persephone’s gaze snaps to me, her expression shifting from shock to anger. We both know what comes next—there will be no walking out of here alive.

And I wasn’t about to let her leave, either.

“Impossible. How-how did you…” she trails off flabbergasted.

Honestly, I didn’t think it would have worked but it did.

My lips curl into a faint, grim smile as I steady myself. “Let’s finish this.” I pull the small silver device from my pocket, my thumb pressing down firmly to activate it.

Every muscle in my body screams for rest, but I hold myself steady. This pointless exchange had given Sirius and the others just enough time to escape. That was all that mattered now.

Persephone’s eyes widen. “What the hell is that?!” She staggers back, and the vampires and hunters around her instinctively mirror her fear.

“It’s the same detonator Onyx had!” Jorin stammers, his face going pale as realisation dawned.

“You think that could hurt us?” she hisses. I look at the detonator. “You stupid girl, we are immortals,” she laughs, and everyone else joins in.

I tilt my head, my own laughter slipping past my lips—low, dark, and knowing. “Oh, I know,” I say. “Too bad this isn’t any old ordinary fire,” I meet Persephone’s gaze.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses her face.

“You’re bluffing,” Jorin says, but the fear in his voice betrays him.

“Am I? For all you know, this spell was woven with old magic similar to that of your fancy gas.”

Their laughter cuts off, replaced by nervous glances as they eye each other, trying to figure out if I was full of shit or if they were actually about to die. God, I hope it was the latter. But I know Lia would never let me down.

“She’s lying,” Persophone glares.

I let out a dark, breathless laugh, my vision swimming but my smirk never faltering. “They say beauty’s only skin-deep,” my voice dripping with venom. “But your ugliness? Oh, sweetheart, that’s bone-deep.” I tilt my head, the grin plastered on my face as sharp as a knife. “And unlike you, Persephone…” I extend my middle finger in a triumphant, final salute. “I’m my own bitch, bitch.”

The second my thumb left it, all I could see was the blinding orange and red flames erupting like a roaring sun, swallowing the room in an inferno of vengeance. The ground shook violently beneath me. In that instant, I feel nothing but peace—peace knowing my children are safe, knowing Onyx’s sacrifice was not in vain. The flames consumed everything, and the darkness welcomed me home.

The End.