Adrian's POV
The moment the heavy doors closed behind Damien and the last echo of his presence faded from my halls, I realized how dangerously still the castle had become. The silence clung to me, suffocating, as if every stone, every dark velvet drape, every flickering torch had seen too much. My throat tightened, not from regret exactly, but from the rawness of what had transpired between us in that hidden chamber.
I should not have allowed it. I should not have let him get close enough to touch me, let alone... claim me in such a way. I was a king, sworn to my people, to the stability of this kingdom. Yet with him, restraint had slipped through my fingers like sand, leaving me weak, exposed, and vulnerable in ways I had vowed never to be again.
I pressed a hand against the cool stone wall of the corridor, grounding myself. His scent still lingered faintly, wolfish and untamed, mixed with the salt of sweat and something far more intoxicating. Damn him. Damien had left me with a body that still remembered, with a heart that refused to obey.
And now...now I had to face Lucien.
As if summoned by my thoughts, Lucien's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"You let him leave?"
I turned. Lucien stood at the end of the corridor, his pale face carved into suspicion, eyes glinting beneath the torchlight. He was dressed immaculately, as always, but his hands were folded behind his back, his posture too rigid. He had been waiting, watching.
"I did," I said evenly.
Lucien tilted his head, studying me as one might study prey before striking. "After the things he said in council today? After insulting this kingdom and nearly attacking me? You allow him to walk free?"
His tone bristled with accusation, but I forced myself to remain calm. My people admired composure. They expected it.
"The meeting was already fractured," I replied. "Holding him here against his will would have accomplished nothing except fueling more hatred between our clans."
Lucien took a step closer. His lips twitched into something like a smile, but it was too sharp, too knowing. "And yet… you disappeared with him afterward. Alone. No guards. No witnesses. Tell me, cousin, what did you and the wolf king speak of in such secrecy?"
The question hit me harder than I expected. My jaw clenched, but I let none of my unease show.
"That is none of your concern," I said.
Lucien chuckled softly, low and mocking.
"On the contrary, everything you do is my concern. You know as well as I that this kingdom cannot afford reckless alliances or reckless attachments."
I stepped forward, close enough that the torchlight caught the edge of my crown. "Careful, Lucien. Your tongue treads dangerously close to treason."
His smile widened, cruel and thin. "Does it? Or does it simply tread too close to the truth?"
I left him there, simmering in his suspicion, because I knew if I stayed longer, I would betray myself. Lucien's eyes had a way of peeling back layers, of sniffing out weakness. And weakness...weakness was something I could not afford.
The rest of the day blurred into obligation.
Court matters, reports from the outer borders, arguments over trade routes and supplies. Each voice in the council chamber rose and fell like the drone of insects, and yet my thoughts refused to stay tethered. Every time I lifted a goblet of wine to my lips, I tasted the memory of Damien's mouth.
Every time I heard the clatter of steel from the training yards, I remembered the strength of his grip, the way he had pinned me with more force than any enemy ever dared.
I should have hated him for it. I should have hated myself. Instead, I found myself hungering.
By the time the sun began to sink beyond the black hills, I dismissed the council. I told them I needed solitude to consider the events of the day, though in truth, my solitude had become my only refuge. My chambers were dark and quiet when I entered, the curtains drawn, the scent of burning cedar wafting through the air.
I removed my crown and set it down with deliberate care. The gold felt heavier tonight, its weight pressing against my thoughts.
I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, hands pressed against my face. I could still see Damien as he had been in that chamber, angry, reckless, wild, yet beneath it all, carrying something deeper. Something that echoed the hunger inside me. His words, his touch, his defiance, they clung to me like chains.
A knock at the door startled me.
"Enter," I called, my voice sharper than intended.
One of my guards, a tall soldier named Rian, stepped inside and bowed. "Your Majesty. A raven has arrived. From Blackthorn."
I lifted my head. Finally.
"Bring it."
He approached, handing me the scroll sealed in dark wax. I broke it open and read swiftly, eyes narrowing. The Blackthorn kingdom had agreed to my proposal, though not without demands of their own. They wanted land, trade concessions, assurances of military support should the wolves attack again. They smelled opportunity, and they wanted to bleed it dry.
I folded the letter slowly, considering. This could strengthen my hand… or break it, depending on how it was wielded.
"Leave me," I told Rian.
When he was gone, I allowed myself a bitter laugh. Here I was, king of one of the most powerful vampire clans, ruler of an ancient throne, master of endless nights and yet one man, one wolf, had me unraveling.
I leaned back against the headboard, closing my eyes. Lucien would not stop watching me. Blackthorn would not stop demanding.
My people would not stop needing me to be strong. But when Damien looked at me… it was as if none of that mattered. As if I were not a king or a leader or a weapon forged by centuries of war. I was just… Adrian.
And perhaps that was the most dangerous truth of all.
I should have slept. The candles burned low, the hours slipped by, but sleep evaded me. Every creak of the castle, every whisper of wind beyond the windows made me wonder if Damien had truly left or if some part of him lingered still, haunting me.
I told myself I would not see him again. That the next meeting, if it came, would be one of war, not whispered apologies and reckless touch. Yet even as I whispered the vow into the darkness, my body betrayed me. My heart betrayed me. Because deep down, I knew, I would let him back in. Again and again, until one of us was destroyed.
And perhaps… that was what I feared most.