Adrian's POV
"I bet you thought I'd die easily," Damien's voice cut through the chaos like a blade slicing through silence.
I froze. My chest constricted. The air around me felt thick, choking, unreal.
No. It couldn't be.
My vision blurred for a second, and I thought maybe my mind had finally broken under the guilt. Maybe this was punishment, an illusion, a hallucination sent by the gods to torment me. But when my eyes adjusted, I saw him.
Damien.
Standing there. Alive.
Here he was… eyes burning with the fire of vengeance, veins pulsing with fury.
"D-Damien?" I stammered, unable to believe it.
He didn't answer. He didn't even blink. The only thing I saw was rage, pure, merciless rage.
Reality shattered into violence when he lunged at me with his sword.
"Wait, Damien, please..!" I tried to block, but he was faster. Our blades clashed for a split second before he twisted, his movement as sharp as lightning. Pain tore through my arm as his blade sliced across it.
A cry left my throat. I stumbled back, clutching my bleeding arm, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Please… let me explain," I begged, voice breaking. "I didn't mean for..."
He didn't care. He didn't hear me. His face twisted with a mixture of heartbreak and wrath as he raised his sword again.
"Damien.."
But before he could strike, his attention snapped past me. I turned. Lucien stood there, sword drawn, smirking, the monster who had started all this.
Damien's fury shifted instantly. With a roar, he lunged at Lucien. The two collided, metal clanging, growls and grunts echoing through the grand hall.
I stood frozen, torn between terror and heartbreak.
He wasn't going to stop. He'd fight until one of them was dead.
And I...
I couldn't fight him.
I couldn't lift my sword against the man I loved.
So I did the only thing I could. I ran.
I turned and fled down the corridor, ignoring the screams, the sounds of swords clashing, and the roars of beasts. The palace was chaos, guards screaming, bodies collapsing, flames devouring the banners that once symbolized power and peace.
I locked myself in my chamber, the echo of the lock clicking sounding like a sentence passed.
And then, silence.
My knees gave out. I sank to the floor, trembling. My blood dripped onto the marble tiles, leaving crimson stains like guilt etched into the stone.
What had I done?
How did I become this?
The Vampire King, the cold ruler of the night, hiding like a coward in his own palace.
My throat tightened. I pressed my back against the door, clutching my bleeding arm. "You're pathetic," I whispered to myself. "You're a king, yet you hide."
The pain in my arm was nothing compared to the storm tearing through my chest.
I remembered his eyes, the warmth that used to linger there when he looked at me. I remembered his laughter, the way it made my heart feel light. And now those eyes looked at me with hatred.
He wanted me dead.
And maybe I deserved it.
The tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. No one could see me like this, not my guards, not my council. No one.
But the walls didn't care. The shadows didn't judge.
So I let myself break.
"Damien…" I whispered. "You're alive. You're alive."
My voice cracked, and I realized that even though he was furious, even though he wanted to kill me, I was relieved.
Relieved he wasn't dead.
But I couldn't stay here. I couldn't let him leave without hearing the truth. Even if it cost me my life, I had to explain.
I pushed myself up, blood dripping down my fingers, and muttered, "If I die tonight, then let it be so. But he deserves to know."
I grabbed my sword, not to fight, but to face him.
When I stepped out of the room, the corridors were filled with the scent of blood and smoke. Shadows moved, lifeless bodies littered the floor. My palace, my kingdom had turned into a graveyard.
And then I saw him.
At the far end of the hallway, beneath the flickering torchlight, Damien stood, not as a man, but as the beast I feared the most.
His wolf form.
His fur was a dark, silvery black, streaked with crimson from battle. His fangs gleamed under the dim light, his claws soaked in blood. His eyes, those golden eyes that once looked at me with affection were now glowing with feral fury.
He looked like a god of war.
Terrifying. Beautiful. Unstoppable.
"Damien," I managed to say, my voice trembling.
He turned sharply, growling. His chest heaved as his gaze locked on me, and for a second, I thought he would pounce.
My body froze, every instinct screaming to run. But I didn't.
"I had no choice!" I shouted. "You have to believe me!"
His growl deepened, low and guttural. He looked ready to tear me apart.
"Please," I begged. "Everyone was expecting me to act! Their loyalty was slipping, I had to do something! I didn't know they'd come for you! I only wanted them to send a warning, not destroy everything!"
He didn't move. Didn't blink.
The silence was heavier than the blood-soaked air.
Then, with a sudden shudder, his body began to shift. The sound of bones cracking filled the hallway as fur retracted, claws turning back into fingers, fangs retracting.
When it was over, he was kneeling on the floor, naked, his body trembling, sweat glistening on his skin. His clothes were shredded, hanging off him in tatters.
For a moment, I saw the man I loved, the man beneath the fury.
"Damien," I whispered, stepping forward. "You're seem weak. Let me help you."
He looked up at me with eyes still wild, and before I could reach him, he shoved me away, stumbling to his feet and grabbing his sword. The point pressed against my chest.
"If killing me will make you feel better," I said softly, tears burning in my eyes, "then do it."
His hand trembled. His breathing was heavy.
"You can't be it," he spat. "You can't be the same man who used to hold me like I meant something."
My heart cracked.
"You're good at lying, Adrian. Good at pretending." His voice was bitter. "Lucien said it, you ordered him to kill me. You wanted me dead! And as far as i know, he is your second in command, so he dare not lie"
"That's not true!" I shouted. "I..."
"Don't lie to me!" he snapped. "You wanted me weak! You wanted to see me destroyed so your pride could stay intact!"
Each word stabbed deeper than his blade ever could.
"Damien...wait..."
"You're a manipulator. You think you can play with hearts and get away with it. But I won't let you."
I couldn't take it anymore.
"Enough!" I screamed, the sound echoing off the blood-stained walls.
He froze, startled.
"Why would I order my guards to kill the one I love?" The words ripped out of me before I could stop them.
His sword lowered slightly.
"I love you, Damien," I whispered, voice breaking. "As much as I try to deny it, as much as I try to hate you, I can't. You're in my blood, in my soul, in every breath I take."
The tears I'd held back finally fell. "When I heard you were dead, I didn't leave my room for days. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw you. I cried until I had nothing left."
He stared at me, silent, breathing hard.
The fury in his eyes flickered. His grip on the sword loosened.
"Adrian..." he whispered finally. He didn't finish. Instead, he reached out and grabbed my hand. His skin was cold, trembling.
"Come with me," he said, his voice softer now, like the Damien I know.
He led me out of the hall, out of the carnage, through corridors littered with bodies and broken armor. The stench of death lingered, but somehow, it felt like we were the only two people left in the world.
He pulled me into my chamber, the same room I'd once locked myself in. He shut the door behind us, bolting it.
"At least no one will disturb us now," he murmured.
I sat on the edge of the bed, exhausted. My tears hadn't stopped.
I looked up at him, this man who had nearly killed me but also saved me from drowning in my own guilt.
"I'm sorry," I said again, voice hoarse. "I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to prove to my people that I was still in control. I didn't know things would spiral like this."
He didn't answer. He walked toward the dresser, grabbing a torn strip of cloth and a small silver flask. He knelt before me, taking my bleeding arm gently in his hands.
The sting of the alcohol made me flinch, but I didn't pull away.
"Hold still," he said softly.
His hands, those same hands that had once been my enemy's wrapped my wound with quiet care.
When he was done, he looked up at me, his face unreadable. Then, without warning, he stood and pulled me into his arms.
I froze, then melted into the embrace.
I sobbed against his shoulder, unable to hold it in anymore.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I was angry. I wanted to hate you so badly, but I can't."
"I don't deserve your forgiveness," I murmured.
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine. "Maybe not. But I still can't stop caring."
We stood there, just breathing, two broken kings bound by love and ruin.
Finally, he exhaled and stepped back. "My business here tonight is done. I have to gather my men and return to my kingdom."
Our eyes met. Time froze. The room felt heavier, as if it were holding its breath.
He brushed a hand against my cheek, his thumb tracing the edge of my jaw. Then he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my ear.
"Stop crying," he whispered. "You look like a baby."
And just like that, he turned, unlocked the door, and walked away.
He didn't look back at me.
The door shut behind him with a soft click.
I stood there, silent. My heart felt hollow, my soul aching.
Then I sank onto the bed, staring at the empty doorway.
I shouldn't have said it.
I shouldn't have told him I loved him.
Because now, I knew, I had given him another weapon to destroy me with.
What if he didn't feel the same?
And yet… part of me still wished he'd stayed.