“They do realize I’m not made of glass, right?” I whispered to Sylvie after Zane actually growled at a floating decoration that drifted too near my head.
Sylvie’s eyes sparkled with something that looked suspiciously like knowledge. “Oh, they realize a lot of things now…”
Lord Richard Blackthorn materialized near the drink station, looking as perfectly composed as ever despite the chaos of the party. “The ancient blood seems to have done its work,” heobserved, watching me sip my champagne. “Though my dear Helena insists on continued monitoring.”
Speaking of Lady Helena, she was currently arguing with Lady Victoria Lionheart and Lord Thanatos Shadowmere about proper observation protocols. “The resonance patterns are crucial to understanding—” she insisted, while both elders looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.
“Aunt Helena,” Alpha Blackthorn said, “perhaps we could discuss research methods at a more appropriate time?”
“But the power readings?—”
“Are stable,” Uncle Owen cut in smoothly, appearing with more blood-infused drinks. His military training showed in the way he’d positioned himself between me and the enthusiastic researcher. “As confirmed bymultipletests.”
The party continued in a whirl of familiar faces and fancy blood cocktails. The brothers remained my constant shadows, their presence both thrilling and comforting. When the constant attention and Hunter’s K-pop fight video marathon finally became overwhelming, I slipped out to the rooftop garden.
The night air was crisp, carrying the scents of the city below. From up here, I could see the crowds still gathered around Whitlock Tower, their excitement a tangible energy. Electronic billboards continued to play clips from that night, turning New Vale’s skyline into a highlight reel of supernatural power.
But none of that mattered as much as the three presences that joined me, their familiar scents wrapping around me like the world’s most possessive security blanket.
“Needed some air, precious?” Archer’s breath ghosted across my neck, making me shiver.
“The view helps,” I managed, hyperaware of Ryker’s heat against my back, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my hip that sent electricity through my veins.
Zane stepped in front of me, and my fangs ached at his proximity. His scent—midnight and starlight—wrapped around me, making my head spin. When his thumb brushed my bottom lip, my whole body trembled.
I didn’t think. Couldn’t think. I just rose on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. His sharp intake of breath was my only warning before his hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head back. The kiss tasted like frost and need, making me whimper.
Ryker’s grip tightened on my hip, spinning me around. His kiss was different—all lightning and storm winds that left me gasping. Then Archer’s hands caught my waist, his mouth claiming mine with playful heat that made my knees weak.
My body hummed with an energy I didn’t understand. Every place they touched felt like sparks against my skin. The word ‘mine’ pounded through my blood like a drum, primitive and demanding, though I couldn’t understand why.
What was this pull? Why did it feel like they belonged to me when we hadn’t even talked about what we were to each other?
Below us, New Vale sparkled like a jewel box of supernatural life. In the penthouse, family and friends celebrated my return. But here, surrounded by three alphas who made my blood sing with something ancient and unknowable, I felt the beginning of something both thrilling and terrifying.
The questions swirled like snow in a storm, but for now, I let myself sink into their embrace. Tomorrow I’d worry about what this meant—these feelings that felt bigger than attraction, this possessiveness I couldn’t explain.
Tonight, I just wanted to stay in this moment, even if I didn’t understand why it felt like destiny.
Chapter 23
Dark Haven
Dark Haven existed in eternal twilight, its Gothic spires piercing clouds that never quite dispersed. In his private chambers atop the highest tower, Dominic Nightshade watched the footage for the hundredth time.
On the obsidian screen, Luca Valentine floated in a maelstrom of pure light. His power, raw and ancient, made even the oldest beings kneel. The video feed crackled with interference—supernatural power that strong tended to destroy mortal technology—but the effect was unmistakable.
“Play it again,” he commanded, swirling ancient blood in a crystal glass. “The moment he first manifests.”
His spymaster, Xavier, adjusted the viewing crystal. The scene rewound to Luca’s kidnapping. That fool Percy—now very permanently deceased—had actually done them a favor. Without his botched attempt, they might never have witnessed the Valentine bloodline’s true potential.
“Fascinating,” drawled Lord Constantine from his position by the window. “The little prince who fled our city has become quite… interesting.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Though his choice in protectors is unfortunate.”
On-screen, the Whitlock brothers arrived in a display of power that would have been impressive if it hadn’t made Dominic’s fangs ache with irritation. Frost, lightning, and solar light—three alphas in perfect sync, their power wrapping around Luca like they had any right to claim him.
“The wolves are irrelevant,” Dominic said, though the crystal in his hand cracked under sudden pressure. “What interests me is his effect on the ancients.”
The footage shifted to after his power manifestation. Various angles from their spies showed the aftermath—supernatural beings of all species dropping to their knees as his light washed over them. Even Sebastian Blackthorn, that proud aristocrat, had bowed his head in his presence.