Page 12 of Dearest Alpha Brothers 1: Vampire Prince

“Fix your shirt,” Zane said automatically, though his mind was already shifting to alpha mode. The Shadowmereshadbeen suspiciously quiet lately. “And remember?—”

“Yes, yes. Best behavior. No hiding in priceless artifacts. No commenting on Old Lady Cheng’s endless Ming Dynasty stories. And no asking Lord Thanatos if death angels actually carry scythes,” Archer rattled off, slumping back into his seat. “Though I still think asking Lord Blackthorn if vampires sparkle in sunlight was a perfectly valid question.”

The last comment caught Zane off guard, his mind instantly flying back to this morning—how Luca’s skin had shimmered in the garden light when he’d fed from him, tiny diamond-like sparkles dancing across his flesh. He’d looked ethereal, enchanting, like something from an ancient fairy tale rather than his shy adopted brother. The memory of his delicate form in his lap, the way the sunlight had caught those sparkles…

Zane straightened his already perfect tie as Ryker pulled up to the entrance. Time to be the alpha his clan needed. Time to focus on treaties and territories and…

Cherry blossoms and moonlight. Lavender eyes wide with confusion. Tiny fangs against his throat…

This was going to be a long meeting.

The grand entrance of Council Hall soared above them, ancient magic thrumming through its marble columns. Morning light streamed through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the marble floor—a subtle reminder of the Blackthorn Clan’s Gothic influence on the building’s architecture.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our favorite wolves,” a familiar voice called out. “Looking sharp as always, Whitlocks.”

Isaiah Kingston pushed away from one of the towering columns, his tanned skin and athletic build showcased perfectly by his tailored suit. Of all the clan leaders, the Kingstons were closest to the Whitlocks—their territories shared the longest border, and their business interests often aligned. Behind him, his younger brother Cameron was already pulling out his phone, probably to show Archer his latest track.

“Isaiah.” Zane nodded, accepting the traditional greeting—a brief clasp of forearms that let both alphas assess the other’s strength. “How’s the new entertainment complex coming along?”

“Would be coming along faster if the Parks would stop trying to build their K-pop academy right next door.” Isaiah grinned. “But you know how it is with territories.”

“Speaking of territories…” Cameron sidled up to Archer, phone in hand. “Wait till you hear this beat. Thinking of dropping it at the next full moon festival.”

“Only if you promise not to let Andre choreograph again.” Archer laughed. “My wolf still hasn’t recovered from last time.”

Their easy banter was interrupted by a sudden drop in temperature. Sebastian Blackthorn, current head of the vampire clan, glided past with Edmund and James. They moved like living shadows, their perfectly pressed suits somehow both modern and reminiscent of Victorian nobility.

“Ah, the Whitlock Clan.” Sebastian’s cultured accent carried just the right note of aristocratic disdain. “I trust we’ll have no… incidents today?”

Before Archer could respond, another voice cut through the tension. “Now, now, Bastian.” Akira Sato materialized beside them, fox magic dancing in his golden eyes. “Surely we can all behave like the centuries-old beings we are?”

The Sato Clan head embodied millennia of kitsune nobility in his formal hakama and silk kimono, the clan’s ancient symbols woven in gold thread across the black silk. His presence commanded attention without effort, and only the nine foxtails shimmering in and out of visibility behind him betrayed his true supernatural nature.

“Some of us are trying,” came a sharp voice from the grand staircase. Young Duke Ming Cheng descended like royalty in his midnight-blue changshan, gold dragons embroidered along its length, his dragon magic crackling around him like a storm waiting to break. The traditional silk robe somehow made him look more modern, not less—a perfect blend of ancient power and contemporary authority. “Though certain wolves make it… challenging.”

Archer actually had the grace to look sheepish. “About that vase?—”

“The Ming Dynasty piece that survived countless wars only to meet its end as a wolf’s hiding spot?” Ming’s perfectly groomed eyebrow arched higher. “The one my grandmother still threatens to turn me into a gecko over?”

“In my defense,” Archer started, but Ryker quickly cut him off with an elbow to the ribs.

Zane watched the interactions with carefully maintained alpha composure, though his wolf was getting restless. Something about being surrounded by so many powerfulsupernatural beings today felt… different. Like the air itself was charged with expectation.

“Honestly,” Ming continued, “I’m still finding wolf fur in the restoration room. Do you know how hard it is to explain that to our archivists?”

“Could be worse,” Akira mused, his foxtails now completely visible and swaying with amusement. “Remember when Archer tried to use that invisibility charm to sneak into the Sato arcade after hours?”

“That wasone time?—”

“You set off every magical alarm in a five-block radius.” Akira grinned. “My sisters still have the security footage. They play it at clan gatherings.”

Sebastian’s lip curled slightly. “How… entertaining. Though perhaps we could discuss more pressing matters? The blood bank regulations, for instance?”

The temperature dropped another few degrees. Trust a vampire to bring business into a perfectly good round of Archer-teasing.

“Ah yes,” Isaiah drawled, throwing a knowing look at Zane. “Blood banks. Territory disputes. Pipeline negotiations. All those fascinating topics that make Archer try to merge with the furniture.”

“I do not?—”

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