Rain slicked the marble streets of Virello's underground, a city that pulsed beneath the mortal world like a hidden artery of blood and power. The Crimson Court's stronghold loomed from the cavernous depths, its obsidian towers alive with enchantments, runes glowing faintly in the rain-slick darkness. It had been nearly a year since Elias walked its halls, but the moment he stepped past the threshold, the atmosphere shifted.
"He's back," someone whispered.
Elias strolled in without apology, his tailored coat clinging to him like liquid ink. His crimson eyes gleamed with something dangerous—something newly awakened. He no longer cared for politics or decorum. He'd returned for Kael. For their child.
He passed two guards, both recognizing him, but neither daring to speak. They could smell the kill on him—the scent of scorched blood and demon bone. His aura bled dominance.
At the top of the grand staircase, Valentin, the mafia underboss and ancient vampire seer, leaned against the railing, swirling dark wine in a crystal goblet.
"Well, well," Valentin purred. "The prodigal prince returns. Did you bring chaos, or simply lusty rumors?"
"I brought a reckoning," Elias said, voice a low threat. "Where's the council?"
Valentin arched a brow. "Impatient. Sexy." He took a slow sip. "They're watching. But you'll need more than declarations to keep what you've seeded."
Elias leaned in, fangs glinting beneath his smirk. "If they try to take what's mine, I'll paint this palace in their marrow."
Valentin chuckled darkly. "Ah. That Elias."
---
Elsewhere, in a Bloodlit Chamber
Elias stripped off his wet coat and shirt, muscles taut from travel and the surge of recent battles. His skin bore new scars—runes carved by eldritch assassins. He stepped into the hot, red-glowing bath drawn by servants who had not dared to speak to him. Steam curled over his pale, inked flesh.
He leaned back, letting the blood-infused water soak into his skin. As he closed his eyes, a memory burned behind his lids: Kael, panting beneath him, gasping his name, fingers digging into Elias's shoulders as he came undone.
Elias's hand drifted lower.
He grunted as he stroked himself, the slick water aiding the motion. Every pump conjured Kael's scent, Kael's taste. That shy smirk. That needy whimper when Elias bit down on his shoulder.
"Mine," Elias growled.
His climax hit with brutal intensity, water sloshing as he jerked beneath the surface, releasing with a groan that echoed in the stone chamber. For a heartbeat, it felt like Kael was there, pulsing through him, burning in his soul.
He opened his eyes.
Reflected on the surface of the blood bath was the sigil—Kael's sigil—still glowing faintly on Elias's chest. The pact bond hadn't faded.
And Kael… was calling him. Even across distance, time, and silence.
---
Crimson Council Hall
Elias stood barefoot, wearing only black slacks and the scent of blood and fire. The elders surrounded him in a half-circle of stone thrones, each flanked by shadows and spectral advisers.
"You vanished," hissed Lady Seraphine. "You abandoned your oaths."
"I pursued truth," Elias said.
"Yet you return only when the prophecy stirs," sneered Lord Veylor. "A hybrid child, conceived under a broken bond, destined to either unify or destroy the bloodlines. You've endangered us all."
Elias's voice thundered through the chamber. "That child is mine."
"And the bearer?"
A flicker of longing crossed his features. "Kael. I marked him. He belongs to me."
A gasp fluttered through the assembly. Marking a mortal without consent, especially with ancient blood, was nearly unheard of.
"You would claim him?" Seraphine's voice was a whisper now.
"I'll claim them both," Elias said. "Publicly. Permanently."
"You defy the pact laws?"
Elias grinned. "I am the law."
---
Back in Kael's Apartment
Kael stumbled from bed, sweat slick on his skin, the sigil burning across his abdomen. He clutched the edge of the bathroom sink, panting, stomach tight with heat.
His reflection in the mirror showed flushed cheeks, dilated pupils. Another dream. No… more than a dream.
His knees buckled. He slid to the floor, moaning, as phantom touches skated along his skin. Elias. It was always Elias.
His nightshirt pushed up without warning as the bond pulsed to life, as if Elias was there, fucking him with ghostlike precision. Kael's breath hitched.
"Elias," he gasped, head thrown back.
Invisible hands held him open, filled him. He arched, riding the sensation, moaning louder as climax rushed over him like a tidal wave.
He cried out, his orgasm crashing through him, leaving him trembling and marked.
When he could finally open his eyes, he whispered, "Come back to me."
Outside, storm clouds gathered.
Elias was already on his way.