The night hung heavy over the forest, cloaked in crimson twilight as the air thickened with menace. A guttural growl sliced through the silence, followed by the sound of snapping branches. Elias was no longer merely the composed, brooding heir of the vampire mafia—he was primal, fangs bared, his pupils slitted with bloodlust. Every step he took left the earth scorched with energy that seethed and burned.
Kael's breath hitched in pain as he stumbled to the base of a tree, clutching his abdomen. His magic pulsed violently in response to the child within him—a resonance that made the air crackle and shift.
But it was not just Kael's presence that drew the rogues.
Three shadowed figures emerged from the mist, eyes gleaming with the feral hunger of corrupted hunters. Kael could sense their intent—pure malice, twisted with blood magic.
"Don't move, witch," the lead hunter spat. "That thing growing inside you—it doesn't belong in this world."
Before Kael could react, one hunter lunged, blade aimed directly at his chest—
—and was intercepted mid-air.
Elias.
The vampire's roar sent tremors through the night. He collided with the hunter, ripping the attacker away from Kael and slamming him into a tree so hard it cracked down the middle. Red mist burst forth as Elias's claws shredded through flesh like parchment.
Kael gasped, caught between awe and horror.
"Elias…"
He turned, eyes glowing ferally, face splattered with blood. "You will not touch what is mine."
Another hunter dashed forward with a silver-tipped whip, aiming to ensnare Elias's arm. The weapon lashed across Elias's chest, tearing through his coat—and skin.
Elias hissed but didn't falter.
Instead, he vanished.
Blink.
And reappeared behind the hunter, whispering, "Wrong move."
The scream that followed was brief.
Kael watched, breathless, as Elias's feral strength annihilated the hunters. He fought like a creature born of rage and obsession—each blow driven not just by survival, but possession, desire, fury.
When the last rogue fell, Elias stood amidst the wreckage of bodies, panting. Blood dripped from his lips, and his shirt clung to his skin, soaked and torn.
Kael, still trembling, tried to rise but faltered. Elias was beside him in a blink, arms cradling him.
"You're hurt," Elias growled softly, inspecting Kael's shaking form.
"I'm fine… the baby…" Kael's voice cracked.
Elias placed a hand on Kael's stomach. His magic surged into Kael, stabilizing the chaotic energy. A moment of silence passed. Then Kael whimpered—not from pain, but from something far more volatile.
The heat was returning.
"You're burning up," Elias muttered, voice gravel. "The bond is reacting."
Kael bit his lip as a pulse of need shot through him. The emotional aftermath, the rush of adrenaline, Elias's touch—it ignited the craving.
"Elias," Kael whispered.
"I know."
He leaned in, lips brushing Kael's throat, his fangs grazing lightly.
"Do you want this?" Elias asked.
Kael grabbed his collar. "I need it."
They kissed, wild and raw. Elias's tongue parted Kael's lips, tasting him as if branding him with each stroke. His hands roamed under Kael's shirt, mapping every tremble and scar. He pulled Kael closer, until there was no air between them, only heat and electricity.
Clothes vanished in flashes of shadow magic. Kael arched into him, crying out as Elias entered him with slow, deliberate dominance. Elias's thrusts were possessive, claiming, as if the act could drive back death itself. Kael met him every time, moaning, writhing, marking Elias's back with his nails.
"Say it," Elias demanded against Kael's lips. "Say you're mine."
Kael cried out, "I'm yours!"
The moment exploded—magic flaring between them, the bond tightening, sealing them deeper. Elias spilled inside him with a low growl, Kael's release following moments later, both trembling with aftershock.
They collapsed together, tangled in sweat, blood, and moonlight. Elias held him tightly, possessively, one hand gently caressing Kael's abdomen.
"He kicked," Kael murmured, eyes fluttering shut.
Elias smiled faintly. "Then he knows. His father will burn down the world for him."
And he meant every word.