Lior –
The tremor in his hands betrayed everything.
Lior pressed his palms flat against the cold stone wall of the vampire fortress, fighting to regain control. His body still hummed from the encounter in the forest—the clash of blessed steel, the heat of golden eyes burning into his soul, the moment when death had transformed into something infinitely more dangerous.
He should have killed the Alpha. Should have driven his blade through that powerful throat and claimed victory for his clan. Instead, he had hesitated at the crucial moment, paralyzed by the sight of Kael's lips so close to his own. The mate bond had sung between them like a siren's call, drowning out centuries of vampire conditioning.
You taste like home.
The words had spilled from his lips before he could stop them—a confession that revealed far too much. Now they echoed in his mind like a curse, threatening to unravel everything he'd built within the clan hierarchy.
Footsteps echoed across the courtyard's obsidian stones. Lior straightened, forcing his expression into the mask of cold indifference that had served him well among his kind. Vampires could smell fear and weakness like blood in the water—any sign of vulnerability would be exploited ruthlessly.
The council chamber awaited, its vaulted ceiling disappearing into shadows that seemed to writhe with malevolent life. Torches burned with unnatural flames, casting dancing light across pale faces that had witnessed centuries of death and betrayal. The assembled Elders perched on their stone throne like carrion birds, ancient eyes gleaming with barely-contained hunger.
Elder Lucien presided from the central dais, his presence suffocating in its concentrated power. Beside him stood Kaelen, immaculate as always in his tailored darkness, amber eyes tracking Lior's every movement with predatory interest.
"The wolf packs grow increasingly bold," Kaelen announced, his voice carrying easily through the chamber's acoustics. "They patrol deeper into territories that have belonged to our kind for centuries. Their Alpha leads them with arrogance that demands... correction."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the assembled vampires. Some nodded with savage anticipation, others leaned forward with the eager hunger of those who fed on violence as much as blood.
"The time for half-measures has passed," Elder Lucien declared, his words carrying the weight of absolute authority. "We will strike at the heart of their strength, remind them why the night belongs to us."
Lior's stomach clenched with dread as he sensed the trap closing around him.
"And who better to lead this assault," Kaelen continued, his smile sharp as a blade, "than the one who has already tasted the Alpha's blood? Who knows his weaknesses intimately?"
Every gaze in the chamber fixed on Lior like physical weight. He felt exposed, vulnerable, as if his internal conflict was written across his features for all to see. The dormant wolf in his chest stirred restlessly, recognizing the danger to its mate.
"You will command the strike force," Elder Lucien commanded, his ancient voice brooking no argument. "Penetrate their defenses. Find the Alpha in his den. End his life and bring us his head as proof of our supremacy."
The words hit Lior like silver daggers to the chest. Around him, the other vampires radiated anticipation and bloodthirst, eager to see their enemies broken. They expected swift agreement, unquestioning loyalty to the clan that had raised him from a stolen child into a weapon.
Instead, Lior felt his world fracturing along invisible lines. The mate bond thrummed in his veins like poison, making the thought of harming Kael physically painful. Yet refusal meant exposing his treacherous feelings, inviting questions he couldn't answer without revealing the impossible truth.
"The Alpha's den," he repeated slowly, buying time while his mind raced. His voice remained steady despite the chaos in his chest. "His pack will be at full strength. The assault will be costly."
"All victories require sacrifice," Kaelen replied smoothly. "Unless you doubt your ability to complete the task? Perhaps your previous failure has shaken your confidence?"
The challenge hung in the air like a gauntlet thrown. Lior straightened, drawing on every lesson in vampire politics he'd ever learned. Show weakness now, and his rivals would tear him apart like wolves—an irony that didn't escape him.
"I do not fail twice," he declared, injecting steel into his voice. His crimson eyes met Kaelen's amber ones without flinching. "The Alpha will die by my hand."
The lie tasted like ashes on his tongue.
Elder Lucien's smile revealed fangs like ivory needles. "Excellent. You have three nights to plan your assault. Use them wisely."
As the council began to disperse, Lior bowed with practiced precision. Outwardly, he projected the calm confidence expected of a clan warrior. Inwardly, his wolf howled with anguish at the betrayal he was being forced to commit.
The fortress walls suddenly felt like a prison, trapping him between loyalty to his clan and a bond that defied every law of nature. In three nights, he would have to choose between duty and desire, between the family that had raised him and the mate who made him feel whole.
And he had no idea which choice would destroy him more completely.