(Damien's POV)
The battlefield still stank of iron and smoke.
Blood pooled in broken trenches, seeping into the dirt until the ground itself seemed to bleed. The cries of the wounded had faded to silence, but I could still hear them echoing in my skull, ghostly reminders of what my hands had done, of what being a king demanded of me.
Victory should have tasted sweet. My wolves had torn through vampire ranks like a storm of fangs and claws. The black banners of their army lay trampled beneath the mud, their soldiers scattered back into the night.
And yet, standing at the edge of the valley, I felt nothing.
The wind was cold, cutting through my armor, carrying with it the copper tang of spilled blood. My beast stirred restlessly beneath my skin, unsatisfied. Wolves were never content with a retreat; they wanted the chase, the kill, the final tearing of throat and bone.
"Your Majesty."
I turned my head at the voice. Kael, my most loyal general, approached with blood splattered across his armor. His eyes glowed faintly gold in the dark, still half in the grip of battle rage. He bowed his head, his voice low but burning with hunger.
"The vampires flee east. Should we pursue? We can crush them completely if we strike now."
A dozen eyes watched me from the shadows, my soldiers waiting, craving the order to unleash themselves fully. One command from me, and the forest would run red.
But I raised a hand, halting them.
"No," I said, my voice sharp and absolute. "Let them run. Tonight we've made our point."
The words left a bitter taste in my mouth. My point. Their fear. My dominance. It was the language of kingship, and I wore it like armor, but inside I was restless. Empty.
Kael's jaw tightened, but he bowed. "As you command."
I dismissed him with a flick of my hand. My soldiers withdrew reluctantly, howls and growls fading into the distance as they returned to camp. The valley grew quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the steady thrum of my pulse.
I should have gone back with them. I should have sat upon my throne of bones and howled my victory to the moon.
Instead, I turned toward the forest.
Each step I took carried me deeper into shadow, away from the blood, away from the eyes of my people. My beast calmed, not because it was satisfied but because it knew where I was going. Who I was going to find.
The trees grew denser, their branches clawing at the sky.
Moonlight spilled between them, silvering the earth and guiding me forward. I moved like a predator, silent, sure, my senses locked on the faint pull in my chest that always led me to him.
To the one I should hate.
The one I could not stay away from.
When I stepped into the clearing, he was there, waiting.
Adrian Duskbane. King of the Vampires. My enemy. My sin.
He stood against the trunk of an ancient oak, his tall frame draped in a cloak as black as midnight. His skin glowed pale under the moon, his beauty sharp and cold like a blade of glass. His crimson eyes met mine, gleaming with that impossible mix of power and restraint.
To the world, he was untouchable. A king who ruled with elegance and merciless precision. To his people, he was fear wrapped in silk.
But I knew better.
"You're late," he said softly, his voice carrying across the clearing like smoke.
I smirked, stepping closer, letting my eyes drink him in. "I was busy slaughtering your men. Forgive me if that delayed me."
His lips pressed into a line, his jaw tightening, but there it was that flicker. That tiny spark in his gaze that betrayed him.
"You shouldn't be here," he murmured. His voice tried to be cold, commanding, but beneath it was something else. Fragile. Trembling. "If either of our clans knew..."
"They don't," I cut him off, closing the distance between us in three strides. My hand slammed against the tree beside his head, caging him in. His scent hit me, smoke, night-blooming flowers, the faint metallic tang of blood. My beast purred.
"And they never will," I whispered against his ear, letting my breath graze his skin. "You belong to me, Adrian."
His body shivered, and just like that, the mask cracked. The cold, regal king melted before me, his crimson gaze softening, his lips parting. To the world he was dominance incarnate. To me, he was this soft, breakable, utterly mine.
"Damien…" he whispered, my name trembling on his lips.
I tilted his chin upward, forcing him to meet my eyes. My thumb brushed across his mouth, lingering on the sharpness of his fangs. Gods, he was beautiful when he unraveled.
"I should kill you," he said, though his hands betrayed him, clutching at the front of my cloak, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
"And yet," I murmured, lowering my lips to hover a breath away from his, "you keep calling me back."
The space between us collapsed.
I kissed him.
It wasn't gentle. It never was. My lips claimed his in a searing crash of hunger and defiance, and he yielded like he always did. His mouth parted for me, his body arching into mine, his cold hands gripping my shoulders with desperate force.
This was the only place he allowed himself to break. Not before his court, not before his generals. Only here, with me, where no eyes could see, no ears could hear.
Our tongues clashed, tasted, devoured. His breath came fast, shallow, every sound a quiet surrender. His back pressed against the tree, mine pinning him there like I'd pin prey.
When I finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his chest rising and falling. Crimson eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide.
"Damien…" he rasped, almost a plea. "This will destroy us both."
"Then let it," I growled, my forehead pressing against his. My hand cupped the side of his neck, feeling the faint flutter of his pulse beneath cold skin. "I'd rather burn the world to ash than let you go."
For a moment, silence swallowed us. The battlefield, the war, the centuries of blood, all of it fell away, leaving only the two of us tangled in the dark.
He closed his eyes, his body softening, surrendering.
And in that moment, with the moonlight crowning us in silver, I realized something brutal and inescapable.
I wasn't just breaking the laws of my people.
I was breaking myself.