CHAPTER 24
JULIAN
She didn’t run.
I’m still gripping the balcony railing, watching Poppy settle back into her lounge chair like she didn’t just face down a century-old predator. Like she didn’t just tell my oldest enemy that his revenge was his own choice. Like she didn’t just choose me—knowing everything, fearing nothing.
The bridesmaids swarm around her. Someone hands her a fresh glass of champagne. Violet says something that makes her laugh—that bright, surprised sound I’ve come to treasure.
She’s laughing. After everything that just happened, she’s laughing.
I’ve watched empires crumble. I’ve seen revolutions rise and fall. I’ve stood in the ashes of everything I thought I knew, and rebuilt from nothing.
None of it prepared me for this woman.
“You’re going to crack the stone if you keep gripping it like that,” Nathaniel observes from behind me.
I look down. He’s right—hairline fractures spider out from beneath my fingers. I release the railing and step back.
“She handled it,” I say. The words feel inadequate. “She more than handled it.”
“She eviscerated him.” Nathaniel is standing next to me. “Told him his revenge didn’t make any sense. That his anger over Katya’s death was his own fault. At a pool party. In a swimsuit.” He shakes his head, something like admiration in his voice. “Where did you find this woman?”
“A dating app.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
He laughs. “The universe has a sense of humor after all.”
“Marcus.” I patch through to him direct. “Are Lucas or Bastine with you?”
“Lucas is. Bastine is stationed outside of Damien’s room.”
“Does Bastine know if Damien is in his room?”
“He should be. I had both Lucas and Bastine escort him there.”
“Got it. Have Lucas take over for you. I’d like to coordinate with the group while Poppy’s at the pool.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“We need to plan for tomorrow,” I tell Nathaniel.
“The reception.”
“If we’re lucky, it won’t come to that. But we need to be ready.”
Before I walk inside, I spot Poppy gesturing animatedly at something, her free hand cutting through the air. She’s telling a story. The bridesmaids are leaning in, captivated.
She draws people to her. It’s her gift—connecting authentically. Even now, surrounded by women she barely knows, she makes them feel seen.
I understand the impulse. She makes me feel seen, too.
“Everyone.” I trigger the group channel. “Marcus is en route to the suite. We’re convening to discuss tomorrow. Elena, Sofia—maintain your positions at the pool.”
“Understood.” Elena’s voice comes through crisp and clear. “The girl is safe. Currently entertaining the bridesmaids with a story about a disastrous cooking attempt.”
“She set fire to pasta once,” I say. “She’s very proud of it.”
“She should be. It takes talent to burn something submerged in water.”
“That it does,” I almost smile. Despite everything,
Sofia’s voice cuts in, colder. “Did Damien return to his room?”
“Yes. Marcus confirmed. He’s not moving.”
“For now,” she agrees. “But he’s planning something. A man doesn’t spend a hundred and forty-six years on revenge to give up after one conversation.”
“No. He doesn’t.” I watch Poppy laugh at something one of the girls says. “Stay alert. I’ll update you once we have a plan.”
The channel closes.
Marcus arrives within minutes, briefcase in hand. He sets up at the desk, pulling out tablets, displays, and a secondary communication hub.
“I’ve been monitoring Damien’s movements since he returned to his room,” he says without preamble. “No calls. No visitors. He’s either sleeping or planning.”
“Vampires don’t sleep,” Nathaniel points out.
“Then he’s planning.” Marcus pulls up the resort layout on his tablet and casts it to the suite’s television. “The reception tomorrow—”
“Hold that thought,” I cut in. “I’m bringing Elena and Sofia into this discussion. Everyone.” I activate the group channel again. “Marcus is going to walk us through tomorrow.”
“We’re listening,” Elena responds.
“The reception tomorrow,” Marcus continues. “Main ballroom. Capacity three hundred, though the guest list is closer to fifty.”
“Exits?” I ask.
“Three. Main entrance here, service corridor here, emergency exit here.” He highlights each point. “Lucas will take the main entrance. Bastine will cover the service corridor. One of our guys in resort security will be on the emergency exit. I’ll be in the security center with eyes on all feeds.”
“And Elena, Sofia, and Nathaniel?”
“Mobile. They circulate through the reception, ready to converge on any position within seconds.” Marcus looks up. “The question is where you’ll be.”
“With Poppy.”
“That limits your tactical options.”
“I don’t care about tactical options. I care about keeping her alive.”
Nathaniel shifts in his seat. “The Council’s position?”
“Unchanged.” Marcus pulls up a message on his tablet. “LaChance was explicit. Any move against Damien without clear provocation will be viewed as aggression. If we strike first, we lose their protection.”
“So we let him come to us,” I say. “Force his hand. Make him the aggressor.”
“And if he doesn’t attack?” Nathaniel asks. “If he just... talks? Reveals what you are without touching anyone?”
“Then I deal with the fallout.”
“You’re willing to be exposed? After two centuries of hiding?”
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
The words settle into the room. Marcus and Nathaniel exchange a glance.
Sofia breaks the silence. “Tell the Council his plans. Send them the audio of him talking to Poppy. Let’s see if they give us authority after they hear that he plans to expose our kind.”
I nod to Marcus. “Do it. Can we can get Nepenthe here in time?”
“You want a witch to help?” Elena sounds offended by my suggestion.
“Yes,” I stress. “Because she might be able to wipe the crowd’s memory?”
“Please tell me we’re not telling the Council that part,” Sofia “I came here to end him, and I don’t want the Council stepping in.”
“No, we won’t tell the Council that part.”
I take a breath. Organize my thoughts.
“Okay, here’s what we know. Damien told Poppy he plans to reveal what I am at the reception. Make her family watch her defend a monster. Force me to choose between exposure or protecting them by leaving.”
“Except she already knows,” Sofia says. “His leverage is gone.”
“Against her, yes. But her family doesn’t know. Her mother, her sister, everyone she loves—they’re still potential targets for psychological damage, if not physical harm.”
“So we position ourselves to respond the moment he escalates,” Elena says. “Standard containment.”
“Yes. But there’s something else.” I pause. Force myself to say the words I’ve been avoiding. “Damien’s endgame isn’t exposure. It never has been.”
Silence on the channel.
“What do you mean?” Nathaniel asks.
“He his pattern. Margaret. Corinne. Anya.” Each name is a weight I’ve carried for decades. “He admitted to being responsible for all their deaths. He doesn’t just want me to suffer. He wants me to lose. Completely. Permanently.”
“He wants her dead,” Sofia says flatly.
“I think this time he wants me to watch her die. That’s different.” I close my eyes. “Exposure is just the opening move. Create chaos. Isolate me from anyone who might help. And then...”
“Then he finishes what he started in Prague,” Elena finishes.
“Yes.”
The channel goes silent.
“He’s patient,” Marcus says. “Methodical. He won’t rush this. He’s had over a century to plan, and he’ll want it to be perfect.”
“Which means the reception is just the beginning,” Nathaniel adds. “Not the end.”
“Unless we end it first.” Sofia’s voice carries an edge. “Force him to escalate beyond what the Council can ignore.”
“How?” I ask.
“Provoke him. Make him lose control. A man nursing that much rage for that long—there has to be a breaking point.”
“And risk him hurting someone in the process? Risk him hurting Poppy?”
“There’s risk either way.” Sofia’s tone is blunt. “The question is which risk you can live with.”
She’s right. I hate that she’s right.
“Does Poppy know? If not, she needs to be informed.” Elena’s voice softens. “All of it. His pattern. The danger. What he’s done to the others.”
“I know.”
“I have to agree,” Sofia states with no emotion. “The bigger question is: Does she truly understand what walking beside you means?”
The question cuts deep.
I think about Margaret—how I told her the truth and watched her break. How she spent her final years in an asylum, terrified of shadows, never knowing that the fire that killed her was set by someone I created.
I think about Corinne—how she saw me feeding and walked into the river. How I spent decades believing my monstrousness drove her to it, never knowing Damien had whispered poison in her ear first.
I think about Anya—how she loved me anyway, knowing everything, choosing me despite the darkness. How Damien arranged her body on my bed like a gift.
Three women. Three deaths. All of them connected to me.
And now Poppy.
“She knows I’m dangerous,” I say slowly. “She knows what I am. But she doesn’t know the full scope of what loving me has cost others.”
“Then tell her,” Elena says. “Before tomorrow. She deserves to choose with all the information.”
“And if she chooses to leave?”
“Then she leaves with her life.” Elena’s voice is gentle but firm. “Better that than staying out of ignorance and dying for it.”
I don’t respond. Can’t respond. The thought of Poppy walking away—of watching her choose safety over me—hurts in a way I’ve never felt before.
But Elena’s right. They’re all right.
Poppy made her choice today, facing Damien at the pool. But she made it without knowing about Margaret. Without knowing about Corinne. Without knowing about Anya.
She chose love over fear. But she didn’t know the full cost of loving me.
“I’ll tell her,” I say finally. “Tonight. Everything.”
“Good.” Sofia’s voice carries something almost like approval. “She’s earned that much.”