Chapter 6
The drawing room had always been a place for business, not sentiment.
It was thick with the scent of cigar smoke, mahogany polish, and old power, it had been the heart of every major decision we’d made for the last hundred years.
The carved table in the centre was older than most countries.
Maps were pinned to the walls, coded ledgers on sideboards.
This was where we discussed wars, business or otherwise.
Tonight, though, I didn’t come just to talk about war, I needed my brothers.
Viking was already there when I stepped in, legs kicked up on one of the high-backed chairs, a glass of vodka spinning lazily in his hand.
He didn’t look up when I entered, he didn’t have to because he felt me.
The five of us had a blood bond similar to the one I have with Layla so that we can find each other if need be which comes with the perks of sensing each other’s feelings.
He looked up at me, eyes gleaming. “Well, well. If it isn’t the dead man walking.”
I arched a brow, “You’ve got two seconds to explain that before I put your head through the table.”
“Relax, brother,” he said, laughing. “It’s not an insult. Just a fact. You're no longer the ruthless bastard with a revolving door between his bed and the underworld. You’re a taken man now. That means you’re officially predictable.”
I sat, “You think the bond makes me weaker?”
“No,” he said, lifting his glass. “It makes you dangerous in a new way. Before, you were cold but efficient and everyone saw you as being untouchable. You’d take what you wanted, fuck who you wanted, and forget their names before your cock went soft.”
I didn’t respond. Because he wasn’t wrong.
“I remember that redhead in Paris,” Viking said, chuckling. “What was her name? Miranda? Michelle? Or was it just ‘get out’?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said flatly. “She was never real to me. None of them were.” I poured a glass of blood wine from the decanter on the bar and dropped into the seat across from him.
He finally looked up and grinned. “You’ve got the look.”
“What look?”
“The claimed look, the can’t-sleep-can’t-think-can’t-breathe-without-her shit look.”
I took a slow sip, “You finished?”
“Nope. Just warming up.” He said with a wink in my direction.
I gave him a cold stare, but he grinned wider. “She’s pretty,” he added. “Green eyes like forest fire, but fragile. The kind that makes a man want to break skulls just for looking too long.”
“She’s not fragile, she just needs to get used to our world” I said, quietly.
“No?” He arched a brow. “She’s human, you plan on keeping her behind iron and fire until her senses catch up?”
“I plan on keeping her alive.” I snap
His grin faded just enough. That was the difference between us, Viking loved chaos while I built empires from it .
Lucien entered next, nodding at me once before taking his seat. His energy was always cold, always steady. If Viking was the spark, Lucien was the steel. The one who trained the soldiers, who kept our army loyal with fear and purpose.
“Where’s Draugr?” I asked.
“On assignment,” Lucien said. “We had another runner near the southern border. He’s cleaning it.”
“You heard?” Viking asked looking at him.
Lucien nodded. “He’s marked.”
“More than marked,” Viking added. “He’s tamed.”
“I’m not tamed,” I argue.
They both looked at me, amused.
“I’m focused.”
Lucien comments from where he’s sitting. “You’ve fucked more women than any of us, you have never slept next to them, never spoke their names, never stayed after.”
“Because they meant nothing.”
“And now?” Lucien asked .
I paused, then looked into my glass like it held something sacred. “Now,” I said slowly, “I remember how she breathed when she came. I remember the first sound she made when I touched her. I remember how she looked at me like she didn’t know whether to run or let herself burn.”
Viking whistled low, amusement in his voice. “Damn. So, this is love?”
“No,” I said. “It’s worse.”
Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“She’s not just under my skin. She’s in my fucking blood. I feel her when I’m not near her. I know when she’s afraid, I can smell her anxiety before she opens her mouth, it’s not love. It’s need, its obsession, and if anything threatens her, I’ll rip open the world.”
Viking leaned forward, smile gone. “Does she know what kind of man you were before her?”
“She’s starting to.”
Viking sipped his drink, thoughtful now. “It’s wild, though. To see you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Different. ”
“I’m still the same,” I said.
“No,” Viking replies. “You’re not. And that’s not a bad thing.”
Lucien tilted his glass toward me. “There are only two ways a male change in this life and that is power or pain. You’ve had enough of both. Now you’ve got something worse.”
“What?”
“Hope.”
I looked down at the mark on my wrist, the faint glow of her sigil, already embedded into my skin.
They were right, I wasn’t who I’d been before Layla, sex was just control.
Violence was a means. I didn’t feel, I took, I ruled, but now…
one girl in sneakers and a too-big T-shirt had flipped that entire kingdom upside down.
And I would build her a throne with the bones of anyone who doubted she deserved it.
Viking leaned back. “So? When do we get to meet our Queen?”
“You’ve already met her,” I said flatly.
“That wasn’t proper, that was ten seconds of me breathing and you damn near taking my head off.” I gave him a warning look .
Lucien chuckled, which was rare.
“You always said the bond was a myth,” he said. “That it was a weakness, that no male should lose himself to one female.”
I grunt in annoyance before answering, “I was wrong.” That silenced the room for a moment, even Viking looked surprised.
“Holy shit,” he muttered. “Roman Dragic just admitted he was wrong.”
“I didn’t lose myself,” I said. “I found something, or someone. I can’t explain it, but she’s in my blood now. And if anyone or anything, ever tries to take her from me, I will burn this world black.” The words came easy, they might be heavy, but they were honest.
Lucien nodded once, “Then she’s family.” That was all he needed to say.
Viking raised his glass. “To the queen, hope she’s ready for this madness.”
“She’s not,” I reply, finishing my drink. “But she will be, she’ll be where I am. And if anyone disrespects her, they answer to me.”
The teasing vanished. Viking went serious just like that. “You’ve got my blade if it comes to that. ”
“And mine,” Lucien added.
I looked at them both, my brothers, my blood. We had faced armies, fought demons. Built kingdoms out of nothing, but this, Layla was something I couldn’t build or earn. She was given to me by fate. And now she was my most sacred war.
“I don’t expect you to understand it,” I state, “but you will respect it.”
Lucien gave a single nod. Viking clinked his glass to mine.
“She’s yours,” he said. “Which means she’s ours too. Just…maybe keep the door locked next time. Your bond’s loud as hell.”
I growled in irritation at our bond, but he laughed. And for the first time since the world tilted on its axis and handed me a mate, I felt… grounded.
It wasn’t just me the vampire king anymore. I was a taken man, and somehow, that was the most dangerous thing I’d ever been.
The door creaked open again and Volken entered, long coat dusted with ash, a worn leather folder tucked under one arm. He moved like a man who never wasted energy, every step measured and precise .
“Apologies,” he said, though his tone was too neutral to be sincere. “I was finalizing routes for the eastern supply line. Had to reroute a shipment through Varos. Border delays.”
Volken was the brain behind the Mafia’s operations, he was the strategist. He didn’t need brute strength to make a room fall silent.
His mind was a weapon, sharper than any blade we owned.
Where Viking burned and Lucien cut, Volken calculated, he anticipated outcomes, he always plotted five moves ahead while the rest of the world scrambled to keep up.
He closed the door behind him, crossing the room with the same calm efficiency that had won us wars without firing a single bullet.
“Volken,” I said with a nod.
He returned it. “Roman. So…how’s married life treating you?”
I scowled. “It’s not marriage.”
“Feels like it, doesn’t it? Stronger, if anything.” He set the folder down and leaned against the wall. “You won’t just bleed for her, Roman. You’ll end bloodlines for your woman”
“She’s my mate, that’s how it works. ”
He nodded, thoughtful. “And are you sure?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
Viking smirked. “He’s mated, alright. And volatile as hell about it.”
Volken studied me for a long beat, then gave a single nod. “Good, then it’s real. And if it’s real, then she’s under our protection. Unquestioned and absolute.”
Before I could respond, the screen on the far wall flickered to life with a low chime. Draugr’s face filled the frame, pale and unreadable, his voice gravel-deep.
“Status?” I asked.
“Runner neutralized,” he replied. “Southern border secured. There are no survivors and no trace left.”
Draugr was the hand of death in our family. The one who cleaned what others couldn’t, where I ruled and Viking burned and Lucien enforced discipline, Draugr erased problems. No second chances with him and there were no loose ends.
He scanned the room, eyes landing on each of us before settling on me. “I heard. ”
“She’s real,” Viking confirmed, swirling his glass.
Draugr gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Good, about time.”
Before any of us could say more, the drawing room door cracked open once more. This time, it was Layla.
“Roman,” Layla calls, soft but clear. Her voice carried, even though she clearly didn’t mean it to. She stood just inside the threshold, fingers laced in front of her, eyes moving from one brother to the next like she was stepping into a room full of predators, and she wasn’t wrong.
All four of us turned. Viking’s grin softened, “She’s braver than she looks,” he muttered.
Lucien inclined his head in a silent nod. Volken, always the observer, tilted his head slightly. He studied her like a new variable had just entered the equation. Then, surprisingly, he offered the barest smile.
I stood from my chair and walked toward her, placing a hand lightly on the small of her back.
“She’s with me, now and forever” I said simply.
That was all they needed to hear .
And that was all it took for them to accept her, not as soldiers, not as killers, but as brothers. As family.