Chapter 24 #2
His perfect mate.
Sometimes fate really did get it right.
Later, after they'd climbed back upstairs and sealed the vault, Muriel made tea while Brandon sorted through his latest acquisition—a box of Wallachian artifacts that recently resurfaced. Among them was Vlad Tepesh’s personally annotated prayer book—he was a devout Orthodox—and several letters between Vlad and Matthias Corvinus.
He’d gotten them for Armand, to thank him for his help.
“I should go back to the cottage at some point to get the rest of my things,” she said, curling up on the couch.
“Want company?” Brandon set down the book he'd been shelving.
“I'd love that. And who knows? You might find something to add to your collection in the hidden chamber.” She paused, staring into her tea. “I should probably decide what to do with it. Sell it, maybe. Or—”
“Or?”
“Or we keep it.” She looked up at him. “As a backup. A safe house. The wards my father taught my mother are still some of the best protection magic around. And it's far enough from Mythic that if we ever needed somewhere to disappear to...”
Brandon understood immediately. Just in case the Consilium found them. In case Silas's cover story didn't hold.
“Good idea,” he said, coming to sit beside her. “We can strengthen the wards even more. Layer my techniques on top of your father's work and turn it into a fortress.”
“And I could keep the gardens going.” Her voice went soft. “Visit regularly. Tend the herbs my mother planted. It was her sanctuary. I'd like to keep it alive.”
“Then it’s settled.” He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “We'll go this weekend. We’ll pack up what you want to bring here and secure what stays there.”
“Thank you.” She leaned against him. “For understanding. For not thinking I'm being paranoid.”
“After what we've been through? Paranoia is just good planning.” He kissed the top of her head. “Besides, I like the idea of you having a place that's connected to your mother. Our relationship doesn't mean you give up pieces of yourself.”
She smiled.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just remembering something Ana said about mating bonds not changing who we are, just creating a better version of ourselves.”
“She’s a wise woman.”
“Speaking of keeping things,” Muriel said, “we should do something to thank everyone who helped with the rescue. The pack, Zarek's team, Ana and Vlane—everyone.”
Brandon smiled. “Vlane's annual masquerade ball is in three weeks.”
“The masquerade ball?” Muriel's eyes widened. “That's a huge deal, isn't it? Jessie mentioned it once. She said it's like the social event of the year in Mythic.”
“It is. Everyone who helped will be there. It would be the perfect opportunity to thank them properly. Publicly.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I've never been to anything like that.”
“Then it's time.” He pulled her closer. “You’re part of this community now. Something tells me if you don’t go, we’ll have the entire SLUT club pounding at the doors.”
Muriel laughed. “Okay,” she said. “Let's do it.”
Brandon adjusted his silver mask in the mirror and tried to remember the last time he'd attended Vlane's masquerade without dreading it.
Usually, the annual event was something to endure—hours of small talk, deflecting questions about why he was still alone, watching couples dance while he talked to others about magical artifacts to pass the time.
This year was different.
This year, he had Muriel.
“I can't believe you talked me into this,” she said from the bedroom, and he turned to find her in the doorway wearing an emerald green gown that made his breath catch.
“You look beautiful,” he said, once he managed to find words again.
She blushed, adjusting her matching mask. “It's so fancy. What if I trip? What if I say something stupid?”
He crossed to her, gently adjusting her mask. “Then I'll catch you. And everyone will think whatever you said was charming because they already love you.”
“You're biased.”
“Extremely.” He kissed her softly, careful not to smudge her lipstick. “But also right. You belong here, Muriel. You belong with me. The rest is just details.”
“Is it any wonder I love you so much?” she murmured.
“Something I ask myself every day,” he said with a grin. “Just one more thing…”
Brandon offered his arm, and she took it. The bond flared between them, creating a shimmering glow.
“Now, we’re ready.”
The Masterson estate blazed with light and music.
“It's like stepping into a fairy tale,” she breathed, staring at the transformed grounds.
“Wait until you see the ballroom.”
He led her inside, watching her face as she took in the soaring ceilings, the glittering chandeliers, the sea of masked guests.
“There's Matt and Jessie,” Muriel said, looking through the crowd.
“Come on,” he said gently. “Let's thank them properly.”
Matt met them halfway across the room, clasping Brandon's shoulder with easy strength. “Hell of a rescue, man. Anytime you need backup, you call.”
“Your pack was incredible,” Brandon said sincerely. “I won't forget it.”
“That's what family does.” Matt's amber eyes were warm behind his wolf-themed mask.
Jessie pulled Muriel into a fierce hug.
“So, was I right?” Jessie asked as she released Muriel. “Is this event over the top or what?”
They moved through the crowd, and Brandon found himself thanking people he'd known for years but never quite connected with.
Zarek and his vampire team, who'd fought with lethal efficiency.
Jason, who'd provided the intelligence that made the rescue possible.
Armand, who'd offered his vast knowledge without hesitation.
For the first time, Brandon felt like he truly belonged.
When it mattered, they'd all shown up.
Kristoff and Tedi swept by, Tedi babbling cheerfully about something or another. Dani and Ryssa announced plans for the next SLUT club meeting. Ana pulled Muriel aside to discuss something that made them both laugh.
Brandon watched it all, feeling Muriel’s magic strong and secure within him. She was integrating into his world—into their world—so naturally it took his breath away.
“She fits,” Jason said, appearing at his elbow with two tumblers of high-quality Scotch. He handed one to Brandon. “Better than I expected, honestly. I thought a sheltered earth witch from Shenandoah might struggle with Mythic's intensity.”
“She's stronger than she looks.”
“She's stronger than she knows.” Jason's dark eyes tracked Muriel across the room. “That's what makes her dangerous. She hasn't realized her full potential yet. When she does—” He smiled. “The Consilium is going to regret ever sending the Collectors after her.”
Pride surged through Brandon. “They already do, I think. If Medraut had reported back what he found—”
“But he didn't. Because you were smart, and Muriel was powerful, and you had an army at your back.” Jason raised his glass. “To unexpected victories.”
“To friends who have your back,” Brandon corrected.
“To friends,” Jason agreed.
They drank, and Brandon felt something settle in his chest. For the first time in decades—maybe in his entire life—he wasn't alone. Wasn't hiding. Wasn't afraid that showing his true self would end in betrayal.
He had Muriel. He had friends who'd proven themselves when it mattered. He had a future that looked nothing like his ancestor's tragic ending.
He had everything.
“Want to get some air?” he murmured to Muriel when she returned to his side.
Her relief flooded through the bond. “Please.”
They slipped through the French doors into the gardens, moving past the torch-lit paths until they found a quiet patio overlooking the grounds. The music was softer here, the laughter distant. Through the windows, Brandon could see the party continuing without them.
Muriel removed her mask, and Brandon did the same, setting them aside. Without the barrier, he could see her face fully. Her skin was flushed from dancing, her eyes bright with happiness, smiling in that way that made his chest ache.
“Thank you,” she said. “For bringing me here. For making me feel like I belong.”
“You do belong.” Brandon pulled her close, marveling at how perfectly she fit against him.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” The words came easily now, no longer weighed down by fear or guilt.
“Forever.”
“Forever,” Brandon agreed, and kissed her.
Behind them, the party continued. Music drifted on the night air. Through the windows, Brandon could see their friends—their family—dancing and laughing and celebrating life.
And here, on this quiet patio under the stars, he made silent promises.
To protect her. To honor the gift of the bond. To never take it—or her—for granted.
Most importantly, to spend the rest of his life loving her.
The Consilium thought the story was over. They thought they'd won.
They were spectacularly wrong.
Their story was just beginning.