Chapter 15
The mansion was quiet, too quiet for my liking. The kind of quiet that felt like it was waiting.
I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on my knees, watching the slow rise and fall of Runa’s breathing as she slept.
Her skin was still pale, too pale for my peace of mind, the faint traces of exhaustion shadowing beneath her eyes.
The bond between us pulsed faintly, a rhythmic whisper in my chest that should’ve calmed me. It didn’t.
I’d fought demons, burned empires, faced death a thousand times over without flinching, but the sound of her heartbeat faltering for even a second had me unravelling.
Every instinct in me screamed to keep her close, to lock every door, to tear apart the world until there wasn’t a single threat left standing.
But I couldn’t do that. Not without losing the war outside.
The war Caesar had brought to our doorstep.
I stood, pacing to the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to see the shadows crawling along the tree line. The guards patrolled in pairs, their movements sharp, precise. My men knew what was at stake. Still, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
Behind me, Runa stirred, murmuring something soft in her sleep. The sound hit me like a knife, she is so fragile, so human.
I turned, my chest tightening.
She shifted, her golden hair spilling across the pillow like liquid light. Even in sleep, she looked fierce, defiant. She didn’t belong in this world of blood and monsters, but she’d walked straight into it anyway. And now she was bound to me by more than just instinct.
By choice. By bond, by the madness that tied my soul to hers. There was a light knock on the door, which has me moving towards it before it wakes Runa up. The door creaked softly before I step out.
“Still awake?”
Roman’s voice carried through the low light. He stood before me, broad shoulders filling the frame, his usual calmness muted by the steel in his gaze.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I muttered.
Roman takes a step back and leans against the wall opposite me. “You’re not the only one. None of us have.”
He lifts his hand to rub across his face, his presence grounding like a storm that had learned patience. “Draugr’s downstairs with Viking, reviewing the attack again. Lucien’s been digging through every contact we have for Caesar. So far, nothing.”
“Nothing,” I repeated bitterly. “That’s not good enough.”
Roman gave a humourless smile. “No it’s not.”
“I sound like a man who almost lost his mate.”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded slowly. “She’s strong. More than you think. You’ll drive yourself insane if you keep expecting to fail her.”
“She got sick,” I said flatly. “She’s been in danger since the moment she met me. And I…”
“Would die before you let it happen again,” Roman finished for me. “I know. I’ve been there. We all have. But listen to me, Volken…”
He stepped closer, his tone firm. “You can’t fight every war at once. Keep her safe, yes. But don’t let that turn into a cage. She’ll start fighting you before she fights the enemy.”
A low growl escaped before I could stop it. “I don’t care if she hates me, Roman. As long as she’s breathing.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You think Layla didn’t say the same thing to me?”
That gave me pause.
Roman sighed, raking a hand through his dark hair. “You’ll learn. The more you love them, the harder it is to hold them, but the harder it is to let them go, too. You can’t win both. So, pick the one that keeps her alive.”
I looked back at Runa, the lump in my throat thick and immovable. “Alive,” I whispered. “Always.”
A silence settled between us, thick but not uncomfortable. The kind that only existed between brothers who had seen too much, survived too much, and still kept moving forward.
Roman clapped a hand on my shoulder before turning. “We meet in an hour. Viking thinks he’s found a lead on Caesar’s new supplier, someone funnelling silver and weapons through the country. If it’s true, we move at nightfall.”
“Good,” I said. “I need something to kill.”
Roman’s mouth curved faintly, not a smile, but close enough. “Try not to bring the city down with you.”
When he left, the silence returned, thicker now. I turned back to enter the room and be with Runa, her body curled slightly toward where I’d been sitting.
I sank to one knee beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“You’re safe,” I murmured. “As long as I breathe, you’re safe.”
Her lips parted slightly, her voice a sleepy whisper. “You’re talking to me again, aren’t you?”
I froze.
Her eyes opened…hazy, soft, glowing faintly in the moonlight. “You never stop,” she mumbled, a faint smile tugging her lips. “You always talk when you think I can’t hear you.”
Caught. A rare smile cracked through my tension. “Maybe I like the sound of my own voice.”
“Maybe,” she teased, half-asleep, “you’re just scared.” That hit too close to home.
I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You have no idea.”
Her hand reached out blindly, finding my wrist. “Don’t go.”
“I have to,” I whispered. “Just for a while.” Her fingers tightened, fragile but fierce. “Then come back.”
“I always do.”
She didn’t reply, already fading back into sleep, her hand still gripping mine. I stayed there until her breathing deepened again, the storm in my chest easing with every exhale.
Then I stood, leaving her wrapped in the dim light, my vow burning in my blood.
Caesar wanted a war. He’d get one, but not before I made damn sure that when the world burned, Runa would still be standing in the ashes beside me.
The door closed softly behind me, and the quiet of my room gave way to the echoing tension that hung heavy over the mansion. The corridors were lined with men, our guards, changelings, vampires that were all wearing the same grim expression. They knew what tonight meant.
It wasn’t a hunt anymore. It was retaliation.
The moment I stepped into the war room, the energy shifted.
Every one of my brothers was already there.
Roman stood at the head of the table, posture rigid, his jaw tight with control, he was barely holding onto his control.
Lucien had maps and files spread in front of him, methodical even in the chaos.
Draugr loomed near the window like a wall of stone, his arms crossed, his eyes dark and unreadable.
Viking, restless as always, was pacing behind the table, his expression a storm waiting to break.
The massive oak table that once symbolized unity now looked like an altar for blood.
“About time,” Viking muttered as I walked in. “Thought maybe your mate talked some sense into you and you decided to stay home.”
I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut. “Keep talking, and I’ll rip that grin off your face.”
He smirked, unbothered. “There he is. I was starting to miss that charming personality of yours.”
“Enough,” Roman snapped, his voice a whip of authority that silenced the room immediately. “We’re not here to trade insults.”
Viking muttered something under his breath, but stopped pacing.
Roman’s gaze cut to me, steel meeting steel. “You’ve seen the latest report?”
I nodded. “Caesar’s been moving. He’s not hiding anymore.”
Lucien slid a folder across the table toward me, his expression grim. “He’s set up operations in the old dockyard district. We intercepted communication from one of his handlers. He’s running product through the same channels the demons use.”
“Product?” I frowned.
“Bodies,” Draugr said, his deep voice like thunder. “Half of them human. Half changelings. Some already infected with demon venom.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides. “So, he’s working directly with them now.”
“Looks that way,” Lucien confirmed. “He’s offering human and changeling vessels to the demons in exchange for access to their black-market trade routes. Arms. Blood. Power.”
Viking slammed his hand against the table. “He’s a fucking Dragic. Our blood. How dare he…”
Roman cut him off. “He stopped being one of us the day he sold out our kind for coin and cowardice.”
The fury in the room crackled like lightning. The air itself felt heavy, dense with something primal.
I leaned forward, my voice low, even. “So, we end it tomorrow night.”
Roman’s gaze flicked to me. “You’re suggesting we move without confirmation of his full network?”
“I’m suggesting,” I growled, “that every day we wait, he kills more of our people. He sends demons into our cities, poisons our allies, and we wait? No. Tomorrow, we go. We end this before he can strike again.”
Draugr nodded once, slow and deliberate. “He’s right.”
Lucien looked between us, jaw tightening. “If we do this, we do it clean. We hit hard, no warning. We can’t afford another trap.”
“I’ll take point,” I said immediately.
“No.” Roman’s voice cut through mine like a blade.
My head snapped toward him. “You don’t get to pull rank on this one, brother.”
His eyes narrowed. “I do when your mate’s inside this mansion counting on you to come home.”
That hit harder than any punch could’ve.
For a moment, the room went silent. The tension stretched taut, an invisible thread between fury and restraint.
Lucien broke it first, his tone calm but sharp. “Roman’s right. You’re too close to this. Caesar will use that. You’re unpredictable when it comes to her.”
I slammed my hand down on the table hard enough to splinter the wood. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t fucking know what’s at stake? That woman is my life, and that traitor, our uncle, nearly took her from me!”
Roman didn’t flinch. He stepped closer, voice dropping to a deadly calm. “Then think like a Dragic, not a man in love. You go in first, you put everyone at risk. Caesar’s expecting you to lead the charge. He’ll be waiting.”
The words tore at me because they were true. But that didn’t make them easier to swallow.
Draugr, ever the voice of reason, rumbled quietly, “We’ll move as one. No one breaks formation. We take Caesar alive if we can, he’s the key to understanding how deep this demon alliance runs.”