Chapter 4
Alexander
“Fuck!” Alexander roared as he appeared inside the cave near his home, the sound of his voice echoing all around him in the cavernous space, raw and unhinged.
The fucking werewolf was driving him insane, pushing him to the brink.
He didn’t know whether he wanted to fight him or bite him. And the worst part…his scent.
It made Alexander ravenous.
He could barely focus on courting his bride with the werewolf standing across the clearing, the night breeze lifting his delicious scent and delivering it to him again and again. Like Boaz was mocking him somehow.
Alexander knew it was ridiculous to think that.
Boaz had barely even looked at him. If anything, the werewolf had made it painfully clear that Alexander and his vampires were not welcome in his pack.
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Alexander snarled, his voice rising again as he paced the uneven stone floor like a caged animal.
Cold mountain air filled his lungs as he dragged in a deep breath, trying to wrestle down the storm raging inside him. Rage and hunger twisted together inside his stomach like a coiled serpent ready to tear him apart from the inside if he didn’t give in.
With a growl, Alexander spun toward the cave wall and slashed his claws across it, rending four deep grooves in the stone as if it were nothing. Sparks spat outward where his claws struck, and faint wisps of smoke curled from the jagged cuts.
Alexander froze.
Slowly, he lifted his hand away from the wall, staring at the damage in stunned disbelief.
A sharp gasp shattered the silence.
Alexander jerked toward the sound.
Blade stood several feet away. His hands were pressed over his mouth, his eyes wide with horror as he stared at the claw marks gouged into the stone.
“Blade…” Alexander took a cautious step toward him.
Blade immediately shook his head, backing away another half-step. “You’re still sick,” he said, his voice trembling.
“No. I'm fine,” Alexander said softly. “Come here. I missed you so much.”
Blade shook his head.
“Come on. Don’t break my heart,” Alexander said, his voice teasing.
“I promise, I’m fine.” He gestured toward the marks carved deep into the cave wall with a careless shrug.
“This is nothing… I could do that even before the war.” The lie came easily, even though he was freaked out by what he’d done.
“I’m a born vampire, remember? We have many talents. ”
Blade hesitated. Then, he took a tentative step forward, his bright green eyes wide as they scanned Alexander from head to toe.
He studied him carefully, as if expecting something monstrous to reveal itself at any moment.
“Your skin looks fine,” Blade murmured, leaning closer. “I don’t see the black veins.”
“I told you,” Alexander said gently. “I’m fine.”
He forced himself to smile, trying to look relaxed.
As always, Blade looked impossibly put together. He wore a crisp white shirt that draped neatly over his slender frame, tucked into sleek black slacks. Polished black boots completed the look.
His long black hair was slicked back and tied neatly into a ponytail, though one loose strand fell forward, framing his delicate face.
He looked poised, yet fragile in a way that pulled on Alexander’s protective instincts.
Blade moved closer, his gaze still roaming over Alexander as though checking every inch of him.
When he was finally within reach, Alexander grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug.
“Hey, kid,” he murmured into his hair. The grief he had been holding back since he woke surged forward with vengeance, squeezing painfully around his heart. “I failed,” Alexander said, his voice rough. “I lost him. Drago is gone.”
Blade stiffened in his arms.
“I know,” Blade whispered. “It’s all my fault. I should have seen it. I should have—”
“No.” Alexander pulled back slightly, gripping Blade’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault.”
Blade looked unconvinced.
“It’s mine,” Alexander continued quietly. “He was trying to save me… and he…” The words refused to come. Alexander sniffed, blinking hard as tears burned at the back of his eyes.
He was dangerously close to losing it. He shoved the grief down, refusing to give in. He had to be strong for all of them.
“I guess I should wake up Mom and Dad, and tell them what happened,” Alexander said as he pulled away from the hug. He ran a hand through his hair, already dreading the conversation. “I don’t know how I’m going to do that. No parent should wake up to bad news.”
Blade sniffed softly, lowering his head.
Alexander reached forward and gently lifted Blade’s chin with a finger. “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t blame yourself.” Blade’s wet eyes met his. “We went there knowing what might happen.”
“I know,” he said with a wobbly smile.
Alexander grasped his hand and began guiding him toward the entrance. They stepped out into the cold night. Below them, the towering silhouette of the castle rose from the mountainside, immediately drawing Alexander’s eyes. The sight still managed to take his breath away.
Alexander’s breath curled in white clouds in front of him as they started down the path.
After a moment, he glanced back at Blade.
“Do you want to hear some good news?” he asked.
“Yes,” Blade said, carefully stepping over a fallen log half-buried beneath the snow.
The narrow path was almost impossible to walk on this time of year. Thick snow had swallowed the trail, and frost clung to the branches overhead, turning the forest into a glittering white paradise.
They could have simply appeared inside the castle in the blink of an eye.
But Alexander had chosen to walk.
He needed the air.
The cold mountain wind filled his lungs as they moved down the slope, carrying with it the familiar scent of pine trees and the faint sweetness of stubborn wildflowers that somehow managed to bloom even in the brutal cold.
God… he had missed this place.
“I found her,” he said after a moment.
“You did?” he gasped, excitement lighting up his face. His green eyes glowed brightly in the darkness.
“Yes.”
Blade slowed to a stop, suddenly looking Alexander up and down. His nose wrinkled. “Dressed like that?” he asked, his lips pulling in disgust.
Alexander glanced down at himself and burst into laughter. “Yes,” he admitted.
Blade groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “You should have come back and changed your clothes!” he said, sounding personally offended. “You need to make a good impression. Just because she’s your bride doesn’t mean she’s going to just accept you. You actually have to try.”
Alexander chuckled softly.
“I will,” he said. “I just… couldn’t wait to meet her.”
Blade looked at him curiously.
“I’ve been dreaming about her while I was asleep,” Alexander said. “I couldn’t leave without seeing her.”
There had been another reason too. Hunger.
A deep, gnawing hunger that had clawed at his insides the moment he woke up. But he would never tell Blade that. Some things were better left buried. As far as he was concerned, it was already forgotten.
He would never feed from Boaz again. Ever.
“Tell me about her,” Blade said eagerly, practically bouncing beside him as they continued down the snowy path. His excitement was contagious. “Is she beautiful?”
“She’s very beautiful, lively and…” Alexander began, then trailed off as he searched for something more to say. But nothing came. All he had were fragments of the dreams he’d had of her while he slept, cocooned in Boaz’s scent.
Alexander frowned slightly, disturbed by the thought.
He had spoken to Lyla. Touched her hand.
Looked into her eyes. She had even been kind to him—wary, but still polite.
And yet nothing from that interaction had stayed with him.
Because the entire time he’d been standing there, he’d been trying not to notice the werewolf across the clearing. Trying not to breathe in his scent.
“You spoke to her?” Blade asked eagerly, pulling Alexander from his thoughts. “I want to meet her.”
“Not yet,” Alexander said quickly. “I’ve only just met her. I’m still trying to win her over.”
The path ahead grew rough and treacherous, littered with fallen trees that forced them to climb, and weave their way through.
Alexander stopped, then turned to Blade.
“I’ll see you inside,” he said.
Before Blade could respond, Alexander vanished.
One moment he stood on the mountainside, the next he appeared in the grand foyer of Blanc Castle at the base of the mountain.
Home.
Tall stone columns rose toward the vaulted ceiling, and soft golden light spilled from chandeliers overhead, glinting across marble floors.
Alexander began climbing the wide staircase that curved toward the second floor.
As he walked, a smile slowly pulled at his lips, drawn out by the hum of voices and the steady thump of music drifting through the halls.
It sounded as though the celebration hadn’t ended, his vampires were still reveling in his return.
Their laughter and chatter spilling into the hallway, filling the space with warmth.
Blade suddenly appeared beside him. His dark hair was windblown, and his eyes were bright with excitement.
“Did you go to the spires?” Alexander asked, glancing sideways at him.
Blade had always loved climbing up there to watch the snow fall over the mountains. Every time he came back, he looked the same way—bright-eyed and happy, like a child.
Alexander chuckled softly and threw an arm around his shoulders.
Leaning down, he brushed his nose playfully against Blade’s cold cheek the same way he used to when Blade was small.
“Oh stop,” Blade protested immediately, laughing as he shoved him away. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”
“You’ll always be a little kid to me,” Alexander said with a chuckle, pulling him into another quick hug.
Blade squirmed out of his arms.
His laughter echoed down the long hallway as he darted away. Alexander stood there watching him go, warmth spreading through his chest, grateful to be alive.
“Come back here,” Alexander called after him playfully.
Blade stopped halfway down the hallway and turned, straightening dramatically before giving him an exaggerated bow.
“Goodnight, Your Majesty,” he said with mock formality. “I’ll send someone to take care of you.”
Then he turned and disappeared around the corner.
Alexander shook his head with a laugh before continuing down the hall toward his chambers.
A while later, after a long soak in the bath, the tightness in Alexander’s muscles finally began to loosen.
Now he sat in a large recliner near the window, wrapped in a thick, fluffy robe, finally feeling like himself since waking up.
Across the room, a young vampire named Slove—someone Blade had sent to assist him—moved around quietly, adjusting objects Alexander had never seen before.
He was currently setting up a strange flat box he had called a television. According to him, it would help him “acclimate.”
Slove pressed something, and the dark screen suddenly flared to life with a bright light.
Alexander leaned forward immediately.
Images began moving across the surface—people walking, speaking, riding in fascinating metal contraptions that roared across wide roads.
Alexander leaned closer, completely captivated.
“There are books here as well, if you prefer reading,” Slove said politely, gesturing toward a neat stack placed on a small table nearby.
Alexander barely glanced at them. He sank deeper into the recliner, eyes glued to the glowing screen.
“I’ll cut your hair now,” Slove said softly.
Alexander gave a small nod.
Behind him, Slove worked quietly, the soft rasp of a comb sliding through Alexander’s damp hair filling the room as he trimmed the dark strands. Loose locks fell silently to the marble floor.
Alexander closed his eyes, the steady rhythm of the grooming lulling him.
A while later, Slove stepped back. He gathered the fallen strands of dark hair from the floor and straightened the things he had laid out earlier. When everything was neat again, he turned to Alexander.
“I'm done,” he said, bowing his head. “I’ll take my leave now. Have a good rest, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you,” Alexander replied absently, his body languid and relaxed.