86

86
DOMITILLA POV

One Week Later

Happiness. That had to be what I was feeling pure, unfiltered bliss. I woke up tangled in our sheets, naked and warm despite the cool brush of his skin against mine.

Gosto lay behind me, his bare chest pressed to my back. One of his arms served as a pillow beneath my head; the other rested loosely across my waist, possessive even in sleep. Waking up like this… I could live a thousand mornings and never tire of it.

His breath cool, steady whispered over the sensitive curve of my neck, and I shivered all the way down to my core.

“Is my Queen getting aroused?” Gosto purred against my skin.

I bit my lip to silence the sound rising in my throat. “I’m not your Queen. Not yet,” I said, feigning calm, as if his voice wasn’t already setting fire to every inch of me.

He kissed the dip where my neck met my shoulder. “You already wear your crown in my eyes,” he murmured.

“I think I’m hungry.”

His arms wrapped tighter around me, pulling me flush against his body, melting me into him. His teeth grazed my skin, and anticipation curled low in my belly.

“How does it feel?” I asked, voice thin and breathless.

He gave a low chuckle and nipped at my earlobe. “How does what feel?”

“Drinking blood.”

He paused, then shifted to look at me properly, turning me in his arms. “Do you want to try?”

My cheeks flushed. “I barely remember… when Fosco”

“Don’t.” His voice cut sharp, and he pressed a finger to my lips, eyes flashing. Then he softened, clearing his throat. “Don’t ever speak of that. I wanted to rip his heart out for it.”

“I know,” I whispered, silently vowing never to bring up that Fosco had also once kissed me. It didn’t matter. Not anymore. And besides, my King was possessive by nature jealous, territorial. I doubted Fosco cared to gamble with his life.

“Anyway…” I ran my fingers along the hard planes of Gosto’s chest, tracing the definition of his muscles. “I’ve never tasted you,” I admitted, my entire body flushing with the confession.

A slow, wicked smile crept across his lips. He extended a claw and made a shallow incision over his neck, just above the artery. I gasped as thick drops of blood welled to the surface, dark and gleaming like rubies.

“Drink, my Queen,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

My heart thundered. I leaned in, lips brushing his skin, and tasted him. The blood slid down my throat like liquid silk smoky, sweet, richer than anything I’d ever known. It was like drinking moonlight mixed with fire.

“Wow,” I breathed against his neck, and he laughed.

My whole body burned. My pulse quickened, and heat surged through my limbs, rippling like waves in a storm. I couldn’t stop. The more I drank, the more I wanted. The more I needed.

“You like it, don’t you?” he groaned, his hands gliding down my back to grip the curve of my ass. He didn’t wait for my reply he already knew. One hand slipped between my thighs, and he slid inside me with infuriating ease.

“You’re so gloriously wet,” he growled, as I moaned, still drinking from his neck.

He pulled his fingers out only to thrust them back in, again and again, until my body trembled under the weight of need. My mind went blank as pleasure built to a fever pitch. I gave myself over completely, letting him guide me to the edge.

I came hard, back arched, his name torn from my lips.

Before I could catch my breath, he flipped me onto my back, spreading my legs wide as he settled between them. “My turn,” he rasped.

He entered me in one fluid motion and sank his fangs into my neck at the same time.

I screamed. The exquisite agony was too much, a wicked marriage of pain and ecstasy that shattered my senses. He thrust into me with purpose, every motion igniting nerve endings until I felt like I might burn alive.

My nails raked across his back, marking his skin, as he drove me higher. His fangs dug deeper. I felt the sharp tug as more blood left me, and my body responded with another searing climax.

I clenched around him, my walls pulsing as he chased his own release.

A guttural growl escaped him as he came, body taut and trembling. Slowly, he eased off me, chest heaving as he caught his breath. He rested his forehead in the crook of my neck and held me close.

Then he shifted us gently, pulling me against him so my head rested over his heart. “I love you, my Queen,” he murmured. “And I’ll say that for the rest of eternity.”

I let out a soft laugh, but unease crept into my chest. I still didn’t know how long Nephilims lived. Sibilla’s curse lingered in my mind like smoke, and the thought of losing him haunted me more than I could say.



Tomorrow, we would move into the castle.

The renovations had taken time, but Gosto had promised I would love it. He said the castle would feel lighter, full of windows and soft walls kissed with color. I appreciated the effort… but I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave the Santini residence just yet.

Especially the gardens.

Even after what happened the night I met Drystan, the gardens remained a sanctuary a place where I could think, or not think at all.

With everyone scrambling to finalize the preparations for our wedding and coronation, I needed a breath of solitude. I wandered through the hedge maze and eventually settled on a bench, letting my eyes fall shut.

“You’re worrying too much.”

Sibilla’s voice made my eyes snap open.

Her spirit floated toward me in the same white dress as before only this time, no blood stained the fabric. She sat beside me with a serene smile.

“Your presence isn’t exactly comforting,” I said, dryly.

She laughed. “You survived. You saved him. You should be happy.”

“What about your curse?” I asked, wary. “Is it… gone?”

She sighed, her expression tinged with regret. “It was never really a curse.”

I stared at her, stunned. “What?”

“I was a powerful witch,” she said. “But I didn’t have the ability to curse someone like that. Not really. I was angry, bitter. Then I tasted Gosto’s blood and had a vision of his future. I saw him in love.”

She paused, voice trembling slightly.

“Knowing he’d fall for someone else it broke something in me. So I told him it was my curse. I wanted him to believe it. Maybe I thought I could control him that way. But deep down, I knew it was inevitable.”

She looked away, fists clenched. “I didn’t see you bringing him back to life, though.”

I blinked, trying to wrap my head around it. “So you saw his death… and love… and made him think he was cursed because you couldn’t handle it?”

She scratched her head and gave a sheepish laugh. “Petty, I know. I thought I’d feel better if he tried to suppress his heart. But instead, that vision bound me here. Forced me to watch it all unfold.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And now?”

Her smile returned, soft and clear. “Now, I’ve come to say goodbye. My punishment is over. My soul can finally move on.”

She leaned closer, her lips near my ear. “And you don’t have to worry. Nephilims live just as long as pureblooded vampires.”

Relief washed through me like dawn.

I smiled. “Goodbye, Sibilla.”

She laughed gently. “Goodbye, Queen Domitilla.”

Then she vanished and with her, the last of my fear. That might have been the greatest wedding gift she could ever give me.



“Hold still! Just a little more!” Diamante groaned like she was the one being tortured.

“Are you sure you haven’t gained weight?”

“Are you trying to kill me before the coronation?!” I snapped, breathless, as she yanked the bustier tighter.

“Almost there!” she swore, tugging the last strap. “Done!” she declared triumphantly, tying it off with a dramatic flourish.

“You may admire yourself now.”

I turned toward the mirror and gasped.

The dress was nothing short of divine. Silk as light as breath, scattered with delicate crystals that shimmered like starlight.

It hugged my figure in a trumpet silhouette, the bodice dipping into a soft sweetheart neckline. The bustier cinched just enough to feel dangerously seductive. I instantly forgave Diamante for putting me through the agony.

“It’s stunning,” I whispered, twirling slowly.

She smirked. “Wait until you see the cape.”

I blinked. “What cape?”

“A Queen needs a proper entrance,” she replied, eyes gleaming.

I sighed. “Fine. Give me the cape. Let’s finish this.”

Her lips curled in a wicked grin. “I know you’re counting the minutes until Gosto tears that dress off and fucks you stupid, but first things first you’ve got to wear the crown.”

I flushed instantly. He had told me quite seriously that he wanted to make love to me wearing nothing but the crown. I hadn’t figured out how it would stay on, considering his stamina…

“Cape coming in!” Diamante sang, yanking me out of the fantasy.

My breath caught. The cape was exquisite crafted from long silver-white feathers, soft as snowfall, draping around my arms like folded wings.

“Gosto’s idea,” she added, laughing quietly.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, tears stinging my eyes.

“Don’t you dare cry! You’ll wreck the makeup!” she warned, but it was too late. A few joyful tears had already spilled. With a groan, she went to fix her masterpiece before we departed the room.

Ten minutes later, I stepped into the coronation chamber.

Gosto stood at the far end, waiting. He wore a tailored black tuxedo, white shirt, and black tie sharp and utterly devastating. A cape similar to mine draped his shoulders, but his was made of raven-dark feathers. He turned when he heard my steps and the look in his eyes seared me.

“You’re the most perfect Queen the Underworld has ever known,” he whispered, taking my hand.

I bit down on my lip, trying not to cry again. I smiled at him, and together we walked the length of the hall, lined with guests cloaked in shadows and starlight.

Ermes, Fosco, and Diamante stood to the right of the dais. At the center stood Romeo, draped in red with a golden crest upon his chest. For once, the scorn in his expression had vanished replaced by a solemn reverence that almost made me laugh.

The ceremony began, long-winded and ceremonial. Romeo recited lines in languages older than memory, his voice echoing like thunder in a cavern. Time slowed until Ermes and Diamante approached, each holding a velvet pillow. Our crowns rested atop them twisted silver and black roots, shaped like domes, glittering with rows of diamonds.

Romeo lifted the King’s crown first, placing it atop Gosto’s head. Then he crowned me.

“I now declare you King and Queen of the Underworld!” he proclaimed. A roar of cheers broke out, crashing through the room like a tidal wave.

Gosto turned to me with a smile that reached his eyes. He led me up to our twin thrones on the podium, but as I moved to sit, he caught me in his arms and kissed me.

The crowd erupted again.

He didn’t hold back. The kiss was deep, unapologetic, and full of promise. When he finally pulled away, his smile was radiant. His eyes sparkled with something wild and unspoken.

“I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy,” he murmured in my ear.

I laughed softly. “What are you saying, my King?”

He kissed me again, slower this time, and looked straight into me.

“I felt a heartbeat,” he whispered. “It wasn’t yours. It wasn’t mine.”

Time froze.

I blinked. My mouth went dry. “A baby?” I asked, breathless.

He nodded. His lips brushed mine again.

“You’ve given a fallen man his heaven,” he said, reverent. “You are my heaven, my Queen. I will worship you until the end of time.”

Heat bloomed across my face, my chest. And in that moment, I stopped caring who was watching. I kissed him back, fiercely, with everything I had.

He was my heart. My home.

He might be King of the Underworld but he was also the one who’d handed me my light.

Fate had gifted me a love strong enough to survive anything. Even death.

And now, I had no fear left.

Because whatever came next I’d face it, as long as he was beside me.

Holding my hand.

THE END.