Chapter 69

I froze in shock, my eyes fixed on Hadrian as his words echoed in my mind, struggling to grasp their meaning. It seemed I was the only one grappling with this revelation; everyone else instantly lowered their heads in deference.

“What?” I whispered to him, my voice trembling.

“You heard me,” he replied, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t even know what that means,” I murmured, my confusion slipping into frustration.

“Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly, brushing his hand over my hair. “Gareth will teach you everything you need to know.”

I managed a faint smile, though panic was steadily rising within me. The crowd before us radiated reverence, a kind of respect I had never known. A flicker of an unbidden thought crossed my mind: would I have been treated like this if I’d been born a wolf? Bitterness tugged at the corners of my smile, but I quickly pushed the thought away. This wasn’t the time to wallow in speculation. My new, unforeseen position demanded my full attention.

Hadrian took my hand as we stepped into the castle.

This time, it felt different. For the first time, I didn’t feel like a fugitive seeking temporary refuge. Yet, the word “home” felt distant—this place was still a world away from anything I could call my own. My new title may have offered me protection, but I couldn’t shake the sense that it also thrust me into a far more precarious position.

Hadrian led me toward the north wing, with Mr. Larkspur trailing two steps behind us. His grip on my hand remained firm, and I found myself studying him. Was this warmth genuine, or was he playing a role? Did the bond between us, forged when he drank my blood, affect him as profoundly as it did me?

Oberon had once explained the mate-bond to me. He told me that werewolves could resist the bond if they chose, but even rejection came at a price—their souls would forever bear the torment of that decision. I’d envied them then, imagining how romantic it must be to have someone fated to love you. But for wolves like Oberon, who lost their mates, the bond was a source of endless anguish. Even so, it seemed far simpler than the complexities of human relationships—or, worse, the chaos of a human-vampire connection.

We stopped outside Hadrian’s bedroom, but Mr. Larkspur moved ahead, opening the door to the room next to it.

“This will be your chamber from now on,” Hadrian said, gesturing inside.

I stepped in hesitantly, with Hadrian close behind. The space was immense, at least twice the size of my previous quarters. Shelves lined the walls, already stacked with books, enough to rival a small library. A large bed stood at the center, its size both imposing and… suggestive. The thought made my cheeks burn.

My gaze landed on an unusual door on the far wall, and Hadrian noticed.

“That,” he said with a smirk, “is a passage between your room and mine. It was designed that way for the Lady Protector.”

I blinked in disbelief. “Then why am I staying here?”

“Because I want everyone to know how much you matter to me,” he replied smoothly, leaning in to press a light kiss to my forehead.

Suspicion tugged at me, but I couldn’t hold onto it when he looked at me like that. The bond between us felt unshakable, growing stronger each moment.

Hadrian signaled to Mr. Larkspur, who immediately stepped forward.

“I’ll meet with the families of the blood bags alone,” Hadrian said firmly.

“Master, you shouldn’t handle that alone!” Mr. Larkspur objected.

“That’s not your concern,” Hadrian snapped. “Your task is to brief Thalassa on the noble families and their alliances. She’ll accompany me to the gathering tomorrow.”

I stared at him, trying to process his words. “What gathering?” I asked uncertainly.

“Master, you can’t be serious!” Mr. Larkspur’s voice rose. “With all due respect, Ms. Drayton is a human, and no human has ever—”

“Don’t question my decisions about Thalassa,” Hadrian cut him off sharply, his glare enough to silence any further protest.

Even I flinched at his tone, though it was Mr. Larkspur who bore the brunt of it. He turned his eyes to me, and I could feel the weight of his unspoken accusations. My forced smile did little to mask my unease.

“I apologize, Master,” Mr. Larkspur relented, lowering his head. “I will do as you wish.”

“Good,” Hadrian said with a smirk, turning back to me. “I’ll leave you now. Be good and pay attention to everything Gareth tells you.”

I nodded, unsure of what I was agreeing to. With one last amused glance, Hadrian left, leaving me alone with Mr. Larkspur.

We exchanged annoyed looks before he broke the silence.

“Should I begin your lessons now, or…” He eyed my dress disdainfully. “Would you prefer to change into something more suitable first?” His smirk was dripping with sarcasm.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll change first, thank you. And… Gareth, you don’t mind if I call you that, do you?”

“Actually, I—”

“I knew you wouldn’t mind,” I said, flashing a mischievous grin. “You can leave now. See you in thirty minutes. And don’t forget to knock.”

His frustration was palpable, but he bowed slightly before turning to leave.

The moment he was gone, I sighed. My thoughts swirled like a storm. I couldn’t discern which of Hadrian’s words were genuine and which were calculated. His plans remained a mystery, and I hated feeling like a pawn in his schemes. Yet, I owed him my obedience—for saving me from the werewolves, if nothing else.

For now, all I could do was play along.

I spent a few minutes exploring my new chamber, letting its elegance sink in. I had to admit, I loved it. It was bright, spacious, and delicately adorned in a way that made it feel both luxurious and serene. The bathroom quickly became my favorite part—complete with a shower and an enormous bathtub. As soon as I stepped inside, the urge to soak in warm water overwhelmed me.

Without hesitation, I slipped out of the borrowed black dress and lowered myself into the tub. The heat eased the tension in my aching muscles, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I began to relax. My gaze drifted down to my bare skin, noting with mild surprise that the marks from Hadrian’s bite were completely gone. It seemed vampire blood worked wonders—not just in healing but also in erasing any trace of their predatory nature. It made sense, I supposed; secrecy must have been essential to their survival.

I dressed quickly, readying myself for Gareth’s promised lesson on vampire politics. From the desk in my chamber, I grabbed a notebook and pen, determined to take detailed notes. True to his word, Mr. Larkspur knocked on the door exactly thirty minutes later.

“Come in, Gareth,” I said with a teasing smile as he appeared in the doorway.

“Ms. Drayton…” He paused, closing the door behind him before taking a seat at the table in front of me. “May I speak frankly?” he asked, his jaw tight.

“Of course,” I replied, matching his seriousness.

“I don’t like you,” he said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And… that’s it?” I chuckled. “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t like you either. But let me assure you, I have no intention of harming your master.”

He exhaled sharply, visibly irritated. “I know. That’s not the issue. I just want to make it clear—my opinion of you won’t change simply because you’re now a marked blood bag.”

“A marked blood bag…” I repeated with a smirk, testing the term on my tongue.

“Just…” He stood abruptly, his frustration palpable. “Keep this conversation private.”

I understood his meaning immediately. He knew Hadrian wouldn’t take kindly to his comments, and despite his disdain for me, it seemed Gareth had decided to place a small measure of trust in me.

“Don’t worry, Gareth,” I replied, my tone light but firm. “I’m not so petty as to run to the Lord Protector about your honest opinion.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, then exhaled slowly, visibly calming himself. When he spoke again, his voice carried the weight of authority.

“As you may already know, there are only a handful of noble vampire families. The current royal family is the Thornes. King Alaric Thorne, however, is expected to die within the year. He’s been bedridden for over two years now. The King was a friend of the late Lord Protector of Kessler. When Hadrian’s father died, it was King Alaric who supported him in solidifying his position as Lord Protector.

“But now,” Gareth continued, his tone darkening, “Hadrian protects the royal family. With the King weakened, political opponents are circling like vultures.”

As Gareth explained, I couldn’t help but notice how closely vampire politics resembled human monarchy. Bloodlines were vital, but strength was paramount; without it, no lineage could maintain control.

“Alaric has a daughter, Princess Selene,” Gareth continued. “She could inherit the throne, but she’s considered weak—unfit to rule alone. Her father has long pushed for a marriage between her and the Lord Protector of Kessler, hoping to secure their bloodline’s continuation through Hadrian. But from what I’ve observed, Hadrian has little interest in her. He’d rather ensure her safety and comfort as the daughter of a former king than entangle himself in a political union.”

It was clear why Hadrian had gained his reputation as a powerful vampire. Gareth detailed how he had single-handedly annihilated half of Cassius Marwood’s pack in retaliation for their attack on the castle and the murder of his mother. With that vengeance and the King’s support, Hadrian became a prime candidate for the throne. But not everyone was pleased by the prospect of a Kessler as king.

“The Vexleys have opposed the Kesslers for over a thousand years,” Gareth said, his fists clenching as he spoke. “No one even remembers how the feud began, but the hatred remains. For centuries, neither side dared attack outright. Until the Vexleys did. They collaborated with your dear father.”

I froze, my breath catching as Gareth’s words sank in.

“They poisoned Hadrian’s father,” he continued, his voice tight with restrained anger. “And two days later, when the late Lord Protector could no longer fight, they launched a full-scale attack on the castle.”

“But… the Vexleys are dead now, right?” I asked cautiously, though a knot of unease twisted in my stomach. “Is there anyone else who could oppose the Lord Protector of Kessler?”

“Of course,” Gareth said with a cruel chuckle. “Anyone with even a shred of ambition could pose a threat.”

I felt my pulse quicken. “So… there could be someone behind the recent attack on the castle?”

“Without question,” he said grimly.

“And how is Hadrian supposed to secure his place on the throne with so many enemies?” I asked, my nervous laugh betraying my growing anxiety.

Gareth’s expression twisted into a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

“He’ll take the simplest, most effective route,” he said.

“And that is?” I prompted, dread coiling in my chest.

His grin widened, and his voice dropped to a menacing whisper.

“He’ll kill anyone who holds even an ounce of power.”