CHAPTER 161
CHAPTER 161
SELENE
“I can’t fucking believe my life has come to this,” Roxy complained, dragging another rogue by the ankle.
"Hundreds of years of survival, countless battles, three near-death experiences, and somehow I've ended up camping outside a vampire-hating witch's cottage while cleaning dead vampires off her lawn.”
Roxy dragged the body another few feet before throwing a hand into the air.
“Do you know how insane this is? We just fought for our lives, and now we're basically supernatural janitors cleaning up after the Wicked Witch of the Woods.”
“I heard that.” Morgana replied without even bothering looking up from her tea.
“Less complaining. More scrubbing. You've missed blood by the fence.”
“Bitch,” Roxy muttered under her breath.
“I heard that too.”
“See?” Roxy threw her hands up.
“This is exactly what I mean. It's like living with an angry surveillance system.”
“Keep talking and I’ll turn your voice into a donkey's bray.”
Roxy muttered something under her breath.
“What was that?” Morgana asked sweetly.
“Nothing.”
“That's what I thought.”
Roxy sighed dramatically and looked down at her boots.
Then she froze.
“Oh, you've got to be kidding me.”
She lifted one foot.
The expensive black leather was covered in blood.
“NO.”
Her voice echoed through the clearing.
“Absolutely not.”
She pointed accusingly at Darius.
“These boots cost a fucking fortune.”
Darius didn't even look up.
“Then perhaps don't walk through corpses.”
“That is not the point.”
“It seems like exactly the point.”
“The point,” she said, jabbing a finger at him, “is that you owe me a new pair.”
“You have a hundred and fifty pairs.”
“I have a hundred forty-eight.”
Xander snorted.
“You counted?”
“Of course I counted.”
“That's somehow worse.”
Roxy ignored him.
“These were imported.”
“From where?” Xander asked.
“Paris.”
“You flew to Paris for boots?”
“I have standards.”
“You have problems.”
“I will stab you with this corpse.”
“Please do,” Xander replied.
“At least then I won't have to listen to you cry about footwear.”
Roxy gasped dramatically.
“Darius, did you hear that?”
Darius didn't even look up from the body he was dragging.
“Unfortunately.”
“He's bullying me.”
“Good.”
Roxy stopped.
“Good?”
“Maybe if enough people bully you, you'll finally shut up for five minutes.”
She placed a hand over her heart.
“That was hurtful.”
“That was honest.”
“Wow. You’re both horrible friends.”
“Yet here you are,” Xander said, dragging another body past her without even slowing down.
Roxy opened her mouth again, ready to launch into another complaint—
“I suggest you all stop talking,” Morgana cut in smoothly from the porch.
“Finish cleaning before sunrise,” she added, voice calm but edged with something sharper underneath, “and I might only charge you for emotional damages.”
Roxy pointed at her.
“See? She's the real villain here.”
“Keep talking,” Morgana said pleasantly,
“and I'll charge extra.”
Roxy let out a long, suffering sigh and looked down at her ruined boots again.
“No one cares about my boots,” she muttered, dragging a hand through her hair. “I could be emotionally destroyed, financially ruined, and spiritually traumatised, and everyone would still be like ‘Roxy, move that corpse.’”
Xander tossed another body onto the pile.
“You’re dramatic.”
“I am not dramatic.”
Darius didn’t even look up.
“You are absolutely dramatic.”
Roxy pointed at him.
“You’re worse than the witch.”
Morgana lifted an eyebrow from the porch.
“I heard that.”
Roxy froze.
“…Of course you did.”
\------------------------------------------
Bodies were moved.
Blood was cleaned.
Roxy complained.
Morgana criticized.
Xander threatened everyone within hearing distance.
And somehow it worked.
By the time we were almost through the cleanup, the tension from the fight had eased just enough for everyone to breathe again.
Almost everyone.
Darius never relaxed.
Not even for a second.
He stayed close enough that some part of him was always touching me.
A hand on my waist.
My wrist.
The small of my back.
Whenever I moved, he moved.
Whenever I glanced up, his eyes were already scanning the woods.
The attack was over.
Eron's rogues were dead.
But Darius wasn't convinced the danger had passed.
Honestly?
Neither was I.
By the time the final corpse had been burned and the last streak of blood scrubbed from the grass, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones.
My muscles ached.
My magic felt drained and strangely alive at the same time.
I should have been ready to collapse.
Instead I found myself buzzing with adrenaline.
I had fought.
I had helped.
I had survived.
A few seconds later, shadows detached themselves from the trees.
Vampires emerged from the woods so silently it made my skin prickle.
One.
Then three.
Then several more.
Elite guards.
Every one of them looked deadly.
Every one of them looked ready to kill on command.
They moved without speaking, spreading out around the cottage perimeter with practiced precision.
Darius's gaze swept across them.
“Stay alert,” he ordered.
“Anything moves that isn't one of us, end it.”
No hesitation.
No questions.
The guards bowed.
A heartbeat later they disappeared back into the darkness.
Like they had never been there at all.
I watched Darius as he stared into the trees long after they were gone.
His jaw was tight.
His shoulders rigid.
Every instinct he possessed was still hunting.
Still waiting.
Still preparing for the next attack.
My chest tightened.
Even now, after everything, he couldn't let himself rest.
And maybe that was the burden of being Darius.
Prince.
Leader.
Protector.
Everyone else got to breathe once the battle ended.
He never did.
\--------------------------------------------
As soon as we made it back to the cave, I passed out.
Yeah.
I know.
Real seductive.
The man promises me a passionate night of finishing what we started, and I immediately face-plant into the furs like a exhausted toddler after a sugar crash.
The combination of exploding a vampire with raw fae power and then spending hours scrubbing rogue spleen off Morgana’s lawn had clearly taken its toll. My body decided “horizontal” was more important than “horny.”
When I woke up, the setting sun was slicing through the cave entrance in warm orange blades, painting the walls in soft gold and shadow.
I squinted, groggy and disoriented, then rolled over to find Darius watching me with that quiet, intense look that always made my stomach flip.
“You’re up.”
I stretched, groaning as my muscles protested.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I complained, rubbing my eyes.
“We had plans. Very important, very naked plans.”
He chuckled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face.
“You were sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I think that power I used and mopping up vampire corpse blood took a toll on me,” I said dryly.
“Who knew exploding rogues into glittery ash and then playing maid for a cranky witch would be so exhausting? Next time I save your ass, remind me to schedule a nap before the victory sex. My timing is impeccable as always.”
Darius’s chuckle turned into a full laugh, the sound rich and rare enough to make me smile despite my embarrassment.
He pulled me closer, tucking me against his chest. His cool skin felt perfect against my sleep-warm body.
“You were magnificent, though. Reckless, terrifying, and magnificent. Even if it knocked you out cold afterward.”
“Magnificent enough to reschedule those cave plans?” I asked hopefully, crawling over to drape myself across his lap.
I rested my chin on his chest and gave him my best pleading look.
“Because I distinctly remember a promise involving finishing what we started, and I feel like I earned some thorough praise after my heroic debut.”
“You did. And we will. But you needed the rest. Your body is still adjusting to the power waking up. I can wait.”
I fake-pouted.
“That’s very noble and responsible of you. Annoying, but noble.”
"Someone has to be the responsible one when you’re busy exploding enemies and demanding praise for it,” he teased, leaning down to press a slow kiss to my forehead.
“Besides, we still have time. One day until the eclipse. I’d rather have you well-rested and ready than exhausted and cranky.”
“Cranky?” I gasped.
“I am never cranky. I am delightfully spirited.”
“Spirited,” he repeated, clearly amused.
“That’s one word for it.”
I poked his chest.
“Keep it up and I’ll practice my exploding powers on your clothes instead of rogues.”
He caught my hand, bringing it to his lips.
“There she is. My fierce, exploding mate.”
He ran his fingers slowly up and down my spine.
Through the bond I felt the steady thrum of his relief, mixed with that ever-present edge of tension.
Even now, with the sun setting and the guards stationed outside, he wasn’t fully relaxed.
“You missed quite the show while you were unconscious,” he teased.
“Roxy tried to convince Xander to serenade Elara with a ballad she made up on the spot. Something about ‘linen folds and cold dead hearts.’ Xander threatened to throw her into the river. Again.”
“I’m sorry I missed that. Sounds like peak entertainment.”
"More like peak irritation."
Darius’s hand never stopped moving — slow, possessive strokes tracing my back, my hip, my shoulder — like he needed the constant reminder that I was real and safe and still here.
I tilted my head against his chest.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said softly, the words automatic.
“Yeah, and the sky’s pink. Come on, I can feel you through the bond. You’re wound tighter than Morgana’s patience. What’s going on in that ancient, overprotective head of yours?”
Darius exhaled slowly, his hand stilling on my lower back.
For a moment he didn’t answer, just pulled me closer so my leg draped over his.
“I keep replaying it,” he admitted.
“You stepping into the fight. Breaking the shield I put up to keep you safe. That rogue coming at my back and you… exploding him into ash before he could touch me.” His fingers flexed against my skin.
“I’m proud of you. So fucking proud. But every time I close my eyes I see what could have happened if your power hadn’t answered. If you’d been even a second slower. If Eron had sent more…”
He trailed off, jaw tight.
— he couldn’t bear to lose.
I pushed up on one elbow so I could look at him properly.
“Hey. I’m here. I’m whole. And I’m getting stronger. That’s what matters, right?”
His dark eyes met mine, the gold flecks glowing faintly in the low light.
“I know. But it doesn’t stop the fear. You’re my mate, Selene. My light in all this endless night. The idea of anything taking you from me…” He cupped my face, thumb brushing my cheek.
“It makes me want to wrap you in shadows and never let the world touch you again. Even if I know you’d fight me every step of the way.”
I leaned into his touch, smiling softly despite the heavy words.
“Good thing I’m excellent at fighting you. And exploding things that threaten you. We’re a team, remember? Reckless fae sparkplug and her very dramatic, very possessive vampire.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“Reckless is putting it mildly.”
“Pot, kettle,” I teased, leaning down to kiss him lightly.
“Now stop brooding for five minutes and enjoy the fact that your mate is awake, mostly rested, and very interested in finishing what we started before I so rudely passed out.”
His eyes darkened with heat, the tension easing just a fraction as his hand slid lower on my back.
“Is that so?”
“Very so,” I whispered against his mouth.
“Unless you’d rather keep worrying while I go find Roxy and demand more praise for my vampire-zapping skills.”
Darius growled softly — a playful, possessive sound — and rolled us so I was beneath him, his body caging mine in that deliciously overwhelming way.
“Stay,” he murmured, lips brushing mine.
“I’ll give you all the praise you want.”
The bond hummed warmer between us, the fear still there but pushed back for now. We had one day. One fragile, precious day before everything accelerated again.
And for the moment, I intended to make the most of it.
Outside, Roxy’s distant laughter carried on the wind, followed by Xander’s grumbling and Morgana’s sharp retort.
Our strange little family was still bickering, still standing guard, still somehow holding together.
I closed my eyes and let myself sink back into Darius’s arms, the spark inside me quiet but content.