CHAPTER 169

CHAPTER 169
SELENE

I raised both hands in surrender and headed for the small kitchen area, still fighting a smile.

The cottage smelled of dried herbs, old wood, and something faintly magical that made the back of my throat tingle.

Jars of strange ingredients lined the shelves. A black kettle sat on a small iron stove that looked older than most of the vampires in the room.

I filled it with water, set it to heat, and started hunting for the jasmine and mint.

Darius followed me without a word, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, watching me like I might vanish if he blinked.

“You’re hovering,” I said without looking up.

“I’m supervising.”

“You’re being possessive.”

“I’m being thorough.”

I glanced sideways at him. “You’re being dramatic.”

A slow smile curved his mouth. “You’re being adorable when you pretend you don’t like it.”

Roxy’s voice floated in from the main room. “If you two start making out over the kettle, I’m leaving. And taking the blood with me.”

“No one is making out over the kettle,” I called back.

“Yet,” Darius murmured, low enough that only I could hear.

I elbowed him lightly in the ribs. He didn’t even pretend it hurt.

The water eventually boiled. I steeped the jasmine with a few leaves of wild mint and a careful drizzle of honey, just the way I liked it.

When it was ready, I poured a cup for Morgana and carried it out.
She accepted it like it was a necessary evil, sniffed it suspiciously, then took a cautious sip.

There was a long pause. “…Acceptable,” she finally said, as if the admission cost her something vital.

Roxy raised her bottle of blood in a mock toast. “To not dying horribly in the near future. Cheers.”

Xander lifted his own bottle with a grunt. Darius clinked his against mine even though I was only holding tea.

For a few strange, almost peaceful minutes, the cottage filled with the low sounds of people who had survived too much and were temporarily pretending the world wasn’t still trying to kill them.

Roxy launched into another exaggerated story about a fight involving a cursed fountain and three very confused dryads.

Xander occasionally corrected her with the long-suffering tone of someone who had been present for the actual events.

Morgana insulted all of us in turn with surgical precision, and Darius kept one hand resting against the small of my back the entire time, as if the bond still needed the constant physical reminder that we were both still here.

I caught him watching me more than once. The gold flecks in his eyes were softer than usual, but the worry never fully left them.

Every time our gazes met, the bond pulsed warmer—steady now, no longer trying to tear us apart, but still new enough that it felt like learning how to breathe with an extra set of lungs.

After a while, Morgana set her empty cup down with a decisive click.

“You’ve had your celebration,” she said. “You’ve drunk your blood. You’ve contaminated my furniture with your presence. Now get out. I have wards to reinforce and a very strong desire to never see any of you again until the next inevitable catastrophe.”

Roxy stood and stretched. “Aww. We’re going to miss you too, you old softie.”

“I will turn your tongue into a snake,” Morgana replied without missing a beat.

“Love you too.”

Xander was already moving toward the door, restless energy rolling off him in waves.

“Yeah..We should head back to the castle soon,” he said, voice low and strained.

“Elara… she’ll be worried. I don’t like leaving her there alone for this long.”

Roxy’s grin was immediate and merciless.
“Aww, look at you. All anxious to get back to your linen lady. You’ve got it bad, big guy. Should I start planning the wedding? ‘Xander and Elara, bound by sheets and fangs.’ Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Xander shot her a glare that could have curdled blood. “Roxy. Shut up.”

Darius’s hand slid up to cup the back of my neck, tilting my face toward his.

He kissed me—slow at first, then deeper, his tongue sweeping against mine with a heat that made my stomach tighten.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was low and rough against my lips.

“Ready to go home, baby?” he murmured. “I need to be inside you ..now thet thr bond has finally fucking settled.”

Before I could answer, Roxy made a loud, gagging noise from across the room.

"Ugh, I’m gonna be sick,” she groaned, wiping imaginary blood from the corner of her mouth even though she’d already finished her bottle.

“Can you two not announce your filthy plans in front of the rest of us? Some of us are still trying to keep our lunch down. Or, you know, our blood. Same difference.

I felt my cheeks flush, but Darius only smirked, completely unrepentant.

His thumb brushed over my lower lip as he looked at me like the rest of the room had ceased to exist.

“Ignore her,” he said quietly. “She’s just jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Roxy snapped. “I’m traumatized. There’s a difference. Keep that energy for the castle, you animals. All this lovey-dovey bullshit is ruining my appetite. Right now it's you two being disgustingly cute, but the second we get back to the castle it's gonna be Xander and Elara making heart-eyes over folded linens. Somebody please shoot me."

Xander, who had been quietly nursing his own bottle, let out a heavy sigh.

The big, battle-hardened vampire looked exhausted in a way I rarely saw—shoulders slightly slumped, eyes fixed on the floor as if the weight of everything had finally settled on him.

“Yeah… I wish,” he muttered. “I don’t even know if she likes me. And I still have to tell her I’m a fucking vampire. Hope she doesn’t run for the hills when she finds out.”

The raw uncertainty in his voice killed the teasing instantly. Even Roxy’s grin faded for a second.

Darius’s arm tightened around my waist, his thumb tracing slow, grounding circles against my hip.

“She’ll be okay,” he said quietly to Xander. “And so will you. The mate bond can’t be denied. Once she feels it… the rest will fall into place. You’ll figure it out.”

Xander gave a short nod, but the worry stayed etched in the lines of his face. Roxy reached over and bumped his shoulder gently, her usual sharp edge softening—until it didn’t.

“Hey,” she said. “If she runs, I’ll chase her down myself and explain that under all that muscle and scowling, you’re actually a giant softie. Mostly. And if that doesn’t work…”

She shrugged, a wicked little smile returning. “We can always just use a bit of compulsion and make her like you. Problem solved. Efficient. Clean. No messy feelings required.”

Xander’s head snapped up, eyes flashing with genuine irritation.

“Don’t even fucking joke about that. She’s my mate. I’m not forcing anything on her. If she runs, she runs. I’ll deal with it like a man, not like some manipulative bastard.”

Roxy opened her mouth, clearly ready with another smart remark—

“Roxy,” Darius cut in, voice sharp. “For fuck’s sake, can you not be serious for even one second?”

She started to retort, but he didn’t give her the chance.

“Shut it.”

The finality in his tone left no room for argument. Roxy closed her mouth with a small, dramatic huff, but she didn’t push further.

Darius’s hand slid down my arm until his fingers closed around mine. He gave a gentle tug, already shifting his weight to stand.

“Come on,” Darius murmured, fingers tightening around mine. “We’re leaving.”

Before either of us could take another step, the cottage exploded into chaos. Glass shattered.

A rock the size of a fist smashed through the front window, spraying shards across the floor.

Another followed instantly, then a third, punching through the side window with a sharp, violent crack.

Cold night air rushed in, carrying the metallic tang of blood and the low, hungry snarl of something that wasn’t human.

Morgana’s voice rose in pure fury.
“What the fuck?!” Morgana’s voice cracked through the cottage like a whip, raw and furious.

“Which absolute, brainless, suicidal bastards just attacked my windows?!”

She stormed toward the shattered glass, arms flung wide in pure outrage.

“My fucking windows! Do you have any idea how long it takes to properly ward those things?! Weeks! Ancient runes, blood ink, three different lunar cycles—and now some undead idiots think they can just throw rocks through them like this is a goddamn tavern brawl?!”

She spun toward the open doorway, green magic already sparking violently at her fingertips.

“I swear on every dead god, if one more thing gets broken on my property tonight, I am going to peel the skin off whoever is responsible and use it as a doormat!”

Darius was already moving.

He didn’t speak. He simply shoved the door open hard enough to slam it against the outer wall and surged into the night, shadows exploding around him like a living storm. Roxy and Xander were right on his heels—blades already drawn, expressions locked into cold battle focus.

I didn’t hesitate. I ran after them.
The clearing outside was chaos under the blood-red eclipse.

Dust and broken glass glittered across the ground. And standing at the center of it all, calm as death itself, was a tall, broad-shouldered vampire I had seen once before.

The road. The first attack. That same cold, ancient presence. Those same pale, calculating eyes.

Darius came to a hard stop, every muscle in his body coiling with recognition and pure, lethal rage.

“Lazarez,” he hissed, voice low and dangerous.

The old vampire smiled slowly, almost politely, as if they were meeting for tea instead of blood.

“Prince,” Lazarez answered, the word dripping with mock respect.

“Eron sends his regards… and a simple request.”

His gaze slid past Darius and landed on me.

“Hand over the fae girl.”

Behind me, Morgana’s magic flared bright and furious from the shattered doorway.

Roxy’s blades flashed under the crimson light. Xander’s low growl rolled through the clearing like distant thunder.

And Darius…Darius stepped fully in front of me, shadows rising around us both like a wall of night.

“Over my dead body,” he said.

Lazarez’s smile only widened.

“That,” he murmured, “can be arranged.”