Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike, Original Characters, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady, Rose Landry, Yuna Hollander, David Hollander, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau, Sasha | Ilya Rozanov's Coach's Son, Svetlana Vetrova

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Princes & Princesses, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Prince Shane Hollander, Blood Drinking, Soul Bond, Boys In Love, Jealousy, Good Friend Hayden Pike, Shane Hollander & Hayden Pike Friendship, Long-Suffering Hayden Pike, Ilya Rozanov is Obsessed With Shane Hollander, Top Ilya Rozanov, Depressed Ilya Rozanov, Ilya Rozanov & Svetlana Vetrova Friendship, Magic, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-23 Completed: 2026-03-22 Words: 41,352 Chapters: 14/14

Royal Blood

Summary

Shane is sent on a dangerous mission, he must find wealth for his Kingdom, their home was pillaged and they are struggling to keep their people secure. Not many men dare to enter the enchanted woods, Shane isn't an ordinary man, he's a prince and he will save his people.

The fae warn of danger and temptation but Shane is not tempted by anything, he will keep his eyes on the prize.

But when he reaches the ancient castle in the woods, he meets the most beautiful man he's ever seen.

And that man...

Is not mortal.

Notes

Hey guys! Thanks so much for the support on my other Heated Rivalry stories. I just can't get enough of these boys and Ilya is just made to be a magical creature.

Please keep commenting and let me know what you think of my story.

I will attempt to update once a day for four days but with five days off and then repeat. Life of a shift worker huh.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 1: Omen

Sunlight shines down in layers through the foliage above the heads of 20 men, they’re quiet, on a mission. The only sound is their horses' hooves. 

The forest changes the deeper they ride. At the edge of the kingdom’s borders, the woods had been familiar with birdsong, the crunch of hooves over dry leaves, sunlight breaking cleanly through the canopy. But now the air feels thick, green. It’s hard to explain the feeling that surrounds the men who had never left the safety of their kingdom. 

Prince Shane is in awe, his deep brown eyes looking around at the unfamiliar trees. His men follow him in a tight formation. Leather creaks and steel glints in the sun. They’ve been travelling for days, exhaustion is beginning to creep onto their faces. But they all know where they’re headed. 

The Moonveil Wood.

It’s the part of the forest that mothers warned their children about, the place left off the maps. But they need this. Shane adjusts his grip on the reins and keeps his eyes forward, he needs to save his kingdom from disrepair. The Drakora pillaged Shane’s parent’s kingdom a few years ago, the dragon-like creatures took much of the kingdom's wealth. Shane’s mother Queen Yuna had kept them afloat for as long as she could but their luck and their money had run out. 

The kingdom’s remaining diamond mine was nearly spent, trade had slowed and rivals were circling. A prince who could not secure wealth was a prince who would not remain one for long.

And deep within the Moonveil Wood lived creatures who knew everything.

The fae. Seductive, beautiful, and cruel. They never answer freely. They prefer to trade in secrets or memories, sometimes even just for fun. But if anyone knew where new riches might lie buried, it would be them.

Hayden is ever present at Shane’s side, he wears his responsibility like armor though his expression betrays his concern. Shane’s loyal lord-in-waiting. Though he does have to question this mission. “You’re certain this is wise?” Hayden asks quietly. “The fae are known for taking advantage of man, for giving up everything in the case of fun. They will smell our desperation.” 

“We’re not desperate,” Shane replies.

Hayden raises a brow. “We have been travelling for days into a cursed forest to beg tricksters for financial advice.”

Shane exhales sharply through his nose. “We are negotiating.”

“With creatures who glamour kings and steal names.”

“They won’t harm us unless we give them reason.”

Hayden’s gaze lingers on him. “And you’re certain you won’t?”

Shane doesn’t have a good answer for that so they ride in silence once more. The hooves start sinking into moss that seems just a little too soft. The trees here are taller than home, their trunks pale and smooth as bone. Vines hang like drapery, holding back the sunshine from their skin. The air is starting to smell sickeningly sweet, like fresh cut roses with a touch of vanilla. Like the rose milk and vanilla cakes that Yuna used to make for Shane’s birthdays. 

Hayden clears his throat, trying to fill the awkward silence. He didn’t realise he would make it worse. “Rose sent another letter before we left.”

Shane’s shoulders stiffen. “That’s… Nice.”

“She worries.”

“She shouldn’t.”

Pause.

“She writes as though you’re already king,” Hayden continues carefully, unaware of the emotional turmoil in his Prince’s head. “As though your marriage will steady the realm.”

“My marriage will steady the realm,” Shane snaps. Why does the mention of his fiance cause Shane so much.. Discomfort? He doesn’t understand why. On the surface, Rose is everything the kingdom needs. She’s a perfect queen, funny, caring, intelligent and beautiful. And yet Shane only ever feels shame when he sees her. 

Hayden studies him openly now. “Do you love her?”

Shane’s jaw tightens. Oh that word. Love. It never feels right in Shane’s mouth. It has no business in a royal engagement but Hayden can’t know that, for the sake of the stability of the crown. “Of course I do.”

“Because she is suitable,” Hayden calls his bluff. “Or because—”

“Because I love her,” Shane cuts in sharply. 

The men are quiet, even the forest seems to hold its breath. Only Hayden would dare question the future King of the Kingdom of Montreal.  

Shane continues, “She is kind. She is loyal. She understands her duty. I will marry her, and our kingdoms will prosper. That is enough.”

Enough.

The word tastes hollow. But Shane refuses to let everyone down, he will return with riches to marry Lady Rose Landry and that’s the end of it.

Hayden doesn’t press but the silence is thick between them, a breeze moves through the trees and yet the leaves don’t stir. 

A curse slips from the lips of one of Shane’s men, the entire group can feel the sudden change. And not just because of the tension between Shane and Hayden. There’s a shift in the atmosphere, it feels like a million eyes on their skin. 

Shane slows his horse, there’s a path ahead that’s been swallowed by a pale mist that wasn’t there mere moments ago. They must be close. Shane’s heart pounds, he’s nervous and excited all at once. He’s never met the fae, knows barely anything about them. But surely this is a sign they are approaching the lion's den so to speak.

There’s a delicately carved symbol on the bark of a silver tree, it’s a spiral design and very intricate. It’s glowing a faint blue light. The mark of the fae. 

The forest is no longer empty. They must be expected, hopefully they don’t smell the desperation as Hayden had teased earlier. 

Shane urges his horse forward, heading his team into the mist. He had wondered if maybe it would part for them but instead the mist thickens. That smell is still there, roses and vanilla, getting stronger. Could they know about the cakes? About Shane’s past? No, that's ridiculous. Surely. 

They still can’t see through the mist, only the path below the horse’s hooves. Music starts to slip through the trees. Soft and threaded with ethereal laughter. They follow the sound blindly through the mist, they dodge trunks and bushes that they can barely see. Suddenly the mist fades away, all at once. 

Shane looks around, disorientated. His eyes land on a couple, two men holding hands. They’re both stunning, way too beautiful. Their skin holds a silver sheen in the filtered light. Their hair, it’s dark as ink. It’s fallen perfectly in place, unaffected by the wind. Their eyes are bright and luminous. Dangerous. 

One smiles, it’s a devastating thing. “I am known as Hunter, my partner here, Kip.” He purrs, his voice soft as velvet. The two men look at each other in a way that seems so intimate Shane can barely face them. “A prince.” Hunter says.

Kip circled slowly, boots silent against the moss. “And armed men. How cautious.” Like honey dripping from his lips. 

The soldiers shifted uneasily, both mildly turned on and terrified. 

The first to dismount is Shane, not listening to Hayden’s whispered warning. “We seek the all-knowing fae.”

Hunter’s gaze sharpens with amusement. “You’ve found us.”

Kip tilts his head. “But knowledge has a price.”

Hayden dismounts, filled with courage after watching Shane bravely face the fae. He stays one step behind his prince. “We expected as much.”

Hunter’s eyes slide over Hayden, looking him up and down. He’s not excited by what he sees. “Only the prince may enter.”

The trunk of the silver tree that bares the symbol of the fae splits soundlessly down the middle, revealing a hollow doorway glowing faintly from within. 

It’s beautiful, enchanting. Shane takes a step forward but Hayden grabs his arm tightly. “Absolutely not.”

Hunter’s smile dims a fraction. “Mortals do not dictate our hospitality.”

“He doesn’t go alone,” Hayden says evenly.

The air shifts, it’s suddenly electric. The scent of roses and vanilla floats out of the doorway and Shane wonders if it’s a trap. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of the knife, maybe Hayden coming with him is a very good idea.

The silence is broken by the windchime like laughter coming from Kip. “We should let him come. It will make this more interesting.”

Hayden steps forward, following Shane, Hunter and Kip into the tree. It seals behind them. The interior is vast, impossibly so. The soft walls are alive with bioluminescent veins of light. Like everything before, it’s beautiful and Shane is enthralled. Hayden keeps a tight grip on his friend, being the voice of reason. “Stay strong Shane.” 

Shane nods and blinks a few times. 

A table appears in front of them, already set. There’s fruits that are so perfect they gleam like jewels, dark bread is steaming gently, two silver goblets are filled with deep crimson liquid. 

Hunter gestures gracefully. “Sit. Eat. Drink.”

Now Shane is paying attention, he doesn’t move. This is getting a bit too weird. And there’s that smell again. “We’re not hungry,” he says.

Kip’s smile sharpens. “You should be, you’ve been traveling for days.”

Hayden’s hand rests lightly on the hilt of his sword. “We’ll stand, thanks.”

Hunter looks down at the sword and tuts. “No, no that will not do.” He clicks his fingers and the sword disappears, as does Shane’s weapons. 

“Hey!” Hayden yells. 

“You will get them back when you exit our realm.” Kip sits at the table and looks up at the men. 

Hunter sighs. “Mortals are so distrustful.” He sits down beside Kip and joins their hands.

“You are tricksters,” Shane replies plainly.

A pause.

Then Hunter’s lips curve again, approving this time. “Very well,” he said softly. “No aid without trust.”

Kip lifts the goblets. “Drink.”

“What is it?” Hayden demands to know.

“Truth.”

Shane studies the liquid. It shimmers faintly, catching the strange light. “What if we refuse?”

“Then you may leave,” Scott says lightly. “And remain ignorant.”

Silence stretches.

It’s not like they have other options, not to mention that it’s unlikely they would kill Shane and Hayden. Where’s the fun of that? Shane steps forward first.

“Your Highness—” Hayden begins.

“If they wanted us dead, we would already be,” Shane says quietly, he lifts the goblet. The liquid is warm, it burns as it goes down. Not exactly painful but insistent and spreading through their bodies.

“Shiver.” Hayden says and looks surprised, clearly that’s not what he intended to say. 

“You cannot swear in our realm.” Hunter smiles gleefully. 

Hayden closes his eyes and brings the goblet to his lips, drinking the fluid.

The effect is immediate on the men.

Shane’s world sharpens, the edges of his thoughts blurs. Words are pressing against Shane’s tongue. 

Hunter leans forward, elbows resting lazily on the table. “So, what are you looking for, Prince?”

Shane tries to give a diplomatic response, measured and closed. He can’t stop the words, he can’t even think. “We need wealth,” he says, frustration spilling through. “The Drakora attacked us, our one remaining diamond mine is failing. Trade is thinning, Our rivals grow bold. I will not let my kingdom weaken because I was too proud to seek help.”

The honesty felt raw. Exposed.

Hayden inhaled sharply beside him but did not contradict him, those last words hurt him. He reaches over and pats Shane’s back twice.

Scott and Kip exchange a glance. They seem pleased with the results of the truth serum, the join hands and the world darkens around the table. The lights in the hollow dim until only their interlaced fingers glow faintly, silver and gold twining together.

When they speak it’s as though they are possessed, their voices in unison.

“There is wealth,” they murmured. “Riches beyond stone and crystal. Vaults untouched. Treasure hoarded.”

Hope flares in Shane’s chest, he leans forward, eagerly awaiting more. Then—

“But it is guarded.” Kip says.

Hunter speaks up next. “Not by steel.”

“Not by mortal kings.”

“By hunger.”

The air grows cold, the rose and vanilla smell is replaced by an iron like smell. Like.. Blood.

“You will face temptation.” Hunter starts.

Kip follows. “Desire sharpened to a blade.”

“A sweetness you will not resist.”

“Danger.” 

“And if you reach for it…”

Their eyes lifted in unison. “You may not return.” They say at the same time.

The light snaps back to normal. Hunter leans back, his smile returning. “Such is the cost of fortune.”

Hayden’s jaw tightens. “You speak in riddles.”

“We speak in warnings,” Kip corrects.

Shane steadies his breathing, his knuckles are white as they grip the side of the table. “Where?”

Hunter’s gaze lingers on Shane, a knowing gaze. “North,” he says softly. “Where the sun does not shine for more than five hours a day.”

Finally a direct answer. Shane tries to open his mouth and respond but the fae are done talking, the mist gathers around them until they can’t even see each other. Hayden and Shane find themselves on the forest floor in front of their men. The men have dismounted and are sitting on various logs around the forest, mid chat when Hayden and Shane reappear. They sit up and look around. Hayden reaches down and as they said, his sword has been returned. “Whew.” 

“Prince Shane!” 

The men scramble to their feet. 

“I’m okay.” Shane says, finding his feet. He walks over to his horse and starts stroking the mane, part of him thought he might not return. He’s really back. The air smells green now, not sickeningly sweet. 

Hayden speaks up. “Maybe we should head back Shane.” 

Shane looks at Hayden, surprised. “We found what we came for.”

“We found a death omen.”

“We found hope.” Shane turns and approaches one of his men, the one adept with the ability to create fire messages. 

The man stands to attention, his hands fidgeting nervously behind his back.

“Prepare a fire message,” Shane orders.

The guard nods quickly and reaches into his horse’s saddle. He draws a small copper bowl from his satchel, symbols are traced in ash. He produces a weathered piece of paper and a match.

Shane dictates carefully.

~~~

We have been warned of danger in pursuit of new wealth north of the Moonviel Wood. Potential great reward. Significant risk. Advise whether to proceed.

~~~

The man murmurs the incantation. The parchment catches flame but doesn't burn.

Instead, the fire folds inward, lifting as a bright ember that shoots into the sky and vanishes beyond the treetops.

The men watch it go and then all they can do is wait. Shane has seeked guidance from his parents, something he does often but whether he follows their advice is hit or miss.

They didn’t have to wait long, the replies came at dusk. The ember returns in a streak of gold across the dimming sky, it descends hard and fast before folding into flame in the copper bowl before Shane’s man. “Prince Shane, it’s here.” 

Shane rushes over and grabs the parchment reformed from smoke, his father’s handwriting is visible. Unmistakable. His mother is the one who signed the bottom though, hers is elegant and dignified. 

~~~

If there is a chance to secure our kingdom’s future, you must take it.

We will not ask our people to endure hunger while we shrink from risk.

You are our son. You are our prince.

Be brave. But be wise.

Yuna and David

~~~

Shane exhales slowly. The weight on his shoulders settles differently this time, acceptance, not doubt. 

He folds the parchment carefully. “We continue north.”

Hayden does not hesitate, he can’t defy two sets of royal orders. Plus he trusts Shane. “Of course we do.”

“There will be danger,” Shane says quietly.

Hayden’s mouth curves, almost offended. “There is always danger.”

A beat.

“I swore an oath Shaney,” Hayden continues. “And I don’t just mean to the throne. To you.”

Shane meets his eyes and for a moment, the forest doesn’t feel so large, so lonely.

“Stay close,” Shane says.

Hayden smiles faintly. “I intend to.”

A storm descends on the men, completely out of nowhere. One minute the forest was clear, the mist having faded. The next moment the sky curdles black, clouds folding over each other like a bruise. Wind starts to tear through the tree tops in a low scream. 

The horses start to grow skittish. 

“Hold them steady!” Hayden barks as thunder cracks so violently it sounds like the earth is splitting. 

The rain follows in a sudden, merciless sheet. Within seconds they are drenched. Cloaks clinging heavily to their shoulders. Visibility shrinks. And through the blur of rain and fog, something starts to appear. A structure. At first, Shane thinks it might be a trick to disorient them.

Then the shape solidifies, it looks like.. Towers.

They’re not like Shane’s, not grand and clean. These towers are narrow, they look like they’re clawing at the sky. Weathered iron spires crown each peak. 

The castle rises into view as they approach, fighting the rain and the wind. It’s built of dark stone that is so dark it always looks wet, ivy has crept up its walls in thick and strangling veins. The windows are tall and narrow but they can’t see anything past the stained glass. The torches aren’t burning. There’s no banners marking allegiance, it shows all the markings of being abandoned but there’s this weird feeling pricking at the back of Shane’s neck. This castle belongs to someone. It’s not abandoned.

The front gates are open just wide enough for Shane and his men to enter. Lightening flares again and illuminates the stone figures carved along the outer walls. They look.. Hungry?

One of Shane’s men speaks up out of fear. “This place is wrong,” He mutters. 

The wind screams down from the north, blinding them with rain in their faces. To most people it would seem like a warning but Shane feels the opposite. Shane feels a strong pull to the place, not even subtle. His pulse quickens. 

“Your Highness,” Hayden calls over the storm, urging his horse closer. “We can attempt to make camp under the ridge behind us.”

“And drown?” Shane shoots back, wiping rain from his eyes. “The men need walls.”

Another crack of thunder, it’s getting closer and the horses are spooked, some rear up. Shane makes the decision. 

“We take shelter,” Shane commands loudly. He leads his men through the open gates.

The courtyard is vast and beautifully maintained, there’s no debris nor broken stone. The pathway is slick with rain but bears no sign of decay. A fountain stands in the centre. The doors at the top of the broad stone steps were enormous, black oak reinforced with iron. The metal is decoratively curled into patterns, shapes that resemble thorns. 

Shane dismounts, rain plastered his hair to his forehead, he hands the reins to one of his men who takes the horses to shelter in the stable. Hayden stays close to Shane’s side. 

Thunder cracks ominously behind them, the wind is howling. 

Shane raises his fist and knocks on the door.

Chapter 2: Stormbound

Chapter Summary

Ilya's brooding.

Dressed in a heavy silk cloak, embroidered in gold, is a man standing beside the highest window of the western tower. His skin is pale, his eyes a bright blue. Under his cloak he’s wearing a beautiful black linen shirt with long flowing sleeves and a deep v neck, he wears a black waistcoat with more golden embroidery. His pants are deceptively simple and black. His feet are bare. Golden curls adorn his head like a halo. Ironic, he thinks. Given he’s a monster.  

Ilya looks out the window, the storm pleases him. The sky is tearing itself apart, lightning illuminates the forest below. Thunder rolls across the land he rules, though no official crown rests on his head. He doesn’t require one. The forest folk know that the north belongs to him, it has for centuries. 

The castle was built long before Ilya inhabited it. It had known kings, sieges and blood. Once it knew laughter too. Bright and mortal. But now it knows him, and he knows it.

He knows the hollow echoes of the corridors at dusk, the way the torches know when he is displeased and burn softer. 

Immortality is not endless excitement, more like endless repetition. The night comes and goes and seasons pass unnoticed. Mortals age and die and are simply replaced by new ones just as fragile. Borders shift constantly as kingdoms shrink and grow. But they all know to keep their distance from the Moonveil Wood.

He was tired of watching people grow old and die, he replaced his staff with magical creatures of very long lifetimes. Hoping to get rid of the hollow feeling in his chest. 

Maybe love would. But Ilya doesn’t even know how to feel that, or how to find it. He doesn’t know what would save him. Svetlana is here, and he loves her. But it’s not the same. The love is not his. 

His jaw tightens, as does his grip on the windowpane. He has grown his power, never meant to be king, but he took on the burden. Svetlana took him into the castle and made him a leader, needing help to protect her castle and ground. She always believed in his strength, his character and his intelligence. He doesn’t crave cruelty like many vampires do. He fell victim to that once, never again.  

A soft knock rattles on the tower door. 

“Ilya,” Svetlana calls gently, not waiting for permission before entering. It is technically her castle after all. She’s dressed in deep burgundy tonight, the colour rich against her tanned skin. It’s funny how she can look so tanned and so pale at the same time, she’s beautiful. Her dark hair is tightly coiled into ringlets around her head. She’s been by his side for over a century as a friend, advisor, the closest thing to family that he would allow himself. And yes, once a lover too. That was a long time ago now. 

“Brooding?” she asks lightly.

“Observing,” he corrects with a shrug.

She steps beside him at the window with the lightest footsteps, smooth and silent. Her presence is steady and warm in a way that only another immortal could be. Not warm in temperature, that long since left them. But warm in familiarity.

“They’ll stay away tonight,” she says, glancing toward the forest. “Mortals dislike storms.”

“They dislike the dark more.”

“And yet they continue to wander into it.”

A faint curve touches his lips. “Yes,” he murmurs. “They do.”

Svetlana studies him quietly. “You haven’t fed properly,” she says at last.

“I have.”

“On animals."

“It is sufficient.”

“For survival,” she agrees. “Not for strength.”

His gaze returns to the storm. He can’t think about that. Human blood can be intoxicating, rich and warm. It carries emotion and memory. It’s too much for Ilya. He avoids it. Svetlana believes maybe because of mercy or discipline. 

“I have no desire to hunt,” he says evenly. He’s learned the cost of indulgence.

Svetlana doesn’t argue, she shifts closer, shoulder brushing his arm. “You are lonely.”

The word doesn’t wound Ilya but he hates it anyway. Silence stretches between them, heavy but.. Safe.  

Some of the forest vampires still accept him as their king, they were his responsibility. That they do not draw attention, that they don’t turn whole villages into graveyards. He taught them what he could, about trying to control themselves. Best to get them when they’re young. But there’s been less and less new vampires these days. Most are happy to confine themselves to the forest. 

It’s been two centuries of stone walls, empty rooms. He knows that no mortal could stay, that he would outlive anyone he might love. He could never create a new vampire. Not after what his brother did to him, made him this creature of the night. So he stays alone, only Svetlana and his magical staff to keep the castle cared for. 

Immortality did not make the heart immune to loss but he knows he must never dare to even dream of more. Time will take it all. 

Again.

And again.

Thunder cracks directly above the tower. Ilya inhaled, standing dead still. His fingers grip the windowframe so hard that it cracks. Something new cuts through the smell of the rain and the damp earth. Something sharp and bright, annoyingly alive. His head tilts slightly.

Svetlana notices at once, she can smell mortals nearby but it rarely affects Ilya like this. “What is it?” She asks.

He looks down, through the heavy rain. There.. A pulse. Faint. Human. But different, not any human. He’s existed long enough to know how the scent of blood can change with emotions, illness, life. Fear sours it and rage sharpens it. But this.. This was..

Ilya swallowed, his throat raw and aching. 

It’s sweet, sickeningly so. Not just in the scent, in pull. It slides along his nerves, setting them on fire. A completely new sensation.

“What is it?” Svetlana repeats, softer now.

Ilya’s fingers curl against the cold stone. “Guests,” he says, his voice gravelly. Low. Unsteady even.

The scent strengthens. Closer. His control is being tested. It feels different though, not merely hunger. Under the instinct, something else stirs. Less predatory and more.. Aching awareness.

This storm has carried more than mere mortals to his door, it’s like fate. Something the fae would say in a stupidly complicated riddle.

Ilya steps back from the window as if it’s on fire. “They’re at the gates.” He says.

Svetlana’s eyes brighten, in interest not hunger. It’s been a few decades since a mortal stepped foot on their grounds. She’s ever the grateful host. He claps her hands together, enjoying that old familiar undercurrent humming through the air.

“Well,” she says lightly, smoothing a hand down the front of her gown. “We can hardly receive them like this.”

The castle hasn’t been prepared for guests. Dust lays in delicate layers along the banisters, several torches had long since guttered out. One of the western guest chambers still bore the faint stain of a shattered goblet from an argument a century past.

Ilya did not hesitate. To mortal eyes, it would appear like smoke as he moved through the castle. His speed is ancient but honed. He moves through the corridors in a blur. Cloaks lifted from chairs and folded, dust scattered from tables in precise sweeps of his hand. Windows are thrown open and shut again to stir the air. The long dining hall candles flared to life as he passed, flame catching instantly at his silent command.

He rightens a fallen candelabrum in the east wing, straightens the throne in the receiving hall. Adjusts the great velvet drapes so they fall just so, a tad dramatic but Ilya like a bit of drama.

Behind him, Svetlana is motion and elegance. She sweeps into the guest wing, stripping old linens in a single fluid motion before replacing them with fresh silk from storage. Pillows are fluffed. Fireplaces spark to life with controlled embers, she removes the faintest trace of disuse from the mirrors with the side of her palm.

The castle shifted with them. Awakened as though it was alive, like it sensed the change.

In the lower hall, Marleau snorts irritably. The centaur had been dozing near the entry arch, polishing a spear more out of habit than necessity. His dark hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck, and his broad equine body was dusted faintly with ash from the hearth.

“Guests,” Ilya calls as he reappears at the base of the stairs.

Marleau straightens at once, hooves striking stone. “At this hour?” he mutters.

“At this hour.”

Marleau rolls his shoulders, adjusting the deep green sash that marks his station as guard of the northern hall. He smoothes his hair back, lifts his chin, and positions himself before the great doors. 

Svetlana appears beside Ilya in the final second, despite racing around the castle, she is completely composed. 

The torches at the entrance corridor light in unison, the castle fairies take care of that for them. 

The castle is now transformed. All of it, the cleaning, the lighting, the preparation, had taken less than a minute.

Thunder cracks as a loud knock echoes through the hall.

Marleau places one steady hand on the iron handle, he looks back at his vampire royals. They nod and he opens the door.

Ilya tries to hide his awe. There he is, who would’ve thought. The Prince of Montreal. One of the most beautiful mortals Ilya has ever seen. 

Shane was prepared for darkness inside the castle, cobwebs and discarded furniture. But the doors open smoothly despite the strong wind from the storm. Shane is surprised by the grandeur. The light is warm, spilling outwards. It illuminated polished marble floors and towering columns with intricate, curling designs in gold. 

And standing in the doorway… A centaur.

Shane blinks, he’s only read about them. Seen crude illustrations in dusty books. But nothing had prepared him for the reality.

He’s enormous, a broad equine body, sleek and powerful. His dark coat is luscious. His human half has strong soldiers, composed posture and deep eyes that assess without fear. 

“Shelter is granted,” the centaur says, voice deep and resonant.

Hayden’s hand tightens around Shane’s arm. Shane felt it too, the sharp flicker of alarm.

This is no ordinary castle. Regardless, Shane inclines his head politely. “You have our gratitude.”

The centaur steps aside. “Enter.”

The men cross the threshold, the doors shut behind them with an echoing thud.

Shane’s heavy boots clink against the marble, he’s quick to kick the boots off beside the door. 

The entrance hall rises three stories high, a sweeping staircase curves upwards like a spine. Velvet drapes fall between tall windows. Candelabras cast flickering shadows that danced across stone.

And at the top of the staircase.. He stood.

For a moment, Shane forgets to breathe.

The man is framed perfectly by torchlight, pale skin is luminous against the dark interior. His golden curls are styled deliberately back from his face. His deep v shirt gives a very sexy peek of a collarbone. His tailored waistcoat fitted close to his strong frame. Around his neck is a cross on a golden chain.

Shane tilts his head, he doesn’t look like a recluse. He looks like he’s been carved by midnight.

Beside him, half a step behind and to his left, stands a woman equally curious. Her gown was black silk, clinging elegantly, gold embellishment sweeping across the bodice in intricate detail. Her dark hair fluffy above her shoulders, her posture regal.

They don’t seem surprised to see Shane and his group of men, if anything, they look prepared.

The man descends the staircase slowly, his steps are measured and confident. Each step is deliberate, commanding control of the room. His gaze never moves from Shane. It’s not a hostile look, Shane notices. It’s also not exactly welcoming. Somewhere in between. 

It feels like a touch against Shane’s skin. 

When the man reaches the final step, he stops a polite distance away. “Prince.” He says in a deep, smooth voice. Almost intimate. His voice has an interesting accent, gravelly. 

Shane straightens his back, trying to concentrate. “You know who I am?”

A faint smile curves at his lips. “You are difficult to miss.”

Heat creeps up Shane’s neck.

“I am Ilya,” the man continues. “This is Svetlana.”

Svetlana inclines her head gracefully. “Your Highness.” Her voice is in the same ancient accent as Ilya, though Shane would describe her voice like silk.

Shane fights to regain his composure, he’s first and foremost a future king, a diplomat. He shouldn’t be standing here rendered silent by a beautiful stranger.

“We seek temporary shelter from the storm,” Shane says carefully. “We will not impose longer than necessary.”

Ilya’s eyes flicker to Hayden for a moment, Shane could swear there’s a touch of jealousy there. Back to Shane. “You are no imposition.”

There was something in the way he said it, something that felt less like courtesy and more like certainty.

Hayden’s fingers dig subtly into Shane’s sleeve, it would seem he noticed the change in Ilya’s eyes. “We are grateful,” Hayden says quickly. “But we do not wish to inconvenience your household.”

“You won’t,” Ilya replies. The torches seemed to burn brighter as he spoke. “You and your men will each be given rooms,” he continues smoothly. “Dry clothes. Food, if you desire it.”

Ilya pauses for a moment. “For the night.” The way he said night made it feel like something sacred.

Or dangerous.

Shane swallows. He doesn’t know what Ilya and Svetlana are, not human, that’s clear. There’s something a bit too controlled about them, too precise in their mannerisms.

But they had opened their doors in a storm, Shane’s men are drenched by rain and exhausted. To continue would mean sickness among them.  “We accept,” Shane says at last.

Hayden gives Shane an anxious look but he trusts his prince. “We accept.”

While nervous, relief flickers across the soldiers’ faces.

Svetlana sweeps across the floor and gestures gracefully toward a side corridor. “Marleau will show your men to their chambers.”

The centaur inclines his head once more before guiding the soldiers away.

Only Shane and Hayden remain in the main hall. 

Ilya hasn’t moved yet, he’s still watching Shane with a focus so unwavering that it made Shane’s pulse quicken.

“You must be cold,” Ilya says softly, his concern genuine.

Shane tells himself to answer diplomatically. “It will pass.” 

Ilya gives another faint smile. “Everything does.” He responds.

Hayden tugs at Shane’s arm. “We should change.” 

“Yes,” Shane says, finally tearing his gaze away.

But as he followed the direction the centaur took down the corridor, he felt it. Like invisible fingers tracing the back of his neck.

Ilya’s eyes, lingering

Chapter 3: Intrigue

Chapter Summary

Ilya follows his deeper desires, just to have a conversation with Shane.

Chapter Notes

Thank you so much for reading! I hope the boys are in character enough, I love them so much but they're very nuanced characters. I'm quite enjoying the 'sibling' relationship that I've created between Svetlana and Ilya, sorry if you prefer them to be lovers. Hollanov forever.

Also, smut next chapter.

The storm fades away before dawn, Ilya could feel it without looking out the window. The wind softened first, the rain thinning to a whisper against the stained glass windows. Clouds pull apart, pale morning light creeps through. He finds himself once again at the window in the western tower. Below, in the courtyard, the last droplets slide down the stone.

Ilya had spent the night in his chambers, trying desperately to ignore the growing feelings in his chest and that scent. The sweetness of Shane’s blood. He wanted to talk to Shane but how could he even begin to approach him? How could he be close enough to touch him, bite him, and keep him safe. And at the same time.. Ilya knows that now the storm is over, the prince and his men would depart as the sun rises. They would mount their horses, offer thanks and disappear into the forest. 

And Ilya..

He might never see Shane again. The thought strikes deeper than it should have, it feels like his heart is beating again. This is dangerous. Stupid. 

Behind him the door opens, Svetlana glides in and rests on an old footstool beside Ilya, her legs crossed elegantly. “You didn’t feed,” she says gently.

“I know.”

“You are trembling.”

Ilya looks down, he hadn’t noticed, it wasn’t visible like in mortals, it’s subtle, tension in his muscles. Hunger threading sharp and hot under his skin. “He is…” Ilya begins, then stops.

Svetlana waits patiently, like a stone statue beside him. 

“He is unlike anything I have ever encountered.”

Her lips curve faintly. “Yes.”

Ilya’s jaw tightens. “His blood—”

“I can’t smell anything different, all his men smell delicious.”

Ilya licks his lips, he can only smell Shane. The scent lingers in the castle halls even now. Rich and achingly sweet.

When Shane had stood in the entry hall, soaked from rain and attempting diplomacy with that careful, princely composure, Ilya had felt something crack open inside his chest. It’s a pull that frightens him. And Shane.. Those deep beautiful eyes, dark hair, golden skin. 

“If I drink from him,” Ilya says quietly, “I will not stop.”

Svetlana doesn’t soften the truth, Ilya knows her better than that. “No.”

He could control himself with villagers. With travelers. Even with nobles foolish enough to wander too far from their escorts.

But this..

This was different. The scent alone had nearly undone him at the door. To taste it?

He closes his eyes briefly, stifling a moan.

“You could let them leave,” Svetlana offers.

Ilya considers her words. “I should.” 

“Yes.”

“If he stays, I risk losing control.”

“Yes.” Svetlana reaches her hand out to his knee. “And yet…” 

He puts his hand on top of hers and whispers. “And yet.”

He looks out the window, the light is starting to shine. They will see it, they will leave. Ilya can’t allow that. Not yet. He needs to know more, he needs more time. He can’t leave.

The air in the tower cools, outside the clouds thicken again, wind stirs the treetops and the faint sound of thunder begins. Rain pounds against the ground. It’s heavy and relentless.

But it’s not real. No rain drops touch the glass. Even the scent returns, wet earth. Seamless and convincing. Svetlana watches the illusion settle across the forest.

It was perfect, a perfect glamour. Ilya didn’t even intend to create it. His heart did. He doesn’t look away from the window, afraid of what Svetlana’s gaze might reveal. “Just one more day,” he says quietly.

Svetlana crosses her arms. “Ilya.” 

He sighs. “Yes I know Sveta. Please don’t.” 

It’s manipulation, interference. This is a terrible idea but it’s already done.

He gives a quiet gasp, Shane appears, he steps into the courtyard with a determined stance. Within seconds he’s soaked in rain that isn’t even real. His clothing clinging to him and raindrops falling down his face. He looks around before retreating back into the castle, Hayden at his side. 

Ilya’s throat burns, he needs to look away from the window. “I will not touch him,” he says.

Svetlana arches her brow.

“I mean it.”

“For how long?”

That… He did not answer. Instead, he moved, vanishing from the tower in a blur of motion. In the lower kitchens, he reappears beside the long stone counters. Marleau and his fellow centaurs had indeed kept provisions stocked. Sacks of grain, dried meats, preserved fruits, fresh bread delivered discreetly from nearby villages in exchange for protection.

Ilya has no need for such things, but guests do. He rolls up his sleeves. If he could not feed, he would provide. He snaps his fingers and the household fairies light the hearth. 

He began slicing fruit with exacting care, setting water to boil. Arranging bread, honey and cheese on polished trays.

Something almost human stirs in the action. He has people that could do this of course but Ilya wants to, he wants to be domestic. Human for a few hours. 

Svetlana appears in the doorway, leaning lightly against the frame as she watches him work. “You are courting him,” she observes.

“I am being hospitable.”

“You created a storm.”

He pauses only briefly. “It would be rude to send them into dangerous weather.”

Her lips twitch. “You are a king,” she reminds him softly. “Not a boy.”

His knife presses harder than necessary against the cutting board. “Believe it or not Sveta, I am aware.”

But kings were allowed indulgences were they not?

Upstairs, thunder rolled again entirely of his making.

And in the guest wing, Prince Shane would be preparing for another day in the castle, maybe putting Ilya’s clothes on. Ilya inhales slowly.

The hunger sharpened, just one more day of this. He just needs to talk to Shane. Alone.

The fake storm continues to roar outside the windows. Inside his chamber, Ilya paces. He can’t remember the last time he ever paced.

Svetlana is watching him from the chair beside the hearth, legs crossed and a glass of red liquid in her hand. “You’re wearing a path into the stone,” she says in a song-like tone.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

He stops abruptly, turning toward her. “He cannot leave yet.”

“That,” she replies smoothly, yet rolling her eyes. “Was rather the point of the storm you fabricated.” 

Ilya exhales sharply. “It isn’t enough.”

She gives Ilya a look. “Isn’t it?”

“He is never alone.”

She blinks once. “Ah.” That’s what he’s getting at.

“He shadows him,” Ilya continues, irritation slipping through his otherwise composed voice. “The lord-in-waiting. Constantly at his side. Watching and interfering.”

“You mean protecting him.”

“I mean hovering.”

Svetlana took a delicate sip of blood. “He is loyal. It’s not a crime.”

“It is inconvenient.”

Her lips curve faintly. “And what, precisely, do you intend to do if you manage to separate them?”

Ilya’s jaw tightens. “I need to speak with him.”

“To speak,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“Not drink.”

He shoots her a look but she’s smiling away innocently. “I will not touch him.” He says.

“Mm.”

“I won’t.”

“I believe that you believe that.”

He closes the distance between them in a blink of a mortal eye, kneeling slightly in front of her chair in urgency. “Sveta.”

She looks up at her in concern, Ilya never uses that tone. Concerned, yet determined.

“I need a moment,” he says quietly. “Just one conversation without that man staring at me like I’m about to slaughter the prince.”

Svetlana tilts her head. “You might,” she says thoughtfully.

“I am serious.”

“So am I.”

He dragged a hand through his curls. A rare, visible crack in his composure. “I cannot think when he is near,” Ilya admits. “The scent alone is—” He cuts himself off.

Svetlana’s gaze softens. “This guy is really affecting you isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“You are obsessed.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

He looks away, pouting like a child. 

She lets him stew in it for a moment, he’s going to owe her big time. “I find the lord-in-waiting dreadfully dull.”

“You’ll do it?” He asks excitedly, jumping up on his knees. 

“Only because I love you.” She replies.

He leaps up and tackles her playfully. “You’re the best!” She laughs and rolls around on the carpet with her friend. She shoves him over and pins him down. “But,” she giggles, “I am not performing miracles. Only… adjustments.”

“That is all I require.”

Hayden doesn’t even realise it, he doesn’t know how it began or even how Svetlana found him in the sitting room. A map rests on the table. The sitting room is small, warm golden light from the torches reflects off the polished mahogany. A tray of wine and fruit rests untouched between them.

Svetlana speaks easily, fluidly, as though she’s known Hayden for years. “You’ve never traveled beyond your neighboring kingdoms?” she asks.

“Not extensively,” Hayden replies cautiously. “My duties….”

“Are admirable,” she interrupts gently. “But limiting.” She leans forward slightly, her voice lowering just enough to require attention. Her eyes are deep, she’s using a low glamour to keep him looking at her. “I once crossed the southern deserts,” she says. “Did you know the sand sings at night? If you listen closely, it hums like a choir beneath the stars.”

Hayden’s shoulders ease. He had meant to remain alert, to watch the corridors. To question the storm that had seemed to worsen unnaturally.

But her voice… It was captivating, soothing.

The faintest shimmer passes through her eyes, imperceptible to the human eye. A whisper of glamour.

“You’ve seen so much,” Hayden murmurs.

“More than I care to remember,” she replies wistfully.

His posture softens completely, the tension in his jaw loosen. The instinct to check on Shane fades to a distant hum in the back of his mind. 

“And you?” she prompts gently. “What do you want, Lord Hayden? When you are not guarding princes from imaginary dangers?”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “I don’t believe the dangers here are imaginary.”

He’s onto them, time to increase the glamour. “Then for today… rest.” She whispers.

His gaze becomes unfocused but he’s still looking at Svetlana, waiting on her every word. “Yes,” he says slowly. “Just for today.”

Across the castle, Ilya could feel it. Svetlana succeeded and the prince is alone. He steadies himself. 

Now or never.

Shane wanders the halls, killing time until the storm passes. Hayden left to examine their maps and find their path once this storm stops. He finds a long gallery lined with towering windows and older tapestries than ones he has ever seen outside of the royal archives. Such beauty. 

It’s their history, woven into tapestries. Battle scenes, crowned figures, creatures of myth standing alongside kings as equals. The threadwork shimmers faintly in the shifting torchlight.

He steps closer to one depicting a crowned figure standing beside a winged beast.The stitching was impossibly fine, it looks like it’s made of spun gold.

A voice behind him speaks up. “You’re admiring propaganda.”

Shane turns with a start, he hadn’t heard footsteps approaching. 

Ilya is standing a few paces away, his golden curls catching the light. He’s left his cloak behind, along with his waistcoat. He’s now wearing a white linen shirt, again with a flowing sleeve. 

“It’s beautiful,” Shane says.

“It’s curated.” A faint smile touches Ilya’s mouth. “Every ruler ensures history remembers them kindly.”

Shane glanced at him. “Even you?”

“Yes.”

Shane studies Ilya, that open and honest answer seems to contradict his closed off persona. “You rule this land.”

“I protect it.”

Shane nods, their eyes meet. Something passes between them as they look at each other. 

The scent was unbearable at this distance. Warm skin. Clean linen. That underlying sweetness that made his throat ache. Ilya shifts first, closer. Ilya is breathing him in. 

His expression is pain, or disgust maybe? Shane isn’t sure. 

Ilya takes a step back, it’s like he’s fighting an internal battle.

A flicker of confusion crosses Shane’s face. “You dislike company?” Shane asks.

“I dislike… temptation.” The word slipped out before Ilya could stop it.

Shane’s brow furrows slightly. “Am I tempting?” he asks, almost amused.

God.

Yes.

“No,” he says aloud.

The hunger sharpens instantly in punishment.

Shane turns back to the tapestry, trailing his fingers lightly over the woven thread. “You live alone here?” he asked.

“With Svetlana. And Marleau.”

“For how long?”

“Centuries.”

Shane sucks in a breath, his suspicions confirmed. “That sounds… lonely.”

There’s that word again. Ilya’s jaw tightens. “I am not mortal,” he says evenly. “We do not require constant companionship.”

“But you want it.” Shane blinks up at Ilya, those innocent eyes shining up at him. 

Ilya’s eyes are elsewhere, he looks at Shane’s neck, at the steady pulse. He’s too close. So close he could close the distance in less than a heartbeat.

He could press Shane against the tapestry-covered wall.

He could… He steps back again. “You should not wander alone,” he said instead, voice low.

“And yet you keep appearing.”

That almost made him laugh. “I am ensuring your safety.”

“From what?”

The truth trembled at the edge of his control. “From me.”

But he doesn’t say it. “The castle has many staircases.”

Shane smiles faintly. “I’ll be careful.”

He turns and walks away, for one reckless, terrible second, their hands brush. Skin to skin. The contact sent a violent jolt through Ilya’s body, like something ancient aligning inside him.

Shane inhales sharply, he felt it too.

Ilya vanishes. Leaving only a faint stir of air behind.

Chapter 4: Desire

Chapter Summary

Ilya can't keep his distance for a moment longer.

Chapter Notes

Smut in this chapter :)

Shane could not have imagined a wardrobe like this. He opens the tall oak doors and finds many garments neatly pressed and faintly scented with cedar. Actually, Shane thinks it’s deeper, like sandalwood. Each piece is very out of date, by a few hundred years but they’re impeccable. 

He picks a blue linen shirt with loose flowing sleeves, the collar is a bit low for Shane’s liking but attractive for sure. It’s oversized, brushing his wrists and shoulders. It’s more.. Ilya sized. He tugs it over his head, adjusts the collar as much a possible. He stares at himself in the large ornate mirror. The fabric is soft against his skin, the vibrant blue is flattering against his dark features and tan skin. He smiles at himself, swaying to the side as he rolls up the sleeves. He tries on a pair of olive coloured breeches, they button just below his knee. The outfit doesn’t exactly match but it’s warm and comfortable. It’s too warm now in the castle for full woolen pants. 

Shane traces his figure in the mirror with his eyes, there’s this weird feeling inside him. Being here, in this castle, he feels lighter. More relaxed. It reminds him of home. It makes no sense, this place is dangerous and he hasn’t been here long. 

Shane jumps at a knock on his door, his heart pounds. 

“Your Highness?” a low, smooth voice purrs behind him.

He turns slowly, Ilya is standing there with a playful grin on his face. Shane sucks in a breath. Ilya has changed from earlier, no longer the restrained host nor the careful king. His shirt is a fitted black silhouette, his sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his muscled forearms. Matching, Shane notes. It’s open at the chest, clearly Ilya’s signature style. His golden curls frame his face perfectly. His outfit screams elegance and seduction. Shane can see the restraint behind his eyes, the tension in his posture. 

“I… uh… didn’t expect—” Shane begins.

“You look pretty.” Ilya says, tilting his head with a small smile, there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“Oh?” Shane says, barely above a whisper.

“Different maybe?”

Shane swallows. “Different how?”

Ilya steps fully inside the doorway, Shane can barely breathe let alone hear the storm outside now. His eyes lock onto the pale skin that is exposed at Ilya’s chest. He barely registers Ilya’s words.

“Alive, curious.” He says, rolling his words on his tongue. 

Shane’s cheeks heat. “That’s… diplomatic.”

Ilya’s lips quirk into a faint, sharp smile. “Well, I am a king in my own right.”

There’s a pause, charged and heavy. Shane’s pulse races. Ilya simply is present and the tension starts to hum like a live wire. He takes a few steps towards Shane, his hand presses against Shane’s stomach, heavy. It seems casual but the weight of intention is there. He guides Shane gently backwards against the wall, when he feels his back hit the wall, he inhales sharply. His chest rising and falling under the linen, he’s trembling. 

“This is a bad idea.” Shane whispers, maybe saying it aloud will make it less.. Real. 

Ilya’s dark gaze lifts to meet him. “What is?” His voice is dripping with desire, heat travels down Shane’s chest 

Before Shane can find the words to respond, Ilya leans closer, brushing his lips against Shane’s. 

Shane freezes, unsure how to react. But soon, desire takes over thought. He’s not going to over think this. He kisses back, harder. His hands slide up Ilya’s chest then down his sides, catching the edge of his shirt. 

Ilya stiffens, he pushes Shane back a little, keeping his hands steady on Shane’s shoulders. One step back. His lips curve over Shane’s, struggling to pull away. He’s shaking and holding himself back. Savouring every hitch of breath and heat. 

Shane has no idea of the danger. He kisses harder, presses harder, hands exploring with urgency. 

Ilya’s eyes flicker open in warning, sharp, almost golden instead of blue. “Enough,” He murmurs against Shane’s lips. 

Shane pulls back slightly, gasping. The rejection hits his heart. “I—”

Ilya steps fully back, dropping his arms. His curls fall forward, his lips parted and gaze intense. Shane notices his eyes are still the bright golden colour. How is that possible? Shane’s breathing is ragged, his heart pounding. He’s never felt like this, never thought he could. He likes kissing Rose, sort of. 

Okay not really. It could never compare to what just happened. A simple kiss has absolutely melted Shane, he so desperately wants more. He needs more. He wants Ilya to touch him, run his hands all over him and never let go. They’ve started something and Shane is determined to end it.  

“Ilya.” Shane says. 

“Shane.” Ilya replies, looking Shane up and down with hungry eyes. 

Shane isn’t like this, he doesn’t ask for what he wants. His life is built around keeping other people happy. He lives for the happiness and wealth of his people. But right now, all he wants is one thing. “Touch me.” He whispers. “Please Ilya.” 

Ilya runs his hands down his face, he looks like he’s in pain. Shane prays it’s just his weird way of displaying desire. What if Ilya doesn’t want him? What if Shane was the only one who felt something.. 

Ilya races up to Shane and touches his fingers below Shane’s chin, he nuzzles Shane’s nose with his. He’s cold. Shane closes his eyes, breathing him in. He can’t explain how, but Ilya smells like ice.  And like sex.

Shane reaches over, slowly undoing the rest of Ilya’s buttons, his fingers grace Ilya’s skin as he moves. When the last one opens, Shane presses his hands on Ilya’s abdomen. Ilya lets out a soft sound, like a whimper. Boy it does things to Shane. He does want him. 

Shane pushes the shirt away from Ilya’s shoulders and down his arms. He looks up at Ilya, meeting his hungry golden eyes. He closes his eyes, hoping Ilya will take the hint. A smooth cold hand wraps on the side Shane’s neck at the same moment Ilya kisses Shane again, Shane feels the slip of Ilya’s tongue into his mouth. 

Kissing Ilya is a whole different experience, there’s something in his kiss that brings Shane to life, makes his blood boil. Makes him melt. He feels weak in the knees, it’s lucky he’s pressed against a wall. He leans his head back and sighs blissfully. “Ilya..” He whispers. 

Ilya licks and kisses at Shane’s neck, his hands are gripping Shane’s shoulders painfully. “Ah..” Shane winces. 

“Sorry!” Ilya holds Shane at arms length again, his grip loosing but not removing. 

“It’s okay.” Shane gives a shy smirk, he follows his knees and drops to the floor. He looks up at Ilya, his eyes filled with desire. “Can I?” 

Ilya mumbles something in a language Shane doesn’t understand, but he nods. 

Shane is quick to unzip Ilya’s pants, pushing them quickly out of the way. Ilya is fully erect, leaking. God Shane wants to feel him in his mouth. He wraps his lips around the shaft and begins to move back and forth. Ilya is a lot to take but Shane is determined, he wants to feel Ilya’s cock hit the back of his throat over and over. 

“Jesus..” Ilya whispers, his head rolling back. He reaches down and grips Shane’s hair, moving with him as he bobs. Shane leans into the tight grip. He enjoys the encouragement. He notices Ilya bringing his hand down and starts helping Shane along, his gives strokes at the base. Ilya moans loudly, the sound echoes in the chamber. Shane is damn near overstimulated, with the moans, the storm and the crackling fire beside him.

He focuses back on his task, he grabs Ilya’s hips and feels as Ilya thrusts into his mouth. He breathes through, refusing to gag. Ilya is clearly fighting to stay still but he can’t. Shane starts touching himself above his breeches, needing a small taste.

“Ah!” Ilya yelps, his hand pulling hard at Shane’s hair. He groans and Shane knows he’s close, he sucks faster, moving back and forth. “Ohh.” He groans. His release slams into the back of Shane’s throat, filling him. Ilya moans softly as he comes back to earth, relaxing and slowly sinking to the rug where Shane is kneeling.

Shane pulls away and sighs happily, licking his lips. He slides up Ilya’s body until their faces are close together again. 

Ilya doesn’t seem to care that Shane tastes like him. He grips the side of Shane’s face and brings his chin up to bring their lips together. Shane’s breath is heaving, it’s so fucking hot. Ilya leans his back against Shane’s front, loose and limp beside the fire. “First time?” He asks.

“With a man? Yes.” Shane answers, running his hands through Ilya’s hair. 

Ilya turns and looks at Shane’s lips, then his gaze lowers to Shane’s crotch. “Then let me show you how to do this properly.” 

“Properly?” Shane says aghast. 

Ilya grins playfully before gently pushing Shane down onto the rug. He removes Shane’s breeches and pushes them down, just enough to expose his cop. Shane doesn’t have time to respond beore Ilya moves down, taking Shane’s leaking cock into his mouth. Shane immediately melts, gasping and whining. Dear god.. This is what he’s been missing? He’s been starved.  

Ilya’s hand sneaks up and grabs Shane’s peck from above his shirt. He moves his tongue up and down Shane’s cock, stopping at the top and lavishing attention on the head before thrusting back down and running his tongue along one of the throbbing veins. His other hand starts massaging Shane’s balls and that tips the scales for Shane.

He grips Ilya’s curls, they’re softer than he imagined. The warmth spreads through his chest and down and…

He gives one more thrust and then he cums down Ilya’s throat, the hot cum rolls down Ilya’s tongue and Ilya swallows every drop. 

“Oh god..” Shane whimpers. “Wow.. I didn’t know it could be like that.” 

“With me it is.” Ilya winks.

God. 

Shane’s scent is unbearable at this distance. Warm skin, sandalwood, sex. And oh.. That underlying sweetness that makes his throat ache.

The room is quiet now, just the low sound of Ilya’s illusion storm and the faint crackle of embers. Both he and Shane are still on the rug, not able nor willing to find the strength to pull away. Shane became shirtless after Ilya had sucked him. He’s on his side, his body still warm from the heat that passed between them. Ilya’s arm is draped loosely over Shane’s chest. Shane is so beautiful like this, illuminated by the soft light from the fireplace. 

Shane’s soft touches drive him crazy, he’s tracing the line of Ilya’s jaw. Their chests are pressed together. Shane is warm and Ilya cold. Ilya loves it, loves the heat Shane brings, like sunshine. 

Suddenly Shane leans forward and brushes his lips across Ilya’s forehead in a soft and lingering kiss.

Ilya jolts. Violently and sharply. His eyes snap open, suddenly finding the energy to push Shane away. He’s not quick enough, he can feel his fangs descend. God Shane is so close, so warm. He’s fighting against every instinct screaming inside of him. 

Shane freezes. He sits up, his jaw dropping. Instantly, the warmth and trust is gone. His pulse is racing again but not with desire. Fear. It sours his scent, making Ilya scrunch up his nose. He can’t stand the sour smell of fear compared to the love and desire and life he usually smells in Shane’s blood.

“I—Ilya?” Shane stammers, eyes wide. “What… what are you.. What is happening?”

How could he begin to answer that question? Shane will never look at him the same again. He certainly won’t let Ilya touch him, let alone have sex again. He takes a breath he doesn’t need, pressing a hand to his chest. His fangs retract but his eyes are still golden, betraying his hunger.

Shane scrambles backwards, his panic making him more clumsy than he already is. He grabs his shirt and fumbles back into it with trembling hands. “You… you did something to me. You—”

“No!” He says. “I haven’t, I just wanted to..” He blinks, willing his golden eyes to return to blue. “Shane, listen to me.” 

Shane is already scrambling for the door, pulling his breeches back on while he hops. “You tricked me, was this all fake? Did you glamour me?”

“I didn’t,” Ilya says again, rising from the bed, hands raised in placating motion. “You need to understand…”

Shane freezes, hand on the door knob. Ilya moves closer, slowly, trying not to appear as a predator. “I haven’t fed in….” Ilya’s voice caught slightly, raw honesty bleeding through centuries of control. “Too long. Your scent… it’s…”

Shane’s eyes go wide. “You’re… a vampire?”

Ilya exhales slowly, he’s honestly mildly amused. Ilya didn’t think he was hiding his desperate hunger very well. “Yes,” he says quietly. “But I wouldn’t… I won’t hurt you.”

Shane backs up further, pressed against the door, his whole body trembling ever so slightly. “I… I don’t—I don’t know…”

Ilya steps closer. Carefully and deliberately. “You’re not under an enchantment.”

Shane’s breath catches. “Then… Why did your fangs..?”

“I almost lost control,” Ilya admits. His voice was low, honest. “You kissed me. And I haven’t fed in decades. I—” He shakes his head, running a hand through his curls. “I didn’t want to… and I won’t. You just… Startled me.”

Shane’s chest heaves, fear fluttering through him. But Ilya can smell curiosity and maybe even.. Could it be… Longing?

Ilya’s eyes are still golden, he can feel it. “You are safe here, I promise.” He watches as Shane relaxes a little, his hands falling to his sides. His words seem to reach Shane. For a moment at least. 

Shane raises an eyebrow and walks quickly towards the window, he touches the window. It’s cold but still. “Wait..” He says, voice low, almost trembling. “Is the storm even real?”

Ilya steps silently behind him, he can hear Shane’s pulse spike. “No,” Ilya admits quietly, it’s truth time. “It isn’t.”

Shane’s eyes widen. Ilya lifts his hand and the illusion vanishes. Outside, the forest was still. The ground might be damp but the sky is clear. It’s night but not a cloud in the sky.

“I…” Shane falters, his heart hammering. “So… you made the storm?”

“Yes,” Ilya’s voice is soft, he tries to apologise but he knows there is no excuse. There is no way out of the lie. “I wanted you to stay inside. You cannot leave in the darkness. There are… worse things than me waiting beyond these walls.”

Shane’s stance shows that he wants to run, the moment is completely gone. Shane will never forgive him. Ilya reaches out his hand in a last ditch attempt. 

“I… I can’t—” Shane begins.

“You can,” Ilya said gently, “I’ll give you space. I won’t come near you. You can explore, wander… just don’t leave. Not tonight.”

Shane nods. The night is dark and dangerous, Shane knows this. He’s not foolish enough to leave in the dead of night. “As soon as the sun comes up.” 

What’s left of Ilya’s heart breaks watching Shane walk away. 

Shane moves down the hall in a chaotic clumsy run, trying to escape the terror in his mind. He let a vampire close to him. He let a vampire seduce him. How could he be so stupid. He needs clarity, it’s going to come in the form of his lord in waiting. 

Hayden’s door is ajar, candlelight flickers through the gap. Shane pushes it open. 

Hayden is laying on his back on his bed, loosely wrapped in a sheet. His eyes are glassy and he’s smiling faintly. Loopy. 

“Hayden?” Shane asks, stepping fully inside.

“I… uh…” Hayden giggles, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Svetlana… She told me stories. Beautiful… stories. About deserts, markets, cities that sing at night…”

Oh god. Ilya might not have hypnotised him but they’ve done a number on Hayden. Un fucking believable. They didn’t seem to have put Hayden in danger but they’ve also been reckless with his mind. 

“Okay buddy, I’m looking after you.” Shane says quietly, his fingers brush Hayden’s shoulder. “You need rest.” 

Hayden’s eyes flutter closed. “Thanks, Shaney.” He murmurs. He starts to giggle lightly. “Why is the world so strange tonight?” 

“God, come’ere.” Shane pulls Hayden into his arms and brushes his hair away from his face. It doesn’t take long for Hayden to start snoring, hopefully he comes back to himself when he wakes up. 

Shane looks up, expecting to see Ilya but there’s no one there. He can feel his presence throughout the castle. It will get better when he leaves tomorrow, no more temptation.  

Outside, the forest remains impossibly dark. And Shane knew, even if he didn’t fully understand, that nothing in the night was quite as it seemed.

And worse things than vampires? He had no doubt now that they exist and that he is already trapped among them.

Chapter 5: Pure

Chapter Summary

Ilya crosses a line

Chapter Notes

Hi guys! I've been a bit slow lately but here is the next chapter, a tiny bit of smut but this chapter is mostly about blood.

Sleep eludes Shane. 

He looks up at the ceiling, following the bricks with his eyes. The candlelight is flickering across the walls of their room. Hayden is beside him, tossing and turning. He’s murmuring in his sleep. 

He slips out of the bed, careful not to wake Hayden. He walks barefoot through the quiet corridors of the castle. He finds an unfamiliar part of the castle, it’s the kitchen. This must be where Ilya prepared their food. Such a weird thing. Ilya was happy to present the food he made, proud even. 

Shane sighs, he can’t think about that right now. He needs to forget about Ilya. About the vampire who wanted to trap him here and drink his blood. There’s a door framed by moonlight in the corner of the kitchen, it must lead to the outside. He opens the door and is greeted by the cool and fragrant night air. 

The garden at night is like nothing Shane has seen before. 

Tiny lights dance between the branches, sparks of green, blue and gold. The garden fairies are delicate and luminous, they weave in and out of the air, leaving patterns of light behind. The sight brings a gasp to Shane’s lips. 

He’s seen magic before, of course, but not like this. It’s wild and intimate, every flutter of wings paints the sky in stars. Shane watches them, the smell of wet earth reminds him of winters in Montreal. 

He wanders, trying to keep his mind at ease. The fairies follow around, keeping him in the light. His hands brush against different leaves as he passes. A few deep breaths and his shoulders drop, his tension lifts. But not for long.

A rustle draws his attention. 

Ilya is here, he’s standing at the edge of the fountain. His sharp features are illuminated by fairy light. He’s still in black, always in black it seems. 

Shane’s heart skips a beat, he presses a hand to his heart in surprise.

Ilya looks away abruptly, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“What, you didn’t smell my blood?” Shane snaps, he doesn’t mean it. The way Ilya’s face drops.. It makes Shane’s stomach turn. 

“I apologize.” Ilya turns and vanishes into the shadows, there’s only the faint rustle of leaves to indicate that he was ever here.

Shane exhales and takes a few steps forward. “No, wait.” He calls softly. “Ilya, come back.” 

Moments later, Ilya reappears. He seems hesitant, his eyes are uncertain. Shane watches him run a hand through his hair. Is that a blush on his cheeks? It can’t be, he’s a vampire. He murmurs in a low voice, “You didn’t need to call me.” 

Shane steps closer, into the fairy light. He shouldn’t be talking to Ilya. Shouldn’t even be looking at him. He can’t help himself. “I wanted to.” There’s a heat in his cheeks, he presses the back of his cold hand and pushes it against his cheeks. He’s blushing. How humiliating, even so, he continues. “I… I don’t even know your story. I don’t know anything about you.”

Ilya tilts his head, watching him. “Then let me tell you about myself.” He says softly. “I am older than you could imagine, I’ve been a vampire for over 250 years.”

Shane blinks, his jaw dropping. He knew that vampires were immortal but Ilya is standing there, looking so young. Looking the same age as Shane. Not a sign of aging on his skin. “Two… Fifty?” 

“Yes.” Ilya’s eyes are still golden, Shane is positive they were blue when they first met. He looks wary. “I became a vampire not long after Svetlana. She was a few years older, a few years before me. We… We were lovers at one point. Centuries ago.”

Shane swallows, captivated, and worse… Jealous maybe. “And now?”

“Now,” Ilya says quietly, “she has… other companions. Human lovers, she is happy. We are happy. But—” He looked away for a long moment, voice quieter, tinged with something almost painful. “I have been with many women, so funny and beautiful, they surround me.” Shane’s stomach twists, fierce tears prick at his eyes. “But, I am… lonely.” 

That’s unexpected, Shane isn’t sure how to respond. Ilya’s expression has softened. He’s not done talking yet, Shane keeps quiet. 

“For decades, I’ve fed only on animals. It is… Sufficient. But fuck, it’s nothing like how human blood used to taste.”

“Then why did you stop?” Shane whispers, unable to hold the question in. 

Ilya holds one arm in the other, he perches on the edge of the fountain. He runs his fingers through the water, he refuses to meet Shane’s gaze. “I have killed people. It was cruel and selfish but I couldn’t control it. Soon, I lost the urge. I haven’t even thought of a human. Until..” 

Shane’s throat is dry, he thinks he knows where the conversation is going but.. “Until?”

Ilya finally meets Shane’s gaze, in his eyes, he’s raw and entirely honest. Open even. “Until you arrived.” 

Shane falls silent, the sound of tiny fairy wings fills the silence. Soft light is reflecting on Ilya’s pale skin. Suddenly Ilya looks older, like the weight of centuries of loneliness is on his shoulders. But he’s strong. Full of desire and history. Shane has never met someone like him, so animated and yet so achingly alone. 

Ilya steps closer, even though he’s cold, Shane could swear he can feel heat coming from him.

“I do not mean to frighten you,” Ilya says. “You must understand… I have existed far longer than most things you know. I have watched kingdoms rise, fall, and crumble into dust. Seen magical creatures emerge, fade, and vanish entirely. And in all that time… you are the first to awaken something I thought long dead.”

Shane brushes his fingers against the railing of the fountain, he’s trembling but edging closer to Ilya. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing,” Ilya says, his voice has a hint of command in it. It sends a shiver down his spine. Before Shane can spiral into that thought, Ilya continues, “Just be here, stay, for tonight.” 

The answer seems clear. The fairies are dancing around them like sparks of living starlight, there’s this feeling in Shane’s chest, like belonging. Shane knows it’s crazy but he nods. Allowing himself to stay in a vampire's lair. 

Shane exhales shakily, his head is pressed against the pillow, hands gripping the pillowcase. He’s on his side. Ilya is behind him, his hand running up and down Shane’s thigh. Ilya is inside him. His hard cock pressed right inside Shane, their bodies flush. “Ilya..” Shane whispers. 

“Mmm?” Ilya replies in a grumble. 

“This is real right?” Shane whispers, grabbing Ilya’s hand on his thigh. 

Ilya looks up at him, straining to stay still, his muscles flexing. He looks so deep into Shane’s eyes that Shane has to look away. “Yes.” He says with no hesitation. 

Shane presses a hand to the side of Ilya’s face. “Please fuck me.” 

Ilya groans and runs his hands up and down Shane’s leg again, he grabs Shane’s knee and holds him for a moment so he can start thrusting. 

God it’s good, there’s nothing like it. Shane moans over and over. He throws his head back and grips the pillow, needing something to hold on to as Ilya thrusts. He’s so deep inside. He’s so powerful. There is nothing in the world that feels like this, it’s so bad but he could never let this go. 

Ilya is looking at him, watching him closely. Shane can barely think with those deep eyes watching him and the repeated thrusts. Ilya sits up a little, just enough to bring Shane’s nipple into his mouth. He runs his tongue over it and gently brings it between his teeth. 

Oh my god it’s almost too much, he didn’t even know it was a sensation he could have. He whispers Ilya’s name. It feels so right in his mouth. 

Ilya wraps his arm around Shane’s stomach and turns them over, keeping his cock deep inside. It happens so quickly Shane’s head spins. He forgot for a second that Ilya is a vampire with super speed and strength. 

Shane clings tight to his pillow, instinctively he raises his ass and lowers his head. He exhales slowly and relaxes into Ilya. It’s so easy to trust him. So easy to be vulnerable. He feels Ilya’s large, cold hand pressing down between his shoulder blades. 

“Is okay?” Ilya groans. 

Shane whines. “Jesus.. Yes.” 

Ilya’s other hand grips Shane’s hips as he thrusts, slow to start. Then faster. 

Shane’s eyes flutter closed, just feeling it. The heat building in his body, the tingling spreading from his fingers to his toes. His own cock neglected, hitting his stomach as Ilya pounds him. It doesn’t even occur to him to touch himself. The heat builds nonetheless. Ilya goes faster, moaning loudly with each thrust. “Shane..” 

Shane’s past the point of no return, his heat builds until it has nowhere to go and then, untouched, he releases. He moans loudly, nonsense spilling from his lips. “Oh god.. Ilya oh god Ilya… Oh god.. I can’t…” 

“Are you?” Ilya realises what’s happening. “Oh god Shane..” He thrusts harder and faster for a few more seconds until he too cums inside Shane. “Ohh.. Oh.” 

Shane can hear him, feel his hand pressing against the back of Shane’s head. His rough fingers massaging Shane’s scalp. It feels so fucking good, Shane is spent, his body going limp. He tries to breathe but it’s like he’s forgotten.  

“I’ve got you.” Ilya whispers. 

It’s quiet again. 

Shane and Ilya still feel like one, their legs tangled in the sheets. Shane’s sweat is cooling on his skin, his breath uneven. He runs his hands through Ilya’s curls, his chest is rising and falling and yet Ilya stays pressed against his chest. Going with the breaths. Shane is unreasonably happy, he’s satisfied and relaxed, his brain isn’t bothering him for once. He can just be. 

Ilya is quick to break the moment, he lifts up, rising onto his elbows. His eyes are still golden but a tinge of red is turning them orange. “I should go,” he murmurs, his voice clearly strained. 

Shane’s brow furrows, now? He wants to leave now? But.. Did he hate it? “Now?” Shane asks in a shaky voice. 

“I can’t stay..” Ilya hisses. Then he growls, faint but undeniable. “I need to feed.” 

The hairs on Shane’s arms rise, his heart hammering. He’s anxious but not about Ilya needing to feed, it’s that he doesn’t want Ilya to feed on another human. “Would you..” He hesitates but then swallows, he needs to be bold or Ilya is going to go out and kill an animal or worse, a human. He’s been so vulnerable already, splayed out for Ilya. What’s a little more vulnerability? “Drink me?” 

Ilya’s hands ball up in fists, he rips holes in the sheets. His eyes are a mix of hunger, restraint and fear. “I don’t know if I can control it.

Shane takes a shaky breath. He leans over and touches Ilya’s balled up hand. “I trust you.” He says softly. “I think you care about me, and if I'm right, you can control yourself. I hope it’s not just me.” 

Ilya’s lips part, his fangs glinting in the firelight. He loosens his grip on the sheets. He hesitates before settling beside Shane, he moves closer. 

Shane watches him, his hands fiddle anxiously. He takes some calming breaths. Ilya does care about him doesn’t he? He won’t hurt him. Do fangs hurt? Will he get dizzy? Oh god Ilya just do it already. He leans his head to the side, showing Ilya his neck and his soft tanned skin. 

Ilya kisses Shane’s neck lightly, his teeth lightly scratching Shane’s skin. It’s electric. Warm spreading through his body. He bites his lower lip and waits impatiently for the bite. 

Ilya sinks his teeth in.

Shane gasps, the sensation was overwhelming. Pleasure radiated through him like fire and ice, a dizzying, consuming mix. The taste, the warmth, the feel of Ilya drinking — it was heady, terrifying, addictive.

Ilya’s hands grip his shoulders, shaking as he drinks. The hunger he’s held back for so long has exploded in the most exquisite way. He groans, an inhuman groan. His fangs press deeper, savouring the taste. His skin seems to glow and transform, he’s less pale, warmth spreading through him and colour blooming in his cheeks. 

Shane can feel the rush flowing through him, pleasure coiled with pain. It’s dangerous and intoxicating. Nothing like how he imagined. 

“Shane..” Ilya breathes, pulling back slightly, his fangs are still grazing Shane’s skin. He’s trembling again. “I.. God, I-” 

Shane presses his hand to the back of Ilya’s head, tangling his fingers in the golden curls. His voice is ragged. “I—I’m here… I trust you…”

Ilya’s control teeters, struggling to pull away. The connection as well as the taste. But Shane’s heartbeat is slowing a little. He pulls back with barely contained restraint. He tears himself away, letting Shane’s skin glisten with the faint traces of his kiss and his bite. His fangs retract. 

He staggers back towards the doorway, painting. His messy curls are falling across his flushed cheeks. “I—” he whispers, voice hoarse. “I cannot… Do this. I can’t..” He vanishes in a blink of Shane’s eyes. 

Shane’s chest is heaving, his fingers brush against the spot where Ilya had bitten him, still tingling. He lays back on the back, his heart hammering and body buzzing. He’s confused but god how he wants Ilya. He wants to be bitten, he wants to be fucked. He wants to be loved. Loved by the man who consumed him in more ways than one. 

But he can’t. His men will be ready to leave in the morning. He could hardly ask them to stay here. 

Ilya’s boots echo sharply on his polished stone as he races down the corridor, as fast as lightning. He doesn’t knock, he pushes past Svetlana’s half closed door and stops as quickly as he started. 

She stirs, rising from the darkness of her coffin-like bed. Her eyes, luminous even in the shadows, meet his. “Ilya?” She murmurs, half asleep.  

He’s frozen in the doorway, the faint crimson stains on his hands, lips and collar catch the candlelight. 

Her nose wrinkles. “Oh no,” she sighs, despite her words, there’s slight amusement in her tone. “What did you do?” 

Ilya races to the edge of her coffin and perches on the edge. The coffin is probably the most ornate one owned by any vampire, black velvet, fluffy pillow and double wide. Over the top but very Svetlana. Ilya’s shoulders slump, his fangs glinting as he lowers his head. “Shane,” he whispers. “I… I fed. I didn’t mean to! But he.. He let me, he trusted me. Maybe he even wanted me.” 

Svetlana’s eyes soften, her voice carries that sharp, commanding clarity that he both feared and revered. “I can smell it, all over you.”

“I can’t control it.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I can’t stop thinking about him. The pull.. It’s more than his blood, Sveta. It’s everything. I don’t just want to taste him, I-” He stops abruptly, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I am, this seems so stupid.” 

Svetlana tilts her head, regarding him carefully. “Ah,” she says knowingly. “So this is what it feels like to be in love as a vampire.” 

Ilya’s eyes are blue again, since the blood settled inside him. Those deep blue eyes widen. “Love?” 

“Humans,” she says softly, settling back against her bed. “They are fragile. Their feelings are like glass. Gentle. Easily broken. And yet… sometimes, they are enough to make the centuries of hunger and restraint worth it. You’ve crossed a line tonight, Ilya. But if you’re careful, you can love him.”

He clenches his fists. “I can’t stop wanting him, and the feeding…” He exhales, releasing his fists. “It wasn’t just blood, it was better because it was him.” 

Svetlana’s lips quirk. “And there it is, do you understand now?” 

Ilya’s gaze drops to his blood stained hands. “I.. Yes. I think I’m in love with him.” 

“Then you know what you need to do,” She places a hand on his arm. “Be careful, protect him, respect him. Do not deny yourself either. You can’t undo what you’ve started and neither of you would want to.”

Ilya closes his eyes, taking her words to heart. The weight of centuries, hunger, restraint and loneliness feels like it’s lifted just enough to breathe. He’s taking the weight and turning it into something new. Something dangerous but exhilarating. It brings him a sense of peace. 

He opens his eyes again. “I will protect him,” he whispers, determined. “I will love him.” 

Svetlana smiles. “Good. Let him sleep, let him breathe. Remember this feeling. It’s yours for this moment.” Then she punches his arm. “Now go to bed and let me sleep too.” 

Ilya chuckles and ruffles her hair, knowing it pisses her off. But he follows her instructions. Back in his own coffin now, he closes his eyes and feels.

Chapter 6: Hurt

Chapter Summary

Shane's time at the castle gets extended by fate.

Chapter Notes

Love you all, thanks for reading. Vampires are my favourite monsters and man do I love writing them, I'm still learning how to write Shane and Ilya but I hope I do them justice <3

The first pale light of morning filters through the tall windows, casting long, quiet shadows across the stone floors of the castle.

Shane dresses silently, getting ready to help his men prepare for the journey home. He knows how he should feel but the tears brewing in his eyes tell him something very different. There’s this hollow ache in his chest, something Shane hasn’t felt before. He touches his neck, remembering Ilya’s gasps, his tight grip on Shane, his wild eyes. He knows he should leave. He knows Ilya is the dark and beautiful temptation he was warned about. But, the pull he feels is undeniable. Still there is no reason to stay. 

He pauses at the doorway, hand resting lightly on the cold stone. Shane lets out a quiet sigh. How he wants more…

Horses paw impatiently outside the gates, and the forest beyond shimmers in the morning mist. It’s magical as always. 

He closes his eyes, taking a last moment. 

It doesn’t last long. 

Behind Shane, in the foyer, boots and hooves are clattering around. His men are dragging their bags down the stairs. Hayden is still a little dazed from Svetlana’s subtle enchantment, he’s rubbing at his forehead and staggering around with his bag. Marleau is rushing around with bags and jackets and reins, back and forth. 

Suddenly a sharp crack splits the air. 

Shane turns immediately. He’s missed the initial collision but it’s clear what happened. Marleau and Hayden ran into each other, Hayden took the brunt of the hit and he ended up down on the floor, a soft gasp leaving his lips. 

“Hayden!” Shane shouts, heart lurching as he runs to his friend’s side. 

Marleau’s face drops, panic flooding his features. “I—I’m so sorry, milord! I didn’t see—”

Hayden is whimpering and groaning, clutching his collarbone. 

Shane can feel bile rising in this throat, his stomach churning with panic and guilt. His mind is spinning with worse case scenarios. 

Ilya appears without warning, stepping into the foyer like he had materialized from the shadows themselves. His eyes scan the scene, calm and precise. “Move aside,” he said softly but firmly. Leaving no room for protest. He lifts Hayden effortlessly, cradling him in his strong arms. “Marleau, summon the local apothecary,” Ilya says, “And a wizard to check the bones.” 

Marleau’s legs shake, panicking. “I’m so sorry, Milord! Please forgive me! I didn’t mean-”

Svetlana appears, graceful and commanding, she places a hand on Marleau’s massive shoulder. “Enough.” She says, cutting through his panic. “You will calm yourself or you will do nothing at all. Let’s go and summon the help.” Marleau follows reluctantly, muttering apologies. 

Shane’s eyes are fixed on Ilya, who was walking calmly toward the hearth, setting Hayden down carefully on a chaise near the fire. Shane can feel the tension in the room ease slightly under Ilya’s presence.

Shane moves to his friend’s side, he slides down to the floor beside him. “Hang in there, Hayden.” He murmurs, brushing damp hair from his forehead. His hands tremble slightly as he checks that Hayden is breathing steadily despite the pain. 

Ilya lingers by the doorway, arms folded, his eyes flicking over to Shane. He keeps a distance. That doesn’t stop Shane from feeling the aura of control and power, not to mention the warmth. 

Shane’s fingers graze Hayden’s hand, silently grateful for the strength and speed that Ilya displayed but the pang in his chest remains. He’s still set on leaving. He can’t let himself fall prey more than he already has. But as he looks down at Hayden, cradled carefully on the chaise. His eyebrows are scrunched in pain, tears start falling down his cheeks as he strains to hold in the pain. Shane can’t bear to see his friend in so much pain, he holds Hayden’s hand, his stomach tightening. He has to stay here, for Hayden’s sake. He won’t be able to travel for a while. 

They’re tethered to the castle once more, but this time, by the look of horror on Marleau’s face, this isn’t intentional by Ilya. He knows Shane would never forgive him if he intentionally hurt Hayden. 

The knock comes softly at the main doors, barely audible over the faint crackle of the hearth and the pounding of Shane’s heart in his ears. 

The wizard looks like a 40 something man shrouded in a cloak threaded with faint runes, his beard is long and curly with a mustache that seems to defy gravity. At his side is a person of indistinct gender carrying bundles of herbs and potions in a large black bag tossed over their shoulder. The apothecary no doubt. They came quickly, must live nearby. 

The wizard kneels beside Hayden who stirs when the man examines him. “Easy there, lad.” Beneath Hayden’s shirt, a large bruise is forming across his collarbone. “Broken.” He whispers to the apothecary.

“Herbs, poultices, and magic,” the apothecary mutters, beginning to grind leaves and mix powders in a small mortar. “We’ll ease the pain and speed the healing, but a broken collarbone will not mend overnight. He won’t be traveling for… at least six days.”

Six days? 

That’s six days tethered to the castle, to Ilya’s hungry gaze. Six days Shane needs to resist the pull. 

Shane leans closer to Hayden, ignoring his own worries and focusing on others. Something he does best. “You’ll be okay.” He tells Hayden, brushing his hair back again. “We’ll get through this.” 

Hayden’s head lolls slightly, his eyes half lidded from the herbal poultices and the soft magic weaving through his veins. “I… I feel… strange,” he whispers. “But better.”

Svetlana makes her way over, her heels slicking on the floor. She seems to feel bad for him. Her eyes flick over to Hayden’s cheek and the faint redness of a small cut.  

Shane notes the way her nostrils flare, just slightly, and the subtle tension in her posture.

“You’re doing well,” she says, voice calm but low. She leans closer, brushing her fingers lightly over the wound, and Shane notices her lips parting almost imperceptibly, a faint glimmer of hunger in her eyes. “I… need to step out,” she murmurs, straightening. “The cut is tempting.” She gives Ilya a glance, he nods back at her. 

Shane’s heart is thumping in his chest. “You… you’re going out to feed?” he asks, voice tight.

“I’ll be discreet,” she replies, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Shane feels a note of dread as he watches her disappear, knowing exactly what she’s going to do. They must have a way to go out even in the daytime to drink. He’s not going to question that right now, he needs to be there for Hayden. 

He talks to Hayden, even though his best friend is fading in and out of consciousness. “Six days,” he whispers. “We’re stuck here for six days…”

Ilya’s lips curved faintly, almost imperceptibly he approaches the couch and looks down at Shane. “Long enough,” he says, voice low, almost a growl, “for you to understand what you want… and what you cannot resist.”

Shane swallows. Hayden stirs lightly beside him, eyes fluttering open. Shane catches his gaze, forces himself to focus, and murmurs, “We’ll get through this… together.” He chooses to ignore what Ilya just said. Why would he say that? 

Ilya doesn’t seem to know why either, he lost control. 

Six days.  

~~Day one~~

Ilya watches Shane pacing silently near the window, watching the pale morning light filter through the high arches of the castle. Last night, after the wizard and apothecary left, Ilya carried Hayden gently back to his room and laid him on his bed. He slept fitfully through the night, the herbs and magic keep him comfortable but immobile. 

Shane’s hands are twisted together, his mind swimming with worry. The scent of Shane’s anxiety was sharp, a tangible weight in the air, and Ilya could not bear it. He steps out of the shadows, silent as a shadow himself, and catches Shane’s gaze. He can’t believe what he had said to Shane last night, Hayden needed him and Ilya decided to push him. Against Svetlana’s advice and his own common sense. “You’re too tense.” Ilya says softly, the low timbre of his voice threading through the hall. “Come with me.”

Shane hesitates but he does follow, Ilya can smell the curiosity in his blood. Ilya leads him through the corridors lined with flickering torches to a private chamber, one filled with dark tapestries, velvet drapes, and faint traces of perfume and cedar. “Sit,” Ilya says, gesturing to a chair near the fire. “Tell me. How can I help?”

Shane flops into one of the large round seats, running a hand over his face. “It’s Hayden… and the mission… and… I don’t know what to do with myself while he’s like this.”

Ilya’s eyes soften. “You pace like a trapped tiger, it doesn’t help anyone.” He steps closer, hands brushing lightly over the edge of the desk. “You should try to relax, I can help.”

Shane doesn’t respond so Ilya just starts. 

“You want to find diamonds, yes? Tell me, what makes you think you can survive the journey?”

Shane frowns, bristling. “Because I plan. Because I have men. Because I—” He catches himself. “I have… strategy.”

Ilya’s lips quirk. “Strategy? Darling, most adventurers who come seeking wealth are devoured by nature, bandits, or magical creatures long before they see a glint of stone. Do you really think your plans will protect you?”

Shane’s pulse quickens, half from irritation, half from the thrill of being teased. “I don’t need protection from magical creatures. I can handle them.”

“Oh, can you?” Ilya raises a brow, letting the golden light catch the glint of his fangs when he smiles faintly. “You seem rather… human to me. Fragile. You know, the type of flesh these lands favour as lunch.”

Shane laughs despite himself, shaking his head. “You’re enjoying this far too much. And anyway, I have Hayden. He’s strong.”

Ilya leaned closer, voice dropping slightly, teasing but pointed. “Ah yes, the human companion. How noble. How predictable.” He let a pause hang, his gaze flicking over Shane’s jawline just a fraction longer than necessary. “Tell me, does your strong companion plan to swing a sword at enchanted wolves while you hide behind him?”

Shane’s face heats. “I… I can fight. I can—” He swallows. “I can handle myself.”

Ilya laughs, soft and low, leaning a little closer, just enough that Shane could feel the tension. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. I merely enjoy watching humans think they are clever. Especially ones with such… handsome features.”

Shane blinks, throat tightening, a blush creeping over his neck and cheeks. “You… you’re impossible.”

“And you,” Ilya says, tilting his head, “are far too easy.” He’s thrilled to smell the heat again in Shane, the lightness in his blood. 

Shane groans, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to ignore the way Ilya’s presence makes him a little dizzy. “Do you ever get tired of being… dangerous?”

“Dangerous?” Ilya repeats, letting the word roll off his tongue like silk. “Darling, I am not dangerous. I am inevitable.”

Shane couldn’t help another laugh that bubbles out of him, shaking his head. “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“Every moment,” Ilya says simply, eyes softening slightly, just enough for Shane to feel caught in them. “But don’t think for a second I’m not capable of boredom. Tell me, Shane… what’s truly more dangerous than enchanted wolves and treacherous forests?”

Shane hesitates, heat rising in his chest, unsure why he felt the answer flutter on his tongue. “Me,” Shane whispers, before he can stop himself.

Ilya chuckles and shakes his head, this sweet man has a naughty side huh? When Ilya can drag out his confidence anyway. Somehow it makes him even more attractive. He licks his lips. “I think you’ll find that a bored vampire is far more dangerous than a beautiful human with cute freckles.”

“Are you serious?” Shane asks, laughing along. He smacks Ilya’s arm playfully. 

“Yes,” Ilya replies, letting a smile curl across his lips. “But some truths are… embellished.”

Shane shakes his head while laughing, the melodic sounds of their laughs seem to thread into the stone, bouncing off the walls and tapestries.

Without warning, Ilya’s desire comes back. He can't help his eyes flicking to Shane’s throat, his lips slightly parted as Shane laughs. His voice is so beautiful, so tempting. He licks his lips. 

Shane leans back in his chair, his laugh fading as the air around them becomes serious again. His fingers brush nervously over the armrests, heart hammering in his chest. Ilya can hear it.

Ilya steps closer, his longing pressing against the fine line of consent. Shane’s laughter from their earlier banter still echoes faintly in Ilya’s mind, bright and light, and it drives him nearly mad. He’s going to have to leave, now. Unless…

“I—” Shane begins, voice small, hesitant. “I… you can… if you want… but—”

“I will not hurt you,” Ilya murmurs, voice low, a growl of barely contained hunger vibrating through it. “I promise. But you… you make it difficult to restrain myself.”

Shane swallows, cheeks flushing. “I… I trust you.”

That’s all Ilya needs.

He bends forward, slow, deliberate, letting Shane see the glint of his fangs. Showing him who he is. But Shane doesn’t shy away from him. This time, instead of his neck, he takes Shane’s left wrist and tilts it. Shane’s eyes widen, those deep beautiful brown eyes are almost pleading. He gives a nod of consent. 

God. The first touch of Shane’s skin against Ilya’s lips, it sends a shiver through them both. The head coils in his stomach as Ilya traced his pulse with his tongue. Shane’s head falls back to the chair. He sighs, his scent becoming desire as he melts already before Ilya even bites him. How is he so fucking perfect? He’s so beautiful it destroys him in the best way. Ilya groans, the intense burn of hunger is so strong, the pounding of Shane’s pulse against his lips.. Shane shivers. 

“You’re exquisite,” Ilya murmurs lovingly, his golden eyes never leaving Shane’s flushed face. “Delicate. Bright. Too much… and I will make you ill. Too little… and I will want more than I can control.”

Shane lets out a soft, trembling laugh, his wrist curling gently in Ilya’s hand. “Then… just enough,” he whispers.

Ilya’s fangs graze the tender pulse, his hands tightening on Shane’s arm. He’s starting to enjoy the painful torture of holding himself back before biting but he doesn’t want to make Shane nervous. More than usual anyway. He bites down into Shane’s wrists, taking a deep drink of hot, sweet blood. 

Shane’s head rolls further back, lips parting, chest rising and falling rapidly, until every muscle relaxes in an almost weightless surrender.

Ilya draws back after a heartbeat, just enough, as promised. His fangs retract, lips brushing Shane’s wrist one last time. He sighs, shaking slightly, gold eyes luminous with a mixture of satisfaction, guilt, and longing. Until the gold fades and blue shines. “I… I cannot stay,” he murmurs, voice low, growling softly under the restraint of centuries. “Not yet.”

Shane’s body is having a clear reaction, more so than Ilya thought possible. He’s disheveled and chest heaving, his cock is very hard, straining against his pants. He’s looking at Ilya with a mix of awe, trust and desire. 

Ilya steps back, golden curls falling over his eyes, and turns to the shadows. He should leave, he should run. But god look at him. Look at Shane, desperate for him, so painfully hard just from Ilya drinking his blood. Shit. 

Ilya leans over, pressing his lips against Shane’s in a kiss that was tender and urgent. Shane’s hands go to Ilya’s shoulders, then chest, exploring, pressing closer, letting himself fall into the dark gravity that is Ilya. 

Suddenly Shane’s breath catches, a soft and shaky laugh escapes him as Ilya deepens the kiss. If it was anyone else, Ilya might be offended but Ilya can feel the joy inside Shane. He’s so happy. It makes him smell divine but it doesn’t make Ilya hungry this time, just.. Yep there it is, his cock is hardening.  

How the chair is still holding them is a mystery to Ilya, a centuries old chair holding a beautiful human prince and a vampire on it. 

Ilya sinks to his knees instead, taking the weight off the chair. He runs his hands up Shane’s thighs before hooking his thumbs into Shane’s pants and pulling them down just enough to expose his hard leaking cock. Ilya licks his lips again, hungry for something very different this time. He looks up at Shane, Shane’s panting, his eyes wild. He nods. 

Ilya brings Shane into this mouth and starts sucking, his tongue traces the thick veins and he closes his eyes. There’s the tingling of blood lust behind this close to Shane’s femoral artery. But that’s far less than the foggy pull of desire. He bobs back and forth, letting Shane’s cock hit the back of his throat. Oh those sounds coming from his lips, the desperate moans. He reaches a hand up and massages Shane’s pec, his finger running over his nipple. 

“Wait, I'm gonna..” Shane can’t finish his sentence. Ilya keeps going, trying to pull the release from Shane’s body. Suddenly he stiffens, his hand comes down to grip Ilya’s hair tightly. “Oh god.. Ilya!” He yelps as he cums.  

Ilya sucks him down, he wishes he could keep it inside but he has to spit it out. He wipes his face with a handkerchief from his pocket. 

“Oh Ilya…” Shane whispers. 

Ilya smiles and stands up, he puts one hand either side of Shane and bends down to kiss him gently. 

Shane wraps his arms tightly around Ilya’s back and kisses him deeply, afraid to let go. Ilya picks Shane up effortlessly and holds him close. “Do you want to go back to your chamber?” Ilya asks with a groan. 

Shane nods. “Mhmm.” That’s as long as he can stand not kissing Ilya. He leans forward, kissing his cheek, his neck his lips. Without vampire speed, Ilya isn’t sure he’d make it all the way to Shane’s room before stripping them both down and making love to him in every corner of the house. 

Chapter 7: Past

Chapter Summary

Ilya never knew this would happen.

Chapter Notes

Two chapters in one day! I'm really inspired tonight.

~~Day two~~

Shane and Ilya had spent the day in bed together, overnight they lay in each other’s arms and spent the day enjoying each other’s company. Ilya only took one small drink from Shane, he couldn’t resist the throbbing vein on his inner thigh. 

The second night was still, Hayden was asleep and recovering nicely, Shane’s men were helping Marleau cook dinner down in the kitchen. Ilya needed a break from Shane’s overwhelming scent, just a short one to gather his bearings. He checked on the horses in the stable and noted a distant storm to the west, nothing to worry about. He’s back inside, wandering the dark corridors in his castle. He admires every little detail that he hadn’t noticed before, meeting Shane has given him a thirst for life as well as blood. He smiles, running his fingertips along the stone. 

The creak of the front door opening takes Ilya’s attention. He turns around. A flicker of movement catches his eye, someone is here, resting on Ilya’s chaise lounge.  

“Sasha?”

Another vampire, his hair is dark and straight, his hair reaches his shoulders. His eyes are dark and skin pure as white snow. He’s like a shadow of a memory. His smile is sharp and predatory, his fangs exposed. Fifty years have passed but the younger vampire's arrogance and danger of the volatile man hasn’t dimmed even a little. 

“Ilya,” Sasha purrs, stepping closer. “You didn’t expect me back so soon, did you?”

Ilya’s jaw tightens. “You need to leave,” he said firmly, voice low but firm, careful not to provoke.

Sasha’s laugh is soft and dangerous. “Leave? Come on now, we both know you love this, you want this.” He steps closer, reaching a hand towards Ilya, brushing his shoulder in a move that’s both intimate and predatory. 

Ilya recoils a little, shaking his head. “Not here, not tonight. You can’t.” Oh god Shane, his men. They’re all in serious danger. This man needs to leave. 

“You’re afraid of me,” Sasha whispers, voice sultry. His eyes are flicking around, he must smell the humans here, vaguely. 

“I am not afraid of you,” Ilya snaps, though his pulse picks up. “I am very afraid of what you might do. I am not letting you in.”

Sasha grins, “Hmm I thought I smelled blood, you have new interests Ilya? How quaint, how.. Human.” 

Ilya grits his teeth, he could feel Sasha’s constant hunger and his unsteady control. If he catches even a whiff of Shane.. If he smells Ilya all over him… Ilya couldn’t guarantee that Shane will ever be safe again. Sasha will hunt him. 

“You have to go,” Ilya hisses, stepping between Sasha and the stairwell that led to the guest rooms. “Now!”

Sasha leans forward, his voice soft and coaxing, his hands brush Ilya’s chest. “You used to love this,” he murmurs, his dark red eyes glittering with malice and desire. “We both did.”

Ilya’s stomach twists. He remembers, yes, the reckless nights, the thrill of being desired, the intoxicating pull of Sasha’s touch. But that was decades ago. He shakes his head. “I don’t. I cannot. You are dangerous, unpredictable. And you can’t be here.”

Sasha tilts his head, fangs glinting. “Still pretending you care about humans more than you care about me?”

Ilya presses his lips into a thin line. He doesn’t know how to calm him down, he never did. But he can’t enrage him. I can’t let him get angry. I have to get him out. Before he—God, Shane can’t see this. He takes a deep breath, blue eyes locking on Sasha’s. “You leave now. You go. Or I will remove you myself, and you will not like it. You are unstable, and you cannot be here.”

Sasha’s smirk falters for the tiniest moment, then returns, sharper than before. “You always were so commanding.”

Ilya grinds his teeth, fists curling at his sides. How could he ever have liked this guy, it seems like his life was lived by someone else before he met Shane. He’s so disappointed in himself.vHe glances toward the stairwell, please don’t come out. Please don’t see this. How the hell am I going to get this guy out of here?

Sasha’s smirk widens, predatory and unnerving. “It used to be so easy, Ilya… so easy to bend you.”

Ilya’s jaw tightens, he can’t lose control. He can’t let Shane or Hayden see this. And he can’t let Sasha scent Shane. Think. Get him out!

The danger is here and Ilya has mere minutes to make it disappear.

Svetlana appears suddenly, moving with the speed and grace of centuries honed, materializing beside Ilya like a shadow stepping from shadow. “Let me,” she murmurs, voice low but sharp.

Ilya doesn’t hesitate. With Sveta by his side they can do this. Together, they flank Sasha, who had taken a step too close, teeth flashing in the dim torchlight. He hisses, lunging subtly toward Ilya, but Svetlana’s hand on his chest shoves him backward. 

Ilya mirrors her, using his speed and strength to chase the younger, unpredictable vampire down the dark corridors and back into the massive lobby.

“Move!” Svetlana orders, voice firm, almost dangerous. “Now, before you ruin everything!”

Sasha struggles against their combined control, red eyes blazing, fangs glinting. “What is happening?” he demands. “Why are you two—”

And then, as if summoned by a cruel trick of fate, Shane appears at the top of the grand staircase. The sight of him was almost surreal: the pale morning light catching his tousled hair, freckles dusting his cheeks, his oversized blue linen shirt hanging loosely, sleeves rolled up slightly. Soft, warm, alive — utterly human and utterly intoxicating.

Sasha freezes, a slow, deliberate lick of his lips betraying the sudden recognition.

Ilya clenches his jaw, anger and panic swirling together. No. He cannot… not here. Not Shane.

Sasha’s gaze drops to Shane, and everything seems to click into place: the scent, the irresistible pull, the light in him that sets vampires’ instincts screaming. “Oh,” Sasha murmurs, low and dangerous. “Now I see.”

Shane’s dark eyes met Ilya’s from the stairs, confused and concerned. “What’s… happening?” he asks, voice soft, but every sense in his body is alert.

Sasha’s lips curl into a predatory grin, teeth flashing faintly in the warm morning glow. He licks them again, slow, deliberate. His gaze roams over Shane like a predator assessing its prey, and Ilya’s stomach twists with dread.

Ilya steps forward, putting his body protectively between Sasha and Shane, every muscle coiled and ready. “Stay where you are,” he says, voice low and commanding, a growl barely restrained beneath the surface.

Svetlana’s hands grip Sasha’s shoulders, ready to shove him again, her eyes flicking to Shane. No human, no matter how tempting, touches them. Not here. Not now.

Sasha’s grin widens, dangerous, hungry, and unnerving. “I see now,” he hisses, eyes narrowing at Ilya. “This is why you’ve kept me away. You’re hiding a little human. This is…” His voice trails off, low, sharp, loaded with desire and fury.

Ilya’s mind races. Why is Shane still standing there? He needs to run. Does he not realise how much danger he’s in just with his presence. “I… Ilya?”

“Get out of here Shane!” Ilya says harshly.

Shan halts mid step, his deep eyes welling up a little. 

Svetlana steps in, trying to save his life and their relationship. She shoves Sasha hard. “Go,” She hisses, “Get the fuck out of my castle and never return.” 

Sasha’s fury is palpable, his gaze flicking between Shane and Ilya. “You betrayed me!” He spits, his voice dripping with venom. “You cannot deny me!” 

Ilya is frozen in place, his gaze moving from Sasha to Shane. Please don’t move, Shane. Please stay still.

The younger vampire’s movements were unpredictable, violent and precise, fueled by raw hunger and decades of unrestrained power. “You’re mine, Ilya,” Sasha hisses, fangs flashing in the dim glow. “You’ve always been mine!”

Ilya’s eyes narrow, muscles coiled, every movement controlled but alert. “Not anymore,” he growls. “Not here. Not tonight. Not ever.”

Svetlana circles him, elegant and lethal, her hand brushing lightly over the air as subtle glamours and spells shift around Sasha, trying to confuse him, to hold him off. “You have no business here,” she says, voice icy. “You endanger them all — and I will not allow it.”

Sasha lunges, reaching for Ilya. 

Ilya moves with impossible speed, sidestepping and countering, but Sasha is strong, untrained and reckless enough to make him dangerous. Svetlana intercepts with a shove, knocking Sasha toward the central staircase, only for him to spin and launch another attack.

“You think you can control me?” Sasha spits. 

Ilya’s fangs drop. “You’re a fool.”

Svetlana steps in again, hands flashing, sending a minor but disorienting glamour that makes Sasha stumble. “Go. Last chance.”

Sasha’s fury escalates, and he lunges toward Shane on the stairwell, drawn by the faint, irresistible scent of the humans. Ilya’s heart thumps. With a blur of movement, Ilya intercepts, grabbing Sasha by the shoulders and throwing him toward the great doors at the front of the lobby.

Svetlana joins, guiding, shoving, and cornering Sasha with supernatural speed. The fight is a tense dance of shadows, strength, and centuries of experience. Then, with one final shove, Svetlana forces Sasha outside into the early night mist.

Sasha’s nails scrape against the stone walkway, his shoes getting covered in mud. He spins, glaring back at the castle. “This isn’t over, Ilya! I will have what’s mine! You’ll regret this!”

Ilya’s chest heaves, golden eyes burning with a mixture of fury, relief, and exhaustion. “Go,” he growls, voice low and deadly. “And never return.”

Sasha hisses, swearing under his breath. He melts back into the shadows outside, hiding amongst the trees.

Ilya exhales, rubbing a hand over his face, golden curls falling into his eyes. Svetlana’s hands are on her hips, eyes scanning the castle to ensure Shane is safe. “That was dangerous and too close, way too close.” 

Ilya nods, voice tight. “I know.”

Shane hasn’t moved from the staircase, his eyes wide with confusion and hurt. Ilya doesn’t know what to say to fix this. He’s so worried about Shane, worried about what Sasha is going to do. Gods help us if he does come back. 

“Shane..” 

Shane turns his back on Ilya, tears brewing in his eyes. He races up the stairs. While Ilya could easily catch him, he lets him go. 

Shane curls up on Hayden’s bed beside his friend, he strokes Hayden’s hair softly, wishing he was awake, he needs his friend right now. But Hayden is still sleeping in the deep healing magic. He looks almost angelic in his sleep, no sign of pain on his face. It doesn’t stop him from worrying about Hayden though. He wonders what Hayden is dreaming of. 

The door creaks open but Shane doesn’t turn, he rests his head on the pillow beside Hayden, keeping his eyes only on him. What he just witnessed downstairs scared him. 

“I…” Ilya begins, his voice low. “Shane… I’m sorry. For what you had to see back there with Sasha.”

Shane blinks away the tears, it wasn’t just that Sasha threatened his life but that Sasha seemed to care for Ilya in a way that an ex boyfriend would. “I.. It’s fine.” He murmurs. “I just want to make sure Hayden is okay.” 

“Hayden is okay.” Ilya says, taking a step towards the bed. He sits at the end of the bed, Shane can feel the mattress dip from his weight. “I’m sorry you had to see that, and I’m sorry that I yelled at you, you didn’t deserve that.” 

Shane sniffs and fidgets with the pillow. “Who is Sasha?”

Ilya sighs, he rests a hand on Shane’s lower leg. “He’s an ex boyfriend of mine, many decades ago.” He squeezes his leg. “He’s dangerous, unpredictable, and he brings out the worst in me.”  

Shane finally takes a cautious glance at Ilya. “You… you and him?”

Ilya’s beautiful blue eyes are completely hidden by his messy curls from the flight. “It was… complicated. And brief. I was lonely. Bored. Sasha was fun. Exciting.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It was so violent, those were the years I hurt people.”

Shane’s fingers flex, brushing lightly over Hayden’s blanket, not daring to meet Ilya’s gaze fully. “And… you just wanted a distraction?”

“Yes,” Ilya admits quietly, voice heavy with a hint of shame and frustration. “A distraction. A game. Nothing more. But now he’s back. And he’s persistent. I know he won’t give up easily, and that makes me nervous.”

Shane exhales and takes Hayden’s hand in his. “Sasha’s going to try and hurt us isn’t he?” His thumb brushes his friend’s hand.

Ilya nods. “I think so, he’s unpredictable and his obsessions never end, he doesn’t understand boundaries or restraint.” He rubs Shane’s thigh. “But I will do anything to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.” 

Shane feels the weight of the confession settle in his chest, tense and tight, and he lets himself take a small, shaky breath. “You… you’re protective,” he says quietly and looks up at Ilya. He looks so small, so sad. So genuine. 

“I am,” Ilya says, voice low and vulnerable for a heartbeat. “Of you. Of Hayden. Of this place. And I want to tell you it’s all going to be okay.” He trails off, his gaze flicking toward Shane again, eyes sharp but soft at the edges. “But I can’t pretend it’s not dangerous.”

Shane returns his attention on Hayden, brushing a hand over the soft curve of his cheek, heart thumping with a mix of worry and awareness of Ilya beside him. “I appreciate your honesty.”

Ilya stands up to leave, giving Shane some space. “Sveta and I will patrol at night and Marleau will keep you safe during the day.” 

“I love you.” Shane whispers, the words couldn’t stay in the back of his throat anymore. They threatened to choke him.  

Ilya starts to close the door but stops before it fully closes. “I love you too Shane.” He closes the door and vanishes into the castle. 

Now he’s gone, Shane can release a tear. It’s hard for him to realise that danger and desire can coexist in the same room at the same moment, and just how thin that line can be.

Chapter 8: Stolen

Chapter Summary

Sasha never gives up

Chapter Notes

Hi guys, I love writing angst so we will be heading into angst territory for the next few chapters. I apologize for any errors, I am on the early shifts and very tired. When I've got most of the story up I'll start editing a little bits here and there. Thanks for bearing with me.

~~Day Three~~

Shane moves through the corridors as the sun sets once more, he has slept through the day, becoming more and more like a vampire as time passes. The early evening chill seeps through the tall arched windows. His soft leather boots squeak as he paces, his mind is set on one thing: leaving. He imagines a way that they could get Hayden strapped to one of the horses, carefully secured to ensure he won’t fall. 

Shane has gone over this plan in his mind repeatedly, he measures the risks, calculating time, thinking of nothing else. He knows he has to leave. He had always planned to leave and surely they can just take Hayden, he’ll be safer out of the forest. Not with Sasha lingering somewhere out in the shadows. 

Ilya appears from nowhere, windswept and clearly just awoken from a deep sleep. “Shane,” he says staunchly. “You can’t leave, not yet, not with Sasha hanging around.”

“But that’s why I have to leave, Hayden isn’t safe, my men are not safe. I’m not safe.” Shane closes his eyes and looks away.  

Ilya steps closer, hesitant, pleading, every line of his posture screaming restraint. “I can protect you—protect him. I—”

“Ilya..” Shane takes a trembling breath, tears prickling in his eyes. This is going to hurt. “I have a life back home, I’m getting married.” 

“What?” Ilya says, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Shane nods. “She’s beautiful and we are going to marry when I return, our marriage will join two kingdoms together forever.” 

“She?” A blood red tear prickles at his eye. 

Shane can’t even look at him, he will see right through him. “I have to leave.” 

In a broken voice, Ilya says, “Then go.” He swallows and closes his eyes. 

Shane walks past Ilya, heading out to affix a faux bed to one of the horses in the stable for Hayden. He drops his hand as he walks. His fingers brush Ilya’s. The contact is brief but electric, a whisper of warmth against skin, and for a heartbeat, neither moved. Then Shane pulls his hand away aggressively, trying to escape that feeling again. 

Ilya’s face falls, gold eyes wide with hurt, his lips parting as if to say something but no words leave him.  

Shane’s steps falter for the barest second, just enough to feel the weight of Ilya’s devastation. He glances at the other man, really looks, and sees the ache of being rejected.

“Please…” Ilya murmurs, his voice cracking. “Be careful. Whatever waits out there… you’ll need to be.”

Shane nods, heart pounding for reasons beyond caution. “I will.”

They move past each other in silence, Shane toward the stables, Ilya lingering behind, golden eyes fixed on the corridor where Shane’s form had occupied.

Ilya lets out a long, low sigh, pressing a hand to his chest as if to steady the ache. He’s leaving. And I… I can’t stop him. How do you keep from losing someone when the world itself refuses to let them stay?

The corridor feels emptier after Shane’s footsteps fade, the torchlight flickering in the still air, the weight of what had just passed lingering like smoke.

“Shane… if only you knew how much you mean to me.”

Shane wipes his eyes as he steps into the stable, the faint scent of hay and horses filling his nose. He crouches beside the horse best suited to carry Hayden, he’s a big strong gelding. He loosens the straps on the saddle so he can replace it with something more akin to a stretcher. 

A chill runs over Shane’s skin, and suddenly a woosh of movement brushes past him. “Ilya—” Shane begins, “You have to let me—”

A low chuckle breaks through the shadows, smooth and dangerous. Shane finds himself frozen in place, because the person stepping out of the shadows is not Ilya. 

Sasha.

His red eyes glint with hunger, teeth flashing faintly as he licks his lips. “Leaving so soon?” His voice is silky and venomous. “I thought we weren’t done… not by far.”

Shane’s heart slams in his chest. “Sasha.. I..”

Before he can react, a hand shoots out, rough and fast. Sasha’s hand is covering Shane’s mouth, his fingers pressing against Shane’s jaw, in the same motion he twists him backwards. Shane flails his arms, his legs are kicked out. Sasha’s grip is unyielding. The world spins as he’s hoisted off the ground, his muscles straining under the vampire’s strength. His scream is muffled by the hand over his mouth. Panic builds in his mind. 

This can’t be happening, please no. 

Sasha leans over and whispers in Shane’s ear. “I will never give up.” 

Shane thrashes, trying desperately to wrench free. Sasha is fluid and inhumanly fast, he’s carrying him towards the deepest, darkest part of the Moonveil Wood. The stable, the horses and the soft torchlight blurs into one dark whirl as Shane’s pulse races in terror. A final thought tears through his mind as darkness threatens to swallow him whole. Ilya, please help me. 

And with that, Sasha vanished into the trees, leaving the stable silent and empty. Shane is tightly gripped in his arms. His muffled struggle fades into the night. 

“He’s leaving, for real this time.” Ilya says, standing in the doorway of Svetlana’s room. 

She sits up in her coffin and opens her arms, giving the only comfort she knows he can handle right now. He doesn’t hesitate either. He dives into her arms and buries his face in her hair, he grips her tightly trying to hold back the tears. 

It’s been a very long time since he cried, he doesn’t actually remember when the last time was. He’d forgotten that being a vampire, he doesn’t cry normal tears. His tears are made of blood. Against his pale skin it’s a stark and devastating contrast. 

“Maybe I was wrong.” Svetlana whispers, her hands running through Ilya’s curls. 

“About what?” He sniffs. 

Svetlana kisses his forehead. “Humans aren’t the only beings with hearts of glass.” 

Ilya doesn’t say anything, just lays his head on Svetlana’s chest and closes his eyes. 

Ilya jolts up, nearly banging his head on the roof pillars. He takes a big breath, bringing the scent into his nostrils. It’s almost imperceptable. But it’s there. 

A tangle of fear, human sweat and..

Sasha. 

He freezes, nostrils flaring, golden eyes narrowing. There. Another trace, Shane. His blood is filled with panic, hot and immediate. It twists Ilya’s stomach. 

No. Gods, no.

He leaves the safety of Svetlana’s chambers and bolts towards the scent, it’s in the stable. He moves faster than the eye could follow. As soon as he enters the stable, the scent hits him full force so hard it nearly knocks him over. Shane’s pure fear and Sasha’s predatory arrogance lingers like smoke in the corners. He lets out a low growl, his fangs descending and pressing against his lower lip. “Shane,” He hisses, his voice raw with pain. 

“What’s happened?” Svetlana emerges beside him, elegant as always. Her dark eyes scan the stable. 

“He’s gone,” Ilya says, voice sharp, low. “Sasha took him.”

Svetlana looks around frantically. “Oh no.. Oh no.. Oh Gods Ilya!”

“I know,” Ilya snaps his head, golden curls falling into his eyes, jaw tight. “He’s taken him. I can smell him. Shane’s terrified. And he’s moving fast.”

Svetlana’s expression hardens. “Then we don’t waste a second.”

Ilya’s fingers flex, the scent of Shane and Sasha blazing in his senses. Relax, breathe, you can’t think of the worst right now. Shane needs him. He has to be strong. “There. He’s heading east, into the forest. I can track them. But… he’s strong, Sasha.” Fuck. 

Svetlana grabs Ilya’s hands tightly and nods. Her eyes are dark and calculating. “I don’t care how strong he thinks he is, we will bring him back. Now.”

Ilya exhales slowly, pulling his cloak tighter, fury in his eyes.. “Then we go,” he says, voice low, fierce. “And Svetlana…” His gaze hardens. “This is not a game. If Sasha hurts him—”

“I know,” she says sharply, stepping closer. “I won’t let that happen. Not to Shane.”

Ilya can feel the weight of desperation pressing on him, muscles coiled, senses straining. Every fiber of his being is screaming to move faster, to reach Shane before the forest swallows him, before Sasha’s chaotic hunger can take hold. Oh no.. What if he bites Shane? No, he can’t let those thoughts consume him.

He follows his scent, tracking, moving constantly. There’s a blur of gold and shadow through the torchlight.

One thought repeats in his head, through concentration and stronger than fury. 

Do not let him hurt him. Not my Shane.

Chapter 9: Heartbeat

Chapter Summary

Shane's life is in serious danger, two days in Sasha's custody has left him weak and scared. He can only think of Ilya.

Chapter Notes

Thank you so much again for all the attention this story is getting, I love it so much and I'm glad you do too <3

~~Day four~~

Shane’s head spins as the cold dungeon walls come into view, every step is jarring, and painful with the force Sasha is using to drag him. His breathing is erratic but he’s trying to keep calm, hyperventilating is only going to make everything worse. He focuses on the smells around him, the dampness and the rusted iron. 

Sasha throws Shane hard enough to bruise, down against the wall. Iron cuffs are wrapped around his wrists and locked. The chains are attached to a large ring above his head. Shane strains against them, his fingers clawing at the metal but it’s no use. 

Sasha looms over him, a cruel smirk on his lips. “You’re cute when you struggle.” His voice is smooth and taunting. 

Shane struggles some more, panic biting at his chest. The chains are chafing painfully. “Let me go!” He shouts, his voice cracks, he knows it’s hopeless and no one can hear him. 

Sasha circles like a predator, his eyes glinting in the dim torchlight. “Oh I missed this.” He murmurs, leaning close enough that Shane can smell the blood in his breath. “The fear, the hope that someone will save you. The way your blood smells when you’re trying so hard to stay strong.” He puts his fingers on Shane’s chin and holds him steady. 

Shane tries to pull away, trying to get those freezing fingers off his skin. It feels like a vice. Involuntary tears start welling up in his eyes, he looks away and starts tugging again. 

“God you smell delicious,” he whispers, licking his lips. 

Shane’s eyes widen, he tries to shrink away but he’s no match for a hungry vampire. 

Sasha chuckles, his gaze sweeping over Shane like a man savouring a fine meal. But apparently Sasha likes to play with his food. He’s gone from the room in a blur, a faint rustle of movement signalling he’s left. 

Shane sags against the wall, his chest is heaving and his fingers trembling. For a heartbeat, relief washes over him. Maybe Sasha just intends to hold him here, keep him hostage until Ilya  agrees to be with him or something. Fuck that’s not much better. How could Shane condemn Ilya to a lifetime of being trapped with a killer? 

Sasha races back in, moving faster than Shane could follow. He doesn’t even have a second to brace himself before Sasha sinks his fangs into the side of Shane’s neck. His bite is deep, rough. Nothing like Ilya’s. It hurts, god it hurts. The pain is sharp, raw and unrelenting across Shane’s skin. 

He screams, a high and piercing scream. He kicks desperately, trying to get Sasha away from him. But Shane has lost a lot of blood lately, Ilya is careful but Sasha is not. 

His vision starts to blur and his limbs grow heavy and unresponsive. He collapses on the floor. Hot tears sting his cheeks as he cries openly now. Sasha’s arm wraps around Shane’s chest and holds him up. The fear is undeniable now, Sasha could kill him right here and now. 

But Sasha stops, he pulls away, his lips red and chin glistening with Shane’s blood. “Ilya will never find you again,” He whispers into Shane’s ear, voice low and cruel. He wipes the blood from his chin and drops Shane on the flood. 

Shane tries to reach up and cover the wound on his neck but his arms feel like lead, he can only lay there shivering from the cold. His sobs have quietened into soft whimpers. The darkness seems to be closing in around him, the only light is a burning torch in the corner, positioned above some kind of torture device that Shane can only pray is not used on him. He’s dizzy, his heart thudding erratically in his chest. The low level pain in his neck keeps him from closing his eyes and giving into unconsciousness. 

His every instinct screams for Ilya. 

Please Ilya, please save me. You have to.. Please. 

But in the empty, cold dungeon, only his own ragged breathing answers. 

Shane manages to stay awake, his body still limp, his body is bruised and clammy. Sweat is dripping down his forehead. He’s so warm yet freezing cold. His freckles are bright against his pale skin. He’s exhausted, pushed past every limit. Despite this, he stiffens when he hears the sound of feet stomping towards him. 

Sasha stands there, his flowing dark orange shirt unbuttoned over his chest. His pants are tight and black, feet bare. He has a long black coat dragging along the stone as he walks. He stops and leans against the wall opposite Shane. “Well hey,” He drags a stool across the floor and perches on it with one leg over the other, leaning his arm across his raised knee. “I did some research, asked a few questions.” His gaze sweeps over Shane. “I heard about a nearby kingdom called Montreal, it seems as though their prince went on a mission into Moonveil wood and hasn’t yet returned.” 

Shane says nothing, keeping his gaze on the floor.

“The prince is said to be a handsome man, with dark hair, freckles. Couldn’t possibly be you, could it?” 

Shane swallows, the sensation painful in his dry throat. “What.. Do you.. Want?” He whispers, voice shaky and breathy.

Sasha chuckles. “Want? Oh I don’t want much, I’m just curious. Curious about the prince who struggles, who smells different. Delicious. And, of course..” He leans forward. “The human who dared to take what was mine. How bold of him.” 

“I’m.. I’m not..” 

“Oh but you are,” Sasha interrupts. “You are fascinating. Fragile, fearful and yet.. Stubborn. I love a challenge.”

The words hang in the cold air, his dark hair catching the torchlight. He rakes his gaze across Shane’s form in a way that makes Shane’s stomach churn and sends a shiver down his spine. 

Sasha tilts his head, resting his chin on his hand, a smirk curling at his lips. “Of course Ilya would pick a prince, it’s all a game to him.”

Shane looks down again, he’s too afraid and too exhausted to speak. His body is still suffering from the trauma. 

“Don’t be like that, so serious. I like it when they play the game.” He nudges Shane’s leg with his foot. But Shane doesn’t give him anything, just closes his eyes, not even a tear prickles at his eyes. He feels nothing. Except how fragile he is.

“Fine, be like that. Some alone time might get you to talk back.” Sasha stands up, kicking the stool across the dungeon. His face is dark, homicidal. Like a serial killer. It’s the first time his facade drops and it’s terrifying. Shane only glimpses it for a moment but it’s enough.

“Don’t forget. I fucking own you.” 

“We can’t wake him, it’s too soon!” Ilya scowls, looking down at Hayden still comatose on his bed. 

“Ilya, Shane is gone, he’s been kidnapped. Hayden has to know, he might even be able to help.” Svetlana bites back. 

Ilya runs his hands through his hair, his desperation clear all over his face. “Fine, fine, send for-”

“I already have.” Svetlana interrupts. Just then, the doorbell rings. She picks up Hayden in her arms and races down to the main entrance hall. Marleau opens the door and brings the wizard and apothecary back into the castle.

“Svetlana, are you sure you want us to wake him? We can control his pain but it’s still going to be there. Humans are so fragile.” The wizard states.

Svetlana lays Hayden down on the floor in front of the two, she runs a hand through his hair. “We have to, circumstances have changed and we need Hayden back.”

The two kneel beside Hayden, the wizard conducting a spell and the apothecary injecting Hayden in the shoulder with something from their bag. 

With a loud exhale, Hayden awakes. He jolts up and grips his shoulder. “What.. Where?” 

Svetlana kneels down beside Hayden, she can see the haze of deep magic fading from his eyes. “Hayden, listen to me.” She says urgently, making him focus on her. “Shane’s been kidnapped.” 

Hayden’s eyes fill with shock, then fury ignites. “What? Who took him?”

Ilya steps forward, his gaze intense. “A vampire, a rogue, dangerous vampire. He was an ex-lover of mine. His name is Sasha.” 

“What!?” Hayden launches at Ilya, muscles taut with adrenaline. “How could you let this happen!? You were supposed to keep him safe!” He doesn’t think, just starts pounding at the vampire’s hard chest in an attempt to shove him. 

Ilya barely shifts, his feet planted firmly. “Hayden stop!” He growls and grabs Hayden’s arms. “You’ll hurt yourself!” 

Hayden grits his teeth and struggles against Ilya, tears falling furiously. “I don’t care! Shane’s gone, he’s gone!” 

Ilya lets Hayden fight him for a few moments, he understands, in fact he deserves this. He needs to release some fear. Finally, he leans forward and presses a hand to Hayden’s chest, trying to keep him at a distance. “Look at me, Hayden. Fighting me won’t help Shane. You need focus. You need me if you want to get him back alive.”

Hayden’s chest heaves, his face stained with tears. He falls forward and wraps his arms around Ilya. “He’s gone..” He sobs. 

Ilya pats Hayden’s back a few times before looking to Svetlana for help. 

Svetlana steps closer, her arms folded. “We need to work together, it’s our only chance. Sasha is unpredictable, and Shane.. He needs you both thinking clearly.” 

Hayden exhales and wipes his face, he releases Ilya from the somewhat awkward hug. “If anything happens to Shane..” 

“I know,” Ilya says, low and firm. “I won’t let anything happen to him, we can find him.” 

Hayden nods. “Let’s do this.” 

Ilya steps aside, his hand flicking towards the door. “I’ll try to track them, I knew Sasha for many years, I know his scent.” 

“Mhmm.” Hayden hums grumpily.

“Hayden?” Ilya says. 

“What?” He snaps, impatient. 

“Try not to hit me again,” Ilya says, his eyes remaining serious even in his attempt at humor. 

The tension between them shifts into a fragile but effective alliance. “No promises,” he mutters, but falls in line beside Ilya.

Svetlana follows behind, silent and sharp, ready to back them up. The three moved out into the castle corridors, the hunt for Shane has begun. 

~~Day Five~~

Shane’s head spins, his vision blurring, every breath is a struggle as adrenaline fights against the weakness from blood loss. 

Sasha has decided Shane was incapacitated enough to uncuff him, leaving him on the hard stone. But sudden panic takes hold of Shane and he summons one last jolt of energy. He gasps as he staggers to his knees, he forces himself upright but his legs are trembling beneath him. He pushes through, step by agonizing step. He limps towards the door and throws his shoulder into it, pushing it open.  

The hallway is lit faintly by torches, the glow tempting. Shane clutches at the walls, dragging himself up the stairs. He clings to the handrail, then the walls. Anything solid. For a fleeting moment, hope flickers in his chest. 

He’s so close. 

But when he finally reaches the front door, his knees buckle. He slumps against it, hands sliding down the wood as tears well up and spill down his cheeks. His chest rises and falls shallowly. Strength ebbs from his body like water between fingers. 

Oh god.. I’m not strong enough. I can’t..

A soft, deliberate clack echoes behind him. Shane flinches.

Sasha appears, stepping into the light. A small smirk curls at his lips. “After all we’ve been through?” He murmurs, mocking. He shakes his head as if disappointed by Shane’s weakness.

Shane drops further, helpless. 

Sasha steps closer and in a swift motion, he scoops Shane into his arms. 

Shane is limp, powerless. Too exhausted to fight, too drained to resist. He’s aware only enough to realise the sun has now set. 

Through the trees and in the darkness of the forest, Sasha moves like a shadow, every step deliberate, carrying Shane away from the light and warmth of his castle. Shane can feel his hands drooping against Sasha’s chest, his head lolling, eyes half closed. His legs dangle uselessly, fragile. 

Finally, Sasha reaches a small clearing. He lowers Shane down amongst the green grass and blooming flowers. 

Shane sighs, sinking into the dirt. 

Sasha regards the limp, lifeless human with a cold and calculating glance. “No reason to keep you alive,” He whispers, almost tenderly before sinking his fangs into Shane’s neck. 

That horrible pain returns, it explodes through Shane, burning. His scream tears through his throat, it bounces off the forest trees around them. He has no strength to fight. Every ounce of blood is drained from him, a hot, metallic burn leaves him trembling and pale, his life seeping away under Sasha’s brutal efficiency. 

Sasha pulls back, chin once again dripping with Shane’s blood. He takes one last look at Shane’s body before disappearing into the shadows of the night. 

As Shane lays in the grass, his chest stills, eyes close. The world is dark now, silence swallowing him. His heart has come to a stop.

Chapter End Notes

As Hayden is now awake, the day count is over :)

Chapter 10: Awaken

Chapter Summary

Ilya's dead heart is broken

The forest is quiet, the early morning mist curls between the ancient trunks like smoke. Ilya moves at barely perceptible speed, every step is precise and his senses stretch to their limits.

Svetlana has Hayden pressed to her back, he couldn’t even walk at a manageable speed. Let alone keep up with vampires so it’s an easy choice. She holds him securely as they race through the trees, over roots and fallen branches. 

Then, out of nowhere, Ilya stops dead. His nostrils flare, his eyes widen. The scent hits him like a sword in battle. 

Shane.

But not just Shane, it’s wrong. Overwhelming. The coppery tang of his blood is far too strong. So much blood, so much fear. It’s everywhere, mingled with terror. He staggers, barely grabbing on to Svetlana before his legs give out. “No..” He breathes, his voice low and choking with dread. 

“Is he?” Svetlana glances at him, brow furrowed. 

Ilya doesn’t answer. Instead, he surges forward again, racing through the mist-shrouded trees, pushing his speed to the absolute limit. 

Finally, they burst into a clearing bathed in moonlight, and Ilya freezes. His face drops, his expression is so heavy, so raw with pain and disbelief, that Svetlana tightens her grip on Hayden. 

He’s there. 

Shane is unmoving on the damp grass, pale and lifeless, his blood slick against his neck. 

The world seems to fall away.

“No, no no!” He screams, scrambling across the dirt to Shane’s side. He grabs Shane around his chest and brings him into his arms. “Shane.. Sweetheart..” He traces Shane’s face with a single finger, gently stroking his cheeks and those beautiful freckles. He rocks Shane gently, blood red tears fall freely down his cheeks. “No.. Shane.. Wake up, you have to wake up. Please..” He squeezes his eyes closed and sobs loudly, openly. A scream tears from his chest. 

On Shane’s other side, Hayden hits the ground too, sobs rip at his chest as he clutches the hem of Shane’s shirt. His shoulders shake violently. 

Ilya presses his forehead to Shane’s, he can feel how cold and clammy Shane is. God it’s awful, it’s horrible. “Shane darling, please, I love you so much you.. You can’t leave me darling.” He strokes Shane’s hair, pushing it away from his face. “I’m so sorry I was too slow.. Too slow.” He sobs louder, his devastation screaming out of him from every part. 

Svetlana watches nearby, her blood tears sliding silently down her cheeks. She remains upright, the picture of controlled grief. She can’t tear her eyes away from Ilya, slowly rocking Shane and begging him to come back from the dead. Her heart aches for Ilya, but it’s also breaking for the prince she had come to know and care for.

Her pain became known to the guardians of the forest. The fae heard her unintentional call, their light shimmers at the edge of the clearing. Their delicate shapes glint in the moonlight, a promise of hope. 

Many years ago, the fae came under threat. Svetlana was the only one strong enough to banish the creatures forever. They owe her a favour. 

Without another thought, she scoops Shane into her arms, with Hayden tucked close to her side. She runs, her ethereal speed carries them through the forest, towards the light of the fae. 

Ilya surges after them, unsure of what Svetlana is doing but he trusts her and he’s willing to follow. No matter the cost. 

The fae live everywhere and nowhere, they only show their door when they decide you’re worth a chat. The air is shimmering with magic, light spills through twisted branches that form walls and a large door. 

Scott and Kip emerge from the branches, their forms both beautiful and unsettling. Their presence was immediate, hypnotic. The forest behind the group fades into strange colours and angles. 

“Quickly,” Scott whispers, voice smooth as silk and just as sharp, “come inside, before the night forgets you.” Kip’s hand brushes the air, and the ground seems to pulse beneath them.

Svetlana lays Shane gently on the forest floor, his pale body fragile in her arms. Hayden clings to her side, still sobbing. He barely notices the fae. 

Ilya hovers, golden eyes wide, chest heaving, unable to form words. The air was thick with tension, grief, and magic.

“What has happened?” Scott asks, tilting his head, their voices a strange harmony that makes the forest around them shiver.

Svetlana sighs, biting her lower lip. “He was taken by a vampire, drained, almost completely.

Kip’s lips curve into a slow, unsettling smile. “We warned him. Did he heed?”

Svetlana’s gaze snaps, sharp and furious. “Do not blame him! Ilya was never a warning—he is Shane’s soulmate! Can’t you see that? The risk wasn’t the vampire… it was their love! He had to fight for it!”

Scott and Kip exchange a glance, a flicker of amusement passing between them. “We can see it,” Scott murmurs, voice low, almost teasing. “But without transformation, without change… the threads of his life unravel. We cannot glimpse his future unless he becomes what he is not yet.”

Kip holds Scott’s hand and joins at his side. “He has only sixty minutes left for the decision, one hour and he’s gone forever.” 

The forest seems to tilt and sway. Light bends strangely, shadows lengthen, and the world around them dissolves into nothing. The air hums with fae energy, wrapping around their minds, voices echoing like distant bells.

Then, with a faint rush of wind and a blur of light, they’re back in the clearing. Shane still lays pale, fragile, and lifeless on the grass. 

Hayden clutches Svetlana, still trembling. 

Ilya knelt frozen beside them, grief-stricken and silent.

But now, the fae’s words linger in their minds like a cold whisper: Shane’s life could only continue if he embraced what he was not yet… if he became a vampire.

The three of them, Ilya, Svetlana, and Hayden, looked at one another. Their eyes wide with shock, grief, and uncertainty. None of them knew what to do next

Hayden’s fists shake with anger as he faces Ilya, voice sharp, eyes blazing. “You can’t just.. Turn him! He’s human! He deserves a choice!”

Ilya’s golden eyes are haunted, shadowed with grief, desperation, and need. “Do you think I want to curse him? To take his life and twist it? But he’s… he’s my other half, Hayden. I can’t survive without him. I’m fading… every second I’m without him, it’s like I’m losing pieces of myself.”

Hayden’s jaw tightens. “That doesn’t give you the right! He’s not yours to play with!”

Svetlana’s dark eyes watch silently at first, her expression unreadable, letting the argument run its course. But eventually she needs to step forward, voice calm but commanding. “There are two options,” she says, letting the weight of each word settle. “He dies… or you turn him. That is all. He cannot survive this on his own.”

“What are we voting on now?!” Hayden yells, panic and frustration cracking his voice.

Ilya’s shoulders slump, exhaustion and heartbreak written into every line of his posture. “I vote with her. There’s no other choice. I can’t lose him. Not like this.”

Hayden’s breath catches. He looked down at Shane, fragile and pale, and then back at Ilya, whose golden eyes were raw with vulnerability. Slowly, reluctantly, he nods. “Fine… fine,” he mutters, voice heavy. “Do it. But you best be ready to accept the consequences.”

Ilya exhales, tense shoulders easing slightly, a glimmer of hope breaks through the despair. 

Svetlana nods, sharp and decisive. “Then we do it at my castle. We will prepare him properly, no mistakes.”

The decision has been made, the three of them stand in silence for a heartbeat, the forest around them still and expectant, knowing that the night ahead would change everything.

Ilya’s chamber is lit only by candlelight.

Heavy velvet curtains block the dawn, plunging the room into a warm shadow. The air is thick with old wood, wax, and something ancient that clings to the stone walls. In the center of the room stands Ilya’s coffin, dark mahogany, lined in deep red silk.

Shane is lying on Ilya’s bed on the other side of the room, pale and still. But his freckles are still there, painting his cheeks with life. He looks so human, so heartbreakingly human.

Hayden stands near the fireplace, hands tangled in his own hair, eyes red from crying. He can’t look at his prince for long.

Svetlana is at Shane’s head, composed but solemn. “Once you begin,” she says quietly, “there is no undoing it.”

Ilya nods, there’s only minutes left for Shane. He kneels on the bed beside Shane, he brushes trembling fingers through dark hair. “Forgive me,” He whispers. “If you wake up and hate me.. I will bear it. Just please awaken.” He won’t hesitate again. 

He lifts his wrist to his mouth and sinks his fangs into his own skin. Dark, rich blood wells immediately, thicker than human blood. It’s ancient and powerful. 

Svetlana gently tilts Shane’s head up, opening his jaw. Ilya presses his bleeding wrist to Shane’s lips. His blood slips down his mouth and into his throat. A few drops is all that’s needed. 

Svetlana holds his jaw steady, ensuring the blood is accepted. 

Ilya watches every movement, every second stretching into eternity. He can feel it.. The blood responding, old and primal. When it’s done, he pulls away, the wound already sealing closed on his wrist.

Shane’s body remains still.

“Now we wait,” Svetlana says softly, relieved.

Svetlana lifts Shane into his arms carefully and carries him to the coffin, Ilya climbs inside first, arranging the silk lining and then cradles Shane against him. He positions Shane’s head against his chest, arms wrapped tightly around him, unwilling to allow even an inch of space.

“They must rest,” Svetlana says. “Days, perhaps.”

Hayden steps forward suddenly and collapses beside the coffin, gripping the edge with white knuckles. “He better wake up,” he chokes. “You better not let him—”

“He will,” Ilya says, though fear coiled viciously in his chest. “He has to.”

Svetlana gently touches Hayden’s shoulder. “You need to recover. You’re still injured. If he wakes and you collapse, that helps no one.”

Hayden shakes his head, tears falling freely. “I can’t just—”

“You can,” she says firmly. “And you will.”

Reluctantly, she guides him away from the coffin, though Hayden’s eyes don’t leave it until they have to. His sobs echo down the corridor until distance swallows the sound.

Ilya remains. He brushes his fingers through Shane’s hair again, pressing his forehead gently to Shane’s.

“Come back to me,” he whispers.

Then he reaches up and closes the lid of the coffin.

Darkness encloses them.

Ilya does not move, he doesn’t breathe. He only holds Shane closer and vows, silently and fiercely, that when the coffin opens again.. They would rise together.

At first, nothing seemed to happen. Shane’s body was still and cold, unmoving. The oppressive dark of the coffin pressing in on all sides. It’s still and silent. Ilya hasn’t moved, it must have been days by now. He hasn’t been still like this for awhile but it’s not something he needs to think about, the plush pillow under his head is comfy enough. He keeps Shane pressed to his chest, his fingers wrapped in his hair. It was a close call to turn him. He hoped they hadn’t waited too long to decide. 

On what Ilya judges to be the fourth day, there’s a flutter. It’s so faint that Ilya thinks maybe his memory of Shane is tricking him. 

But there, there’s a pulse. It’s not human, not like it was before. It’s something deeper. Slower and stronger. It rolls through Shane’s body like distant thunder awakening beneath his skin. 

Ilya tightens his grip, his dead heart seizes. Is this it?

Shane’s back arches sharply, his fingers gripping at Ilya’s shirt. A sharp inhale. And then..

His eyes, oh his eyes. Crimson. Not the soft brown they once were. They’re bright, even luminous in the darkness. 

If Ilya had breath, it would be taken away. 

Shane blinks once, twice. He looks up at the lid of the coffin, then slowly turns his head. He’s still radiant. His freckles still dusted on his cheeks, his lips still soft. His lashes long and luscious. 

Death hasn’t taken him. It sharpened him. Shane lifts a hand in front of his face, turning it slowly. His skin looks the same yet.. Different. He flexes his fingers, curious. Then he touches his own cheek as if confirming he’s real. 

His eyes then meet Ilya’s and he really looks at him. In the smallest, cutest voice, so utterly Shane, he whispers, “Hi.”

Ilya makes a broken and breathless sound that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Hi,” He whispers back. “You’re.. Devastatingly handsome.

Shane’s lips curve immediately. “Oh good,” he says. “I was hoping I’d keep the freckles.”

Ilya huffs a soft laugh, cupping Shane’s face lovingly. “They survived, I suspect they’re indestructible.” 

Shane’s eyes flicker around again, sudden energy buzzing beneath his skin. “Oh.” His brows lift. “Oh.” He grins, wide and bright with a hint of danger. “I feel amazing.” 

Before Ilya can warn him—

Shane shoves the coffin lid open, it gives a loud crack as it slams against the wall. Wood splinters from the force. He vaults out in a blur, landing on his feet across the chamber. He’s staring at his hands again. Then he looks back at the fireplace. He laughs, the sound clear and bright with a touch of being just a little wild. “Oh my god— I can hear everything. I can hear Hayden pacing two floors down. I can hear… is that a mouse?”

He vanishes from one side of the room and appears on the other in a blink. “Ilya!” And then he launches himself forward.

Ilya barely has time to brace before Shane collides into his arms, legs wrapping tight around his waist. The force knocks them back a step, but Ilya holds him easily.

Shane buries his face into Ilya’s chest and laughs again, breathless and delighted. “I’m not dizzy,” he says into the fabric of Ilya’s shirt. “I’m not tired. I’m not…” His voice softens. “I’m here.”

Ilya’s hands come up slowly, almost afraid Shane might disappear if he moves too quickly. He threads his fingers into Shane’s hair and holds him tightly.

“You’re here,” he agrees, voice full of wonder. “And you scared me beyond reason.”

Shane tilts his head up, eyes glowing faintly red but warm. Still him. His face drops a little. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to..”

Ilya stares at him. The same freckles, the same smile, same softness even wrapped in immortal strength. “You are,” Ilya says quietly, brushing his thumb over Shane’s cheek, “the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Shane beams. Then his nose twitches, his expression shifts.

Curious. Focused.

“…I’m hungry.”

Chapter 11: Riches

Chapter Summary

Shane explores his new life, he's become a new person and he needs to learn what that means for him.

Chapter Notes

Hi guys! I have added one more chapter as there was just so much with Shane's family that I wanted explore.

Thanks guys for reading, love you lots <3

Shane has never felt so alive, everything so sharp, electric. Even his hunger can’t stop the awe. He can hear the wind brushing the highest towers. He can hear Marleau whispering three floors down, a rabbit’s heart racing somewhere beyond the outer wall. It’s intoxicating. He paces Ilya’s chamber with restless energy, laughing under his breath. “Is this how you feel all the time?”

Ilya stands near the doorway, watching him. Honestly, he’s a little ashamed. “Yes,” Ilya answers quietly. “And worse.”

Shane doesn’t notice the heaviness in his tone, he’s too busy smiling. There’s the faintest suggestion of fangs pressed against his lower lip. “I can smell everything,” Shane murmurs, turning his head toward the door. His smile falters slightly. “There are… a lot of people here.”

Ilya stiffens, too many humans here. Shane’s men, guards, stable boys. All with beating hearts. “I know,” Ilya says quickly. “We’re leaving. Immediately.”

Shane blinks at him. “Leaving?”

“Just outside the grounds,” Ilya corrects gently. “You need to feed properly. Not scraps. Not animals. And not here.”

Not near Hayden.

Shane tilts his head. The hunger is pulsing beneath his skin like a second heartbeat, he rubs his neck and gulps.  “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You won’t,” Ilya says, stepping forward carefully. “But we must move before instinct decides for you.”

There it is, a flicker of something darker in Shane’s eyes. Newly discovered instinct.

Ilya reaches for him slowly, brushing their fingers together. Shane’s skin is so cool now. Strong. “Come,” Ilya whispers.

They move quickly through the corridors. Ilya stays close, not quite touching, but near enough to catch him if needed.

Shane’s jaw tightens as they pass the floor housing his men. The scent. It’s overwhelming.

Warm. Sweet. Alive.

He’s near panting. 

“Almost outside,” Ilya murmurs.

They reach the grand lobby, the massive doors are just ahead. They’re so close to safety.

But then, out of nowhere. Someone Ilya really doesn’t want to see right now, 

“Shane?”

Shane freezes. Slowly, he turns.

Hayden is standing at the base of the stairs, still pale from healing and one arm in a sling. His eyes widen. 

Shane can hear it, Hayden’s heart. Steady. It thunders in his ears, growing louder and louder until it’s almost too much to bear. He’s too close. He needs to get out but.. His lips part and his fangs drop. 

He moves. Fast, inhumanly fast. 

Ilya reacts on instinct, grabbing him around the torso mid-lunge. The force nearly tears them both sideways.

“Shane!” Ilya snarls.

Shane struggles violently in his grip, a deep, feral growl ripping from his chest. His eyes are bright red now, locked on Hayden like prey.

“Ilya…” Hayden whispers, stumbling back. “Ilya..”

Shane thrashes harder. “I can smell him,” Shane chokes, his voice strained. “I can smell him Ilya!”

Svetlana appears in a blur, seizing Shane’s arms to help restrain him.

It takes both of them. Both ancient vampires strain to hold back one newborn.

Shane snaps his teeth, hissing, body rigid with hunger.

Hayden’s eyes fill with tears. “This is what I was worried about!” he shouts, voice breaking. “He has a family, Ilya! A mother! Father! What happens when he goes home?!”

Shane growls again, the sound monstrous, unrecognizable.

Hayden flinches away from Shane like he’d been struck.

For a split second, Shane’s expression flickers. Confusion, pain. But the hunger, god the hunger..

Svetlana tightens her grip. “We will discuss philosophy later!” she snaps at Hayden. “He needs blood now.”

Shane lunges again.

Ilya’s voice cracks. “Don’t look at him, Shane. Look at me. Shane!”

It takes effort, immense effort, but Shane moves his gaze to Ilya. The red in his eyes trembles. “I’m sorry,” Shane gasps, like he was drowning. “I don’t.. I don’t want to—”

“I know,” Ilya says fiercely.

Together, he and Svetlana drag Shane backward toward the doors.

Hayden stands frozen, tears streaking down his face as he watches his best friend snarl and fight like a trapped animal. A monster.

The doors burst open, cold air hits Shane’s face. He gasps.

Svetlana releases one arm and shoves them both forward. “Go. Hunt. Before he breaks something.”

Ilya doesn’t hesitate. He wraps both arms around Shane and launches them into the darkness beyond the castle grounds. Shane’s growls fade into the trees.

The lobby falls silent, leaving Hayden standing alone, Svetlana having raced to her room. He’s trembling. 

“…He’s not a monster.”

But his voice doesn’t sound convinced

When they return to the castle it’s covered in a layer of mist, it’s still and quiet. Flowers are blooming in all colours through the mist. It’s magical. 

Shane examines the flowers as he walks, he can easily spot each and every drop of condensation on the petals. He’s no longer being dragged, instead he walks beside Ilya, hand in hand. It’s anchoring him. 

Dried blood cracks in spots on his neck and chin. His steps are slower, calm now. Giving his vampire powers a rest. His eyes have changed, no longer red but a deep rich colour, nearly his human colour but if you look too close, you can see the difference. Monstrous in a way.

Shane tightens his hand in Ilya’s before they open the door, Ilya giving a slight nod. 

Hayden is there, standing in the lobby waiting for them. He looks nothing like himself. He’s pale from healing or from fear, he’s exhausted. His arm is in a sling now, after the apothecary visited a few hours ago.  

Shane meets his eyes but he doesn’t even know how to begin to explain how sorry he is. He swallows. “I fed,” he says quietly.

Hayden’s jaw tightens. “I can tell.”

Shane flinches, Ilya’s thumb presses reassuringly against the back of Shane’s hand, he won’t step in unless it’s to control. “I didn’t hurt anyone,” Shane adds. His voice is steadier now. “Not more than necessary. I stopped when I was supposed to.”

Hayden searches his face, his freckles are still there, his mouth still curves the same way. But there’s something new behind his eyes. Something older. “Do you… feel different?” Hayden asks carefully.

Shane considers it. “Yes,” he admits. “But not the way you think.” The silence stretches a bit longer than Shane would like but he’s trying to find the right words. “I feel stronger,” Shane says. “I feel awake. I feel like the world makes sense in a way it never did before.”

Hayden’s expression crumples slightly. “That’s not comforting.”

Shane almost smiles. “It’s not evil,” he says gently. “It’s just… different.”

Hayden’s gaze flicks to their joined hands. To Ilya.

“You almost killed me.”

The words sound soft but they hit hard. Shane’s fingers tighten around Ilya’s instantly. “I know,” he whispers.

The memory flashes through him… The heartbeat, the scent, the lunge. His stomach twists. “I didn’t want to,” he says quickly. “Hayden, I swear to you, I didn’t.”

“I saw your face,” Hayden says, voice shaking. “You weren’t there.”

Shane’s face changes, he’s still shaken. “I was,” he says. “I just… wasn’t driving.”

Ilya finally speaks, voice low and controlled. “He is a newborn vampire. The first days are chaotic. It will not always be like this.”

Hayden looks at him sharply. “You don’t know that.”

Ilya accepts that. “I will make sure it isn’t,” he says instead.

Shane’s room feels smaller now, different. Shane had decided he was okay to talk to Hayden alone. Ilya wasn’t too sure about that so he’s standing in the doorway, he promised not to interrupt. To not even think. His back is turned. 

Hayden is studying Shane, his best friend, his prince. This is the same boy who used to insist on playing tag in the palace gardens even though he was very uncoordinated and often ended up hurting himself. Now here he is, standing tall, his skin luminous in the torchlight. He’s bound together with a centuries old vampire. 

“Does it hurt?” Hayden asks quietly.

Shane shakes his head. “No.”

“Does it scare you?”

Shane hesitates. “…Yes.”

That seems to soften something in Hayden.

Shane steps forward slowly. Carefully. Holding his breath. “I am still me,” Shane says. “I still care about you. I still care about my family. I still care about our people.”

Hayden’s eyes fill again. “But you’re not human.”

Shane’s jaw tightens. “No,” he agrees.

The word hits, not human.

Ilya shifts at the door, his protective side is kicking in. But he promised not to interfere and he won’t. 

Shane lifts his chin. “But I am not a monster either.”

The room goes quiet again.

Hayden looks between them. “You’re going to outlive us all,” he says suddenly.

It’s not an accusation, it’s grief.

Shane doesn’t answer right away. “I might not have chosen this, technically,” he says at last. “But I would have...”

Hayden’s brows draw together. “You chose him.”

Shane glances at Ilya. “Yes.”

That lands differently. It doesn’t seem so much like a curse anymore.

Hayden exhales shakily. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admits. “I don’t know how to be your friend in this world.”

Shane wants nothing more than to reach over and bring Hayden into his arms, he just wants Hayden to know that he’s the same. But he’s not. He can’t go any closer. “We’ll figure it out,” he says quietly. “Like we always do.”

Hayden gives a weak, tearful huff of a laugh. “You always drag me into madness.”

Shane’s lips curve. “And you always follow.”

They look into each other's eyes, taking a long pause in conversation. Hayden’s eyes brim with tears but then.. He nods. A slight nod. 

Not exactly acceptance but not a rejection either. 

Behind Shane, Ilya watches the exchange with something fragile in his chest. Hope.

Shane glances back at him briefly, just a flicker. Then looks at Hayden again. “I won’t hurt you,” he says firmly. “I promise.”

Hayden studies him. “…You better not.”

Shane’s smile this time is small. Almost shy. “Hi,” he says softly. It’s the same tone he used when he woke up.

Hayden swallows hard. “Hi,” he answers.

The doors of the castle burst open without warning. A gust of night air sweeps through the foyer, carrying with it a scent Ilya knows too well.

Old obsession. Old mistakes.

Sasha steps inside like he owns the place. Arms spread, smile sharp. “Ilyyyyyaaa,” he purrs, voice echoing up the marble staircase. “I’ve had time to think. I may have overreacted—”

He stops dead.

Because at the top of the staircase stands Ilya. And beside him…

Shane.

Alive, radiant. Vampire.

Shane’s hand rests calmly in the crook of Ilya’s arm. His posture is elegant now, effortless. His freckles dust pale immortal skin, his eyes darker, knowing. He’s been claimed. 

Sasha’s face drains of smug delight. “…No.”

Ilya descends the stairs slowly. “You’re trespassing,” Ilya says coolly.

Sasha laughs once, sharp and disbelieving. He points at Shane incrediously. “You turned him?” His eyes rake over Shane. “You ruined him.”

Shane tilts his head slightly. “Funny. I feel fantastic.” He’s trying to be confident but Sasha literally murdered him a few days ago, the vampire’s voice was the last thing he heard, his cold hands were the last thing he felt. 

Sasha’s lip curls. “You were supposed to die.”

Ilya’s jaw tightens. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Sasha’s composure fractures. “You chose him over me? Over us?” he spits. “You made him one of us. You chained him to this curse.”

Shane’s fingers tighten slightly around Ilya’s arm. “I wanted it,” Shane says calmly. “That’s the difference.”

Sasha’s eyes flash red and rage explodes off him in a wave. “You think this is romantic?” he snarls. “You think eternity is some fairytale?”

He launches forward, Shane and Ilya raise their arms ready to fight but the door slams open again. A thunder of hooves shake the foyer. 

Marleau was at the front, framed in the doorway. His armor is dented and expression murderous. 

Behind him there’s a full pack of centaurs crowding the entrance. They’re armed and furious. 

Sasha freezes.

Marleau cracks his neck once. “You,” he says flatly.

Sasha bares his teeth. “This is vampire business.”

One of the centaurs snorts. “You killed in our forest.”

Another stamps a hoof, splintering tile.

Marleau’s gaze drifts lazily over Sasha. “We’ve been meaning to teach a vampire a lesson.”

Sasha glances back at Ilya, betrayed and panicked. “You called them?”

Ilya blinks once. “No.”

Sasha doesn’t get another second to process that.

The centaurs surge forward, it’s chaos.

Hooves.

Shouting.

Snarling.

Sasha fights. He’s fast and vicious, but there are too many. Too strong. Centaur strength is brutal, coordinated, territorial.

Marleau grabs him first and slams him into a pillar hard enough to crack stone.

Sasha hisses, fangs out.

A spear haft pins his arm, another centaur grabs his other shoulder. They drag him backward toward the doors.

Sasha screams in fury. “Ilya! You would let them-”

Marleau grins. “Oh, I’ve got dibs on ripping a leg off.”

The centaurs haul Sasha into the night, his curses echo and then fade.

Silence returns to the foyer, bits of broken tile scatter the floor.

Shane slowly turns his head toward Ilya. “…Did you know that was going to happen?”

Ilya watches the shattered doorway a moment longer then looks down at him. “No idea.”

Shane hums. “…Huh.”

They both stand there for a second. Then Shane starts laughing, he’s so relieved.

Ilya stares at him, stunned.

“You just had your homicidal ex dragged away by a centaur militia,” Shane says between breaths. “Is that a regular Tuesday for you?”

Ilya’s mouth twitches. “Usually Thursdays.”

Shane laughs harder and presses his forehead to Ilya’s shoulder. He wraps his arms around Ilya’s waist, swaying them both gently.  

Behind them, Hayden hands with his hands on his hips. “…I’m going to need so much wine.”

Svetlana appears at the balcony above, arms folded. “Marleau has been waiting years for that,” she calls down calmly. “To release his instincts and rip a vampire limb from limb.” 

Shane lifts his head and looks at Ilya again “You didn’t ruin me,” he says quietly, his voice certain.

Ilya’s composure falters just a little. “I was afraid I had.”

Shane smiles. “Next time your ex shows up, though? Maybe a warning.”

Ilya leans down slightly, voice low and warm. “There will not be a next time.”

Outside, in the distance a very faint, very indignant scream echoes through the trees.

Shane winces. “…Do you think they’re actually going to rip his leg off?”

Ilya considers it. “Yes.”

Shane nods once. “Fair.”

The castle is still buzzing with relief, centaur laughter is echoing throughout the forest. Hayden finally accepted a goblet of wine from Ilya, a clear sign that he is beginning to relax. Ilya feels lighter, like he’s now less burdened by the events that have transpired from the moment Shane and his men entered the castle those weeks ago. 

Shane is glowing. He hasn’t stopped smiling since Sasha was dragged away.

“I think,” Hayden is saying carefully, “that this might be the most unhinged week of my life.”

“Only this week?” Shane teases.

Ilya watches him, watches the way he laughs now without restraint, how immortality sits on him like something he was always meant to wear. He leans over and presses a light kiss to Shane’s lips, not wanting to make Hayden too uncomfortable even though Ilya could just take Shane apart right here in the scarcely used throne room.

Out of nowhere, a soft shriek splits the air. It’s magical yet violent. A streak of fire tears through the castle before slamming into the throne room, spiraling into a hovering ember. 

Hayden flinches, Shane freezes. They know exactly what that means, royal fire magic. The ember splits into parchment midair and drops at Shane’s feet. The seal is unmistakable, his family crest. His smile fades immediately. The air seems to turn cold around the men. 

Shane bends down to pick up the letter with shaking hands, his parents.. How could he explain what has happened to him? The light in his body seems to fade as he reads, his eyes flickering to red. He’s stunned, and scared.

“They know,” he says quietly.

Ilya’s body goes rigid.

“Know what?” Hayden asks, even though he already does.

Shane swallows. “They know I’ve become a vampire.”

Svetlana steps closer. “But how? How could they possibly know?”

Shane’s jaw tightens. “The bond between royal bloodlines is ancient. Maybe if a monarch dies or changes… they feel it?”

Ilya’s chest tightens.

Shane looks back down at the letter. “My father says I am to return home immediately.”

Hayden exhales shakily. “That’s… that’s not terrible buddy.”

Shane doesn’t look relieved. “My mother wrote the second half.” He pauses. “She says if I refuse…” His voice falters slightly.

Ilya moves closer and wraps around Shane from behind, holding him tightly.

Shane finishes reading in a whisper. “…they will consider me dead.”

Dead. All over again. 

Ilya presses a kiss to Shane’s neck, his heart is breaking for this beautiful man he loves. Or vampire now. 

Shane looks up slowly, blood red tears start to well up in his eyes. “They know what I am,” he says. “And they’re ashamed.”

Hayden looks furious. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” Shane agrees quietly. The parchment crinkles in his grip. “They say I’ve endangered the crown. That rumors are already spreading. That neighboring kingdoms will see weakness.” He moves away from Ilya’s grasp and wraps his arms around himself. “I was supposed to bring home diamonds.” He whispers. 

“Shane..” Ilya starts, Shane is starting to spiral, he’s done this before but not as a vampire. It’s dangerous.  

“Now I’ve ruined everything.” 

“If they threaten you..”

“They’re my parents,” Shane snaps. Shane looks down at his hands, at the faint veins beneath new immortal skin. 

“At least they didn’t threaten war,” Hayden mutters weakly.

Shane looks at him. “They didn’t need to. They want me home,” he says. “To explain myself.”

Ilya’s golden eyes darken. “You don’t have to go.”

Shane meets his gaze. “I do.”

And that’s the worst part, he has to go and show himself. A prince, a vampire. Both. But that has never before happened in the history of Montreal and its neighbouring kingdoms. 

“This can’t be happening.” Shane rubs his face, he starts pacing at a human speed. “I am ruined.. God I didn’t stop to think about Rose.. My engagement will be called off, then what am I to do..?” 

Ilya’s chest tightens, he reaches out for Shane. “Darling stop..” 

“You did this to me!” Shane turns, snapping at Ilya. He yells, louder than Hayden has ever heard him. “I can’t go home! How could I ever!? Did you stop and think about what you did to me!?” 

Ilya’s eyes darken, tears falling down his cheeks. “Shane.. Please..” 

“You ruined me!” Shane grabs a nearby table and throws it across the throne room, making it shatter against the castle wall. 

Hayden gasps, taking a step back. “Buddy..” 

Shane growls at him. “You could have stopped him..”

“Shane.. You were dead…” Hayden whispers.

“Well I should have stayed that way!” Shane turns towards the thrones and starts to grab at one to throw it. 

“Shane!” Ilya grabs the throne from him and puts it back down, he grabs Shane’s arms tightly. “Shane! Listen to me!” 

Shane growls, his red eyes are near feral. 

“Shane, you need to feed, your vampire hormones are making you angry. I can help.” Ilya says, leaning closer and tightening his grip on Shane’s wrists. “I can help.” 

Shane grows a low, animal groan. He can’t focus. 

“Come, come with me.” Ilya begs. 

Shane gives the very slightest nod, he relaxes his wrists in Ilya’s grasp.

Okay, we can do this. We can handle this. Together.

The letter sits on the small side table in Ilya’s room. Shane hasn’t touched it again. He’s standing at the window of Ilya’s chamber, staring out at the forest. Blood from a young maid on her way to work is still on his lips, dripping down his neck. She lived, Ilya made sure of that. But what life? She must be traumatised. Shane had completely lost control. And in front of Hayden. Again. 

He yelled at Ilya. He told Ilya things that are completely untrue but that he knew they would hurt him, why would he do that? 

“I am sorry.” Shane says, knowing Ilya is surely watching nearby anxiously. 

“I know you are.” Ilya replies. “I am the one that is sorry, I should have known that being a vampire is not what you wanted.” 

Shane turns around, Ilya is standing beside his bed, eyes glinting in the torchlight. He looks so sad, so painfully sad. Shane’s heart hurts for him. “Ilya..” He walks over and runs his hands up and down Ilya’s arms. “What I said.. It didn’t mean anything. I am so, so happy to be here with you. To be a vampire.” 

Ilya closes his eyes and nods, unable to look Shane in the eye. 

“I am so glad that I’m not dead, not gone forever.” He clarifies. “I love you, Ilya.” He reaches up and wipes a tear from Ilya’s cheek. “Thank you, for saving me.” 

Ilya opens his eyes again, a few tears drop as he does so. “I love you too.” He bends down and lifts Shane into his arms, wrapping his legs around him. “So much.” 

Shane smiles before leaning down to kiss Ilya, he kisses him desperately, finding it so hard to hold back. He grips the hair at the back of Ilya’s neck and pulls back, bringing Ilya’s head up so Shane can kiss deeper. 

Ilya moans and drops back on to his bed, his hands roam from Shane’s back and down his ass. They’re the same temperature now. It’s different but the desire is still exactly where it was before. Shane is even more beautiful than before, Ilya wants him that much more. But he also wants to see what Shane is going to do. 

Shane rips his shirt off and throws it aside. Ilya’s hands immediately stroke his chest with cold hands, he’s in awe, touching so softly it almost tickles Shane. He starts kissing Ilya’s neck, sucking and biting but not using his fangs. He can feel his fangs descend as he lavishes attention on Ilya. He grinds down on him, rocking back and forth, feeling the swell of Ilya’s cock under his pants. 

Ilya is gasping, his nails scrapping down Shane’s back. It feel so fucking good, not worrying about hurting him anymore. 

Shane is quick to get his hands under Ilya’s shirt, he tries to be gentle but his strength is hard to control and he rips the shirt right off Ilya’s body. He splays his hands on Ilya’s chest before moving them down. He undoes the buttons on Ilya’s pants and desperately shoves his hand in, he needs to feel the weight of his cock in his hands again. 

They hadn’t gotten around to having sex since Shane was turned and he wants this so bad. He pushes Ilya so he’s lying on his back, with one hand he trails his fingertips down Ilya’s chest. It’s so fun to watch Ilya’s expressions change, from awe to passion to desire. He lays his head back, keeping his hands on Shane’s waist, running his hands up and down his toned thighs. 

Shane stands up long enough to pull Ilya’s pants down, he throws them, probably further than necessary. He takes his own pants off, exposing his ignored cock. He climbs back over on his knees, absolutely shameless and a bit of a slut. He doesn’t even feel ashamed. It doesn’t matter anymore. He brings Ilya’s cock into his mouth and runs his tongue up and down the shaft. 

“Fuck Shane!” Ilya’s hand weaves its way into Shane’s hair and holds him there. 

God it’s hot, Ilya losing control like this. Shane is going to surprise him this time. He leans down behind himself and starts fingering his hole. 

“What are you doing?” Ilya whines. 

Shane pulls off and blinks up at Ilya. “What do you mean?” 

“You’re a vampire now,” Ilya groans, writhing against the sheets. “You don’t need to open up, it won’t hurt you now.” 

Oh.. Oh yeah. “I forgot.” Shane smirks. 

Ilya huffs a laugh. “How could you forget?” 

Shane pouts. “I was a bit busy with something, I could stop if you want?” 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Ilya growls and wraps his hand around the back of Shane’s neck. 

Shane grins widely before plunging back down on Ilya’s dick, he licks and sucks, it’s much easier without needing to breathe. He almost pushes Ilya too far too soon, forgetting how much time has passed while he bobs. 

“Wait.. Stop..” Ilya groans, pulling Shane gently by the hair. 

Shane pulls off and licks his lips. “Guess I got a bit carried away.” 

“If you want me to fuck you, you’ll need to stop sweetheart.” 

Shane runs his hands over Ilya’s chest. “Actually, I had another idea.” 

“Oh?” Ilya raises an eyebrow. 

Shane climbs onto Ilya’s lap and sighs, he raises up and holds Ilya’s cock still while sinking down slowly, inch by inch. He moans loudly as he bottoms out and presses his hands hard on Ilya’s chest. “Oh..” 

Ilya’s eyes are wide, they turn red, his fangs drop. He looks up at Shane with deep lustful eyes. “Oh my gods..” His nails dig into Shane’s hips. 

Shane starts moving, up and down, encouraged by Ilya’s tight grip on him. He’s still astonished that he doesn’t need any kind of lubrication. How does that even work? No, don't question it. Just enjoy it. All kinds of sexy noises leave his lips, desperate and loud. Ilya starts thrusting up and down in time with Shane. God it’s so much, it’s so hot. Shane’s voice goes higher as he moans. 

Then Ilya reaches up and strokes Shane’s leaking cock, moving in rhythm with Shane’s body. His moans increase in frequency and noise level. Getting closer. 

Shane can’t hold back anymore, he cums hard, all across Ilya’s chest. It’s a pleasant heat all up and down his body. It’s different from being a human. Every nerve in his body feels like it’s on fire, his whole body is tingling so much he can’t move. His mouth is open, endless whimpers coming from his lips. 

Next thing he knows, he’s on his back, Ilya flipped them swiftly, not leaving his place inside Shane. He thrusts over and over quickly until he cries out and releases inside Shane. He lowers his head to Shane’s shoulder and whimpers quietly, he grabs his shoulders and squeezes as he comes down slowly from his high. 

Shane holds him through it. He runs his hand through Ilya’s curls and smiles, how could this moment be any more perfect.

Ilya kisses Shane’s forehead and then his neck before settling beside him, they’re still naked on Ilya’s bed. The fireplace is crackling in the corner of the room, the flames reflecting on their glassy skin. Ilya takes Shane’s hand and kisses it lovingly, one finger at a time. 

Shane sighs, he lays back on the pillow, it’s clear something is bothering him. 

“Shane darling, are you okay?” 

He doesn’t say anything, he’s trying to search for the right words but instead he speaks in a low voice. “They hate me,” he says finally.

Ilya sits up against the headboard, effortlessly bringing Shane with him. He keeps Shane’s head on his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

“They know what I am,” Shane replies. “That’s worse.” His fingers flex at his sides. “I was supposed to strengthen the crown,” Shane continues. “Bring wealth. Secure alliances. Marry well.” A humorless breath escapes him. “Instead I died. Then came back cursed.”

“You are not cursed,” Ilya says quietly.

Shane doesn’t argue. He just looks tired. “Well I can’t go back empty-handed,” he says after a moment. “If they think I’ve traded my humanity for nothing—”

“You haven’t,” Ilya cuts in gently.

Shane looks at him then. Really looks. “For love?” Shane says softly. “That’s not currency in court.”

“It can be,” he says. “But if they insist on gold… I have that too.”

Shane blinks up at him. “What?”

“Ilya,” Svetlana says from the doorway

“AH!” Shane covers himself with a sheet from Ilya’s bed, scrambling back towards the headboard. 

Ilya huffs a laugh, he doesn’t cover himself up. It’s just Svetlana. He ignores her and continues, despite Shane being very clearly uncomfortable. 

“In the lower vaults,” Ilya continues calmly, “there are treasures accumulated over centuries. Tribute. Spoils. Gifts from kingdoms long since fallen.”

Shane gulps and looks away from Svetlana and keeps himself covered. “You’re joking.”

“I am not.” Ilya rubs Shane’s shoulder in comfort. “Consider it a change gift.”

Shane arches a brow faintly. “A what?”

“A vampire birthday present,” Ilya clarifies, almost shy about it.

Despite everything, Shane’s lips twitch. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yes,” Svetlana mutters. “He is.” But she gestures toward the corridor anyway. “Come. Before he offers you the crown jewels of three empires.”

Shane looks at her and then looks down. 

“You can get dressed first, obviously.” She picks up Shane’s pants and throws them at him before leaving the room. 

Once dressed, they descend into the lower levels of the castle. The entrance was hidden behind a bookcase in the library. It was very whimsical if slightly dramatic. 

The air seems colder down here, it feels heavy. The stone walls narrow slightly as they move deeper, illuminated only by the torch in Svetlana’s hand. 

Shane’s throat feels tight, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands tighten into fists. He slows down unintentionally. 

This corridor is dim, enclosed and underground. The memories start flooding back, his last memories alive. The chains, the smell of blood, his own blood. 

Sasha’s basement.

Shane stops walking.

Ilya notices immediately. “Shane?”

Shane’s chest rises too fast. His hands curl inward like he’s bracing for impact. “I’m fine,” he says quickly. He is not.

Ilya steps in front of him gently, blocking the corridor so Shane doesn’t have to look past him. “You’re not in a dungeon,” Ilya says softly.

Shane laughs once, sharp and embarrassed. “I know that.” But his eyes have gone distant.

Ilya doesn’t argue, he steps forward and pulls Shane into him. 

Shane stiffens for half a second but then he melts. His forehead presses against Ilya’s shoulder. His hands clutch at the back of Ilya’s coat like he’s anchoring himself.

“I remember the last time I was underground,” Shane admits quietly.

Ilya’s arms tighten. “I know.”

“You’re safe,” Ilya murmurs against his hair. “This is my home. Not his.”

Shane’s trembling slows, the panic starts to recede inch by inch. “I hate that it still gets to me,” Shane says.

“It should,” Ilya replies. “It means you survived it… Sort of.”

That earns a small, real breath of laughter.

After a moment, Shane pulls back. His eyes are steady again. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go steal your treasure.”

The vault doors are massive iron, etched with old sigils. Inside is gold. Chests stacked high, coins spilling from cracked lids. Necklaces, goblets, ceremonial blades, gemstones that catch torchlight and scatter it like stars.

Shane just stares. “…You live like this?”

“I forget it’s here,” Ilya admits.

Svetlana snorts. “Because you have no sense of fiscal responsibility.” She moves immediately toward a carved wooden chest in the far corner. “Not that one,” she says sharply as Ilya reaches toward a delicate gold circlet. “That is my grandmother’s.”

Ilya withdraws his hand without protest.

Shane crouches near an open chest of coins, running his fingers lightly through them. The metallic scent is faint compared to blood, but still grounding. “This could stabilize three provinces,” he murmurs.

“Take what you need,” Ilya says.

Svetlana turns slowly. “What he needs,” she corrects, “is not my ancestral war spoils.” She inspects a heavy gold torque in Ilya’s hand, squints at it, then nods once. “Fine. That one was looted from a tyrant. You may give it away.”

Shane looks between them, overwhelmed. “I can’t take this much.”

“You can,” Ilya says. “And you will.”

Shane stands slowly. “You’re sure?”

Ilya steps closer, brushing a thumb along Shane’s jaw. “I could empty this room and still have eternity left,” he says softly. “Let me give you something that makes your return easier.”

Shane studies him, then nods. “Okay,” he says quietly.

Svetlana claps her hands once. “Good. We will assemble a respectable offering. Something impressive, but not sentimental.” She points at Ilya. “And you will not give him that chalice. That one is absolutely mine.”

Ilya looks mildly offended, he presses a hand to his chest and sticks his tongue out. 

These two.. They’re his new family and he’s so grateful for this, for them. 

He’s prepared now, with all this, he could win his kingdom back.

Chapter 12: Family

Chapter Summary

Ilya meets his new family

Chapter Notes

Again I just love you guys, thank you so much for reading. I can't believe it's almost over :'(

They leave before midnight, the treasure is packed carefully into reinforced chests and secured to the horses. 

Shane had asked Ilya to come with him, not that there was any way Ilya was letting him go alone. 

Shane’s soldiers are nervous, there is an air of uneasiness. They’re bringing vampires back to their kingdom, one being the prince they swore to protect. 

Ilya and Svetlana stand at the gates of their castle like reluctant ghosts. Neither has crossed beyond the boundary in decades.

Svetlana stares at the forest. “It’s changed,” she mutters.

“It’s the same forest,” Ilya replies.

“No,” she says flatly. “It’s louder.”

Shane adjusts the strap across his shoulder and crouches in front of Hayden. “Up you go.”

Hayden glares. “I can walk.”

“You can limp,” Shane corrects. “And we need to move quickly, and you still can’t control a horse in your state.”

Before Hayden can argue further, Shane lifts him easily onto his back. Effortless. Hayden goes quiet. “…You’re strong,” he mutters.

Shane smiles faintly. “I noticed.”

The soldiers mount their horses.

Ilya glances at the sky. “We leave now,” he says firmly. “We must reach the river crossing before dawn.”

Shane nods. Then immediately starts walking without checking the sky again.

They move through the forest at a steady pace, the horses carry the treasure and the men. The vampires move on foot. It’s faster that way.

Ilya and Svetlana glide between trees like shadows. Shane keeps pace easily. It’s fun remembering that he doesn’t ever tire, he can hop along with endless stamina at the speed of the horse's trot. Even with Hayden on his back. 

Hayden speaks quietly near Shane’s ear, “what’s it like, being a vampire?” 

Shane lifts him higher. “It’s.. loud.”

“Loud?”

“I can hear everything,” Shane explains. “Your heartbeat. The horses breathing. Ilya’s steps even when he’s trying to be quiet.”

Hayden glances ahead. Ilya does not turn around but the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Do you regret it?” Hayden asks.

Shane is quiet for several steps. “No,” he says softly.

Hayden exhales. “Good.” He ruffles Shane’s hair. “I was afraid you would, after what I heard the other night anyway.”

Shane’s smile fades. “I don’t regret it, but I regret almost hurting you.”

Hayden huffs weakly. “Yes, well. I’d prefer not to relive that.”

They walk in silence again.

Then Hayden lowers his voice. “You still feel like you,” he says.

Shane doesn’t answer immediately. “I am me,” he says at last. “Just… more.”

Hayden leans his chin on Shane’s shoulder. “You better not start brooding like him,” he mutters, nodding toward Ilya.

Shane laughs quietly. “I make no promises.”

Ahead, Svetlana suddenly stops.

The soldiers nearly ride past her.

She’s staring at the horizon. “It’s been too long,” she murmurs.

Ilya steps beside her. “Yes.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like anything.”

She gives him a sharp look. “I don’t like leaving control.” That’s closer to the truth.

Ilya’s gaze flicks back to Shane.

Neither of them say it out loud but they’re not just leaving their home. They’re walking into a political battlefield.

An hour later, Shane slows. “I forgot,” he says suddenly.

Ilya’s head snaps toward the sky. The eastern horizon is faintly greying. “Shane,” Ilya says sharply.

“Oh.”

The soldiers notice the tension immediately.

“How long?” Hayden asks.

“Not long,” Svetlana answers.

Ilya moves quickly to Shane’s side. “We must move faster. Now.”

Shane nods, embarrassed. “Right. Sunrise. Still adjusting.”

He tightens his hold on Hayden. “Hold on.”

“What—”

Shane runs. Not human running, not even vampire measured speed. He moves like a streak of shadow through the forest.

The wind tears through Hayden’s hair as he clings to Shane’s shoulders. “Warn me next time!” Hayden yells.

Behind them, Ilya and Svetlana blur forward as well.

The soldiers struggle to keep pace on horseback.

The forest opens toward the river crossing just as the first sliver of sun touches the horizon.

They dive beneath the stone arch of an old ruined bridge.

Shade.

The sunlight creeps across the forest floor and stops just short of them.

Shane exhales. “That was close.”

Ilya looks at him. Half exasperated, half impressed. “You cannot forget that again.”

“I won’t, but I thought you were supposed to remind me, I’m still new.”

“I thought I was stepping back and trusting your judgement young prince.”

Svetlana rolls her eyes. “You two are going to be exhausting.”

Hayden shifts on Shane’s back. “For the record,” he mutters, “I miss horses.”

Shane laughs softly and bends down so he can place Hayden against the bridge to rest up. 

Ilya watches him. How could one person be so fucking perfect? He’s immortal now and still himself, more alive than ever. He’s so brave as well, walking straight towards a kingdom that might reject him. 

The sun has fully risen now, the vampires have to wait in the safety of the shadows until night falls. Their journey has only just begun.

Light spills over the forest beyond, golden and warm. The soldiers settle the horses in the shade to keep them cool before lazing around in the sun and washing off in the river. The chests of gold are secured under the bridge with the vampires. No one speaks much.

Shane sits against the cool stone of the arch. At first, he’s fine. Then he starts to hear something. At first it's like a quiet flutter, like the wings of a butterfly. Then more insistent. Shane can’t figure out what it is at first, it’s a pounding in his head that seems to fill his entire being. It’s Hayden. His heartbeat. It’s steady, strong and so close. 

It’s louder in the daylight hours. With the sun up, the world quiets for vampires. Sounds sharpen and blood sings.

Shane shifts.

Hayden notices immediately. “You okay buddy?”

Shane nods too quickly. “Fine.”

He isn’t. The pulse in Hayden’s throat is rhythmic and inviting.

Shane swallows.

Across the archway, Ilya goes very still. He can smell it now too. He moves without drawing attention and crouches beside Shane.

“You fed well last night,” Ilya says quietly.

Shane nods. “Yes.”

But his jaw is tight and his pupils are slightly blown.

Svetlana watches from the other side of the arch, arms crossed. She doesn’t intervene yet.

Hayden shifts closer instinctively.

And that’s when it spikes. Shane’s head turns sharply toward him.

The sound of blood rushing under skin is intoxicating. Shane inhales.

Ilya’s hand closes around Shane’s wrist immediately. “Focuse, don’t breathe” he murmurs.

Shane’s fangs press against his lower lip, he clamps his jaw shut. “It hurts,” Shane whispers.

That surprises Hayden. “What hurts?”

“My throat,” Shane says. “It feels like it’s burning.”

Ilya’s expression darkens, newborns need to feed often. Or they suffer. But he hadn’t realised quite the extent that Shane would be at. 

He looks toward the soldiers, a few of them notice the tension now. Fear flickers in their eyes.

Ilya calculates quickly. One willing donor would stabilize Shane. But asking?

Risky.

Hayden sees the calculation. “No,” he says immediately.

Ilya looks at him. “You are injured.”

“I don’t care,” Hayden snaps quietly. “You’re not feeding him one of the men.”

Shane squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t want—” he starts, but the words die. The hunger spikes again. He can hear Hayden’s pulse stutter with emotion, he leans forward slightly.

Ilya tightens his grip and pulls him back. “Shane.” Stern now.

Shane’s breathing is ragged. “It’s too loud,” he whispers. “I can hear everything.” He covers his ears in a weak attempt to stop the thoughts. 

Svetlana steps forward finally. “You need discipline,” she says calmly. “Not panic.”

Hayden moves closer despite himself. “Take mine.”

Ilya’s head snaps toward him. “No.”

“I’m offering,” Hayden says stubbornly. “He’s my prince.”

Shane’s eyes flash red at the word blood unspoken.

Ilya shifts instantly, pulling Shane against his chest, arm locking around his shoulders. “You cannot feed from him right now,” Ilya says firmly. “You are unstable.”

“I can handle it,” Shane insists but his voice isn’t steady.

Svetlana kneels in front of him. “Look at me,” she says.

Shane tries, his gaze wavers back to Hayden’s throat.

Svetlana grabs his chin sharply. “Look. At. Me.”

He does.

Her eyes are cool and ancient. “You do not take from those you love when you are hungry,” she says evenly. “You feed when you are in control. Or you do not feed at all.”

Shane trembles, the pain in his throat spikes. It feels like thirst and fire and needles all at once.

Hayden swallows. “I can handle it,” he repeats, softer now.

Ilya’s voice drops low. “You think you can. But if he loses control for one second…” He doesn’t finish.

Shane’s nails dig into the stone behind him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says hoarsely.

Hayden’s eyes shine. “I know.”

Ilya makes a decision. He pulls Shane fully against him, pressing his palm to the back of Shane’s neck. “Focus on me,” he says.

“Ilya—”

“On me.” Ilya tilts his own wrist slightly, just enough that the scent shifts.

Shane inhales. The soulmate scent is different from ordinary blood, it steadies instead of inflames.

Svetlana watches closely. “Good,” she murmurs.

Minutes pass.

Pain throbs through Shane’s throat but slowly, slowly, the frenzy dulls. His eyes fade from red back to deep brown.

Hayden lets out a shaky exhale.

Shane slumps slightly, exhausted from fighting it. “I hate that,” he mutters weakly.

“It will get easier,” Ilya says.

“It’d better.”

Svetlana stands. “You are days old,” she says bluntly. “You are doing well.”

Shane huffs faintly. “I almost tackled him.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “But you did not.”

Hayden sits carefully beside him again slower this time. “You’re not a monster,” he says quietly.

Shane glances at him. “I felt like one.”

“You didn’t act like one.”

Ilya keeps an arm around Shane’s shoulders. He doesn’t let go.

And Shane, for the first time, has chosen restraint over hunger.

It’s a small victory but it’s his.

Darkness finally falls, Shane has kept himself composed all day and now the hunger has slowly returned. It’s not feral like it was before but it’s insistent. A steady ache in his throat. 

“Before we reach the castle,” Ilya says quietly, “you must feed.”

Shane nods.

Hayden looks between them. “You’ll be careful?”

Shane gives him a small smile. “I will.”

Svetlana gestures toward the treeline. “Not near the road. We do this cleanly.”

The soldiers are told to remain beneath the arch until summoned. They don’t question it. The three vampires disappear into the forest.

The night air is cool. Shane moves differently now. Less frantic, more deliberate. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he says softly.

“You won’t,” Ilya assures him. “You will take enough. No more.”

They find a lone traveler on the forest path. A merchant slightly off-course, humming to himself, unaware.

Svetlana steps out first, her voice becomes silk.

He never even sees Shane approach.

Ilya stands close, not interfering, but ready.

Shane takes the man’s wrist into his mouth and bites down on that throbbing vein, god it feels like milk after eating spicy food. It soothes him, cools him. He takes it deep into himself. His skin stops tingling, the colour reaches his cheeks. He feels the moment when instinct urges him to continue. Then he stops, he pulls away. 

The man sways, dazed but alive.

Svetlana seals the wound cleanly. “Well done,” she says simply.

Shane wipes his mouth, steady now. His eyes glow faintly before settling back to blue. The ache in his throat is gone. His mind is clear. “I’m ready,” he says.

They move quickly after that.

The soldiers mount up.

The final stretch of road toward Shane’s kingdom rises through gentle hills and cultivated land. Fields. Farmhouses. Familiar silhouettes.

Shane grows quieter with every mile.

Ilya walks beside him. “Regretting it?” Ilya asks softly.

Shane shakes his head. “Just… remembering.”

The towers of his family’s castle rise ahead, tall and white against the night sky. Home.

His chest tightens.

They approach under full darkness, torches flicker along the battlements.

The guards tense at the sight of approaching figures and then freeze. “Your Highness?”

Shane steps forward into the torchlight.

He looks the same. Mostly. His posture is sharper now. His stillness is unnatural. But his face, his freckles. His smile.

“It’s me,” he says calmly.

The guards exchange uneasy glances. “We were told—”

“I know what you were told,” Shane interrupts gently. “And we will address that tomorrow.” He gestures behind him. “These are my… companions.” A slight pause before the word. “I require entry. And unobstructed access to my chambers.”

The guards hesitate, one of them swallows. “You’ve… changed, Your Highness.”

Shane meets his eyes evenly. “Yes.”

Ilya nudges him subtly. 

“Yes, it was a long journey. Of course I’ve changed.” 

A long silence. Then the gates open.

Inside, the castle is dim. Servants whisper as they pass.

Shane keeps his expression neutral. No fangs. No glowing eyes.

Just a prince returning home.

He leads Ilya and Svetlana through familiar corridors. “I never thought I’d bring you here,” he murmurs quietly.

Ilya surveys the tapestries, the stone, the history. “You were always meant for something larger,” he replies.

Svetlana hums. “It smells excessively human.”

Shane huffs a quiet laugh.

They reach his chambers and close the doors behind them. 

Shane stands in the center of the room. His childhood bed. His desk. His balcony overlooking the gardens. Everything looks exactly the same, just.. Smaller. And in a way, everything seems to have a dull sheen to it. 

Tomorrow, he will face his parents. Tomorrow, he will stand before the court.

But tonight, he holds himself with his arms, his nails scratching at his skin. “I don’t know how the fuck I can do this.”

Ilya steps closer, gently taking Shane’s hands in his to stop him hurting himself. “You will not do it alone.”

Svetlana moves toward the heavy curtains, drawing them shut against the moonlight. “Rest,” she says. “You will need clarity.”

Shane nods. He feels like he wants to cry but there’s a part of him that couldn’t bear the thought of crying right now, he only wants one thing. He wants to hold Ilya in his arms and never let go. He looks over at Ilya and reaches out a hand.

Ilya is quick to take the hand in both of his, he brings it to his lips and kisses it. He knows this is going to be hard for Shane, both physically and mentally. All he can do is be here with him. “Shane, I love you, and I am here with you.” 

Shane nods and brings Ilya into his arms, tightening his arms around Ilya’s back. “Sleep with me?” 

“Of course, I am not ever leaving your side.” Ilya kisses his cheek. “Let us rest okay?” 

Shane nods again. “Okay.” They lay down on Shane’s old bed and hold each other tightly. 

Tomorrow will bring politics and most likely banishment but they need to rest now, that’s tomorrow’s problem. 

Word spreads quickly, the castle is humming well before dawn. Servants whisper.

Svetlana gives the orders under the guise of being Hayden who did in fact give his full permission for her to do that. He’s decided to rest up, although Hayden would want nothing more than to stand with his prince, he knows Ilya needs to be the one there. They need their moment.

The orders spread quickly.

“All curtains drawn.”

“Seal the eastern gallery.”

“No sunlight in the throne room.”

The staff obey, confused but loyal. By the time the sun rises fully, the throne room is dim. Lit only by chandeliers and wall torches. The stained-glass windows are shrouded in thick velvet drapery.

Shane stands outside the doors, he can hear everything inside. His mother’s measured breathing. His father shifting in his throne. The rustle of court fabric.

“They know,” Shane murmurs.

Ilya stands just behind him, hands clasped loosely at his back, posture controlled but tense. “They may not,” Ilya says quietly.

Shane shakes his head. “They do.” His fingers twitch. “I should have written. I should have explained. I should have—”

“You were dead,” Ilya says softly.

That silences him.

The doors open and the herald announces him.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Shane.”

He steps inside.

Ilya follows, one pace behind.

The throne room is shadowed, but not dark enough to be suspicious. Just unusually heavy with atmosphere.

At the far end sit his parents.

King David sits tall, silver threaded through dark hair, expression stern but not hostile. Beside him, Queen Yuna watches with sharp, intelligent eyes.

Shane’s heart would be racing if it still worked that way.

He bows deeply. “Father. Mother.”

Silence stretches.

King David studies him. “You look… pale,” he says carefully.

Shane flinches internally. “I have had a difficult journey.”

Queen Yuna rises slowly from her throne. “You disappeared,” she says, voice steady but strained. “There were reports you had died.”

Shane’s throat tightens. “I nearly did.”

His father stands now as well. “And this?” King David gestures subtly toward Ilya. “You bring strangers into my throne room?”

Shane turns slightly. “This is Ilya.” He hesitates. “My… partner.”

Queen Yuna’s brows lift slightly but not in disgust, in surprise.

Shane braces himself. “I know what you think,” he rushes. “I know I’ve shamed you. I know the rumors. I know what I am now, and I understand if you—”

“Shane.” His mother’s voice cuts through him.

He stops talking.

She steps closer. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

The air leaves him. “I… what?”

King David looks genuinely confused now. “What rumors?” he asks sharply.

Shane’s mind stutters. “The letter,” he says slowly. “You wrote. About my… condition.”

Queen Yuna exchanges a look with her husband. “We sent no such letter,” she says.

The world tilts, Shane’s gaze flicks between them. “You told me to return immediately,” he insists. “That if I refused, you would consider me dead.”

King David’s face hardens, not at Shane. At something else. “I would never threaten my son with exile,” he says, voice low.

A ripple moves through the court.

Ilya’s posture shifts behind Shane, alert now.

Shane’s stomach drops. “If you did not send it…” he whispers.

The throne room doors open again. Softly. All heads turn.

Rose enters, she is radiant. A long gown of shimmering silver catches the torchlight like frost. Her posture is flawless. Her expression is composed. Rose stops halfway down the aisle. “I did.”

Shane turns slowly.

Rose’s eyes are fixed on him.

“You forged it?” King David demands.

Rose inclines her head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Queen Yuna’s voice is dangerously calm. “Explain.”

“You disappeared,” she continues. “And then something changed. The magic between our houses shifted.” Her voice tightens. “You were mine,” she says quietly. “We were promised.”

Shane swallows. “I never promised you my heart.”

A flicker of hurt flashes across her face, quickly buried. “No,” she agrees. “You didn’t.” Her eyes harden. “But you were meant to give it.”

A murmur moves through the court.

Rose steps closer. “When I learned what you had done,” she says, voice trembling now with anger beneath the composure, “that you had chosen a creature over your kingdom—”

“I chose love,” Shane interrupts.

“You chose selfishness,” she snaps.

Ilya goes still behind Shane.

Rose gestures toward him sharply. “You fell for a vampire. You risked the crown. The alliances. Our people. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Shane’s jaw tightens. “You forged a royal decree.”

“Yes,” she says without hesitation. “To bring you home before the damage spread.”

Queen Yuna’s expression is unreadable. “You manipulated the seal,” she says.

“I protected this kingdom,” Rose replies.

King David steps forward, fury simmering now. “You endangered it.”

Rose finally breaks, her composure fractures. “I loved him!” she cries. “I trained my entire life to stand beside him! And he comes back from the dead holding someone else’s hand!”

The throne room goes very still, Shane feels something twist in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

She laughs. Sharp, wounded. “No, you’re not.” She looks him up and down, she spots the subtle differences and her suspicions are confirmed. 

Realization dawns across the room in slow, creeping horror.

Rose whispers it first. “Wow, you really did change.”

King David’s gaze snaps back to his son. “Shane.”

There it is.

The moment he feared, the truth hanging between them.

Shane lifts his chin. “Yes,” he says. His fangs don’t show and his eyes are brown but everyone can feel it. The air has changed. 

King David’s gaze sharpens with concern and calculation.

“With certainty,” he says quietly, “tell me what you have become.”

Shane doesn’t look away. “A vampire.”

Gasps ripple across the court.

Several servants step back. A guard grips his spear tighter.

Rose inhales sharply, as though vindicated. “I told you,” she says, stepping forward again. “This is exactly why he cannot rule. He is a monster now—”

“Enough.” Queen Yuna’s voice cracks like a whip.

The entire throne room freezes.

She steps down from the dais.

Not toward Rose.

Toward her son.

Her silk skirts whisper against the stone floor as she crosses the distance between them. She stops just in front of Shane.

Close enough to see the faint red flicker deep in his irises, close enough to notice he isn’t breathing.

She lifts her hand slowly.

The court holds its breath.

Shane does too, trying not to smell her blood. 

Her fingers cup his cheek. Cold. He flinches, he expects her to pull away.

She doesn’t, her thumb brushes over his freckles. “My son,” she says softly.

Rose makes a disbelieving sound. “Your Majesty, you cannot possibly—”

Queen Yuna turns her head slowly. The look she gives Rose is lethal. “You forged a royal letter,” she says. “You manipulated the seal of this kingdom. You attempted to divide my family.”

Rose stiffens. “I acted for the good of the crown.”

“You acted for your wounded pride,” Queen Yuna corrects.

Rose’s composure fractures again. “He has damned himself!” she cries. “He is undead. He will outlive you. He will drink blood. What happens when the people find out?”

King David descends the dais now as well, coming to stand at Shane’s other side. “What happens,” he says evenly, “is that we protect our son.”

The room goes silent.

Rose looks between them, horrified. “You would choose him over stability?”

David’s expression hardens. “I will choose my child over politics every time.”

Queen Yuna straightens. “Rose Landry,” she says clearly, voice echoing through the throne room, “for falsifying royal correspondence and sowing discord within the crown, you are hereby stripped of your engagement and banished from court.”

A collective gasp fills the chamber.

Rose pales. “You can’t—”

“You will leave before sunset,” Queen Yuna continues. “If you remain after, you will be escorted out.”

The finality in her tone is absolute.

Rose looks at Shane one last time. There is hurt there and rage. And something broken. Then she turns and walks out, the shimmer of her gown trailing like dying starlight behind her.

The doors slam shut and only family remains.

King David exhales slowly. Then he looks at his son. “You frightened us,” he says gruffly.

Shane’s throat tightens. “I thought you hated me.”

Queen Yuna’s face crumples at that. She steps forward without hesitation and wraps her arms around him. The contact is immediate.

His entire body reacts. The scent of her blood, the pulse in her throat. The heat beneath her skin. His fangs press against his lower lip. For one horrifying second the hunger spikes.

Ilya tenses behind him. Ready.

But Shane closes his eyes and he focuses on something else.

The way his mother used to braid his long hair when he was small.

The way she sat beside his bed during storms.

The way she always defended him in council.

He anchors himself and he hugs her back. Carefully, not too tight.

Queen Yuna exhales shakily into his shoulder. “You are still my boy,” she whispers.

King David steps forward next and pulls both of them into his arms. The embrace is awkward, Shane is colder, more rigid than before but it is real. And he holds on. He holds on and he does not bite. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“For what?” David asks quietly.

“For dying.”

His father huffs a broken laugh. “Next time,” he says, voice rough, “try not to.”

A faint, watery smile touches Shane’s lips.

Behind him, Ilya stands frozen, watching something he never believed possible. Acceptance.

Queen Yuna finally pulls back, cupping Shane’s face again. “We will manage this,” she says firmly. “Quietly. Carefully. But you will not face it alone.”

Shane nods, overwhelmed. He glances back at Ilya. Their eyes meet and they share a smile, full of love. 

The throne room slowly empties at Queen Yuna’s command. Guards reposition. Servants whisper and scatter like disturbed birds. The heavy doors close with a deep echo, leaving only a small circle behind. 

David studies Ilya for a long moment. “Walk with me,” the king says at last.

It isn’t a request, Shane recognizes that voice. It still makes him nervous. 

“It’s alright,” David adds, though his eyes never leave Ilya. “I simply wish to understand the man standing behind my son.”

Ilya inclines his head. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

They move a few paces away, not quite out of earshot, but far enough to speak plainly.

David folds his hands behind his back. “You have walked into my court,” he says evenly, “as a creature most men would fear. My son stands beside you changed forever.” His gaze sharpens. “Was it you?”

Ilya does not pretend not to understand. “Yes.”

David’s jaw tightens. “Svetlana?” he presses.

“No,” Ilya answers quietly. “It was my doing.”

Shane shifts behind them but doesn’t interrupt.

David’s voice lowers. “Did my son ask for this?”

Ilya’s throat moves. “He did not have the chance.”

The king’s eyes flash.

Ilya continues before anger can take root. “He was dead.” The word no parent wants to hear about their children.  “I found him in the clearing. His heart had stopped. There was no breath left in him.” He continues. 

David’s face pales almost imperceptibly.

“I had two choices,” Ilya says, voice steady but strained. “Leave him to the earth… or give him what remained of my heart.”

“And you chose for him.”

“I chose for him to live.”

Silence stretches.

David studies him carefully. “And if he resents you for it one day?”

Ilya doesn’t hesitate. “Then I will bear that.”

The answer is immediate. Honest. David notices. “He will outlive us,” the king says. “He will face hunger. Rage. Politics. Fear from his own people.”

“I will teach him control,” Ilya replies. “He has already shown remarkable restraint. He held his mother moments ago without harm.”

David’s eyes flick toward Shane who stands rigid, clearly listening while pretending not to.

“And if he loses that control?” 

Ilya’s expression hardens protectively. “Then I will stop him.” There is no doubt in his voice.

David absorbs that. “And your intentions?” the king asks finally. “Are you a passing obsession? Or is my son a novelty to you?”

For the first time, something vulnerable flickers across Ilya’s face. “I have been with many people, many women and men,” he says quietly. “But, I have only been in love with one person.” He glances toward Shane now, unable not to. “What I feel for your son is not hunger. Not distraction. Not boredom.”

His voice lowers. “It is… peace.”

Shane’s breath catches.

“I did not intend to love him,” Ilya continues. “But I do. Entirely.”

David studies him long and hard. Then..  “Shane.”

Shane steps forward immediately. “Yes, Father.”

“Is this your will?” David asks. “Not compulsion. Not fear.”

Shane doesn’t hesitate, he walks straight to Ilya’s side and takes his hand. Ilya looks startled, just slightly. Their fingers lace together. “It’s my choice,” Shane says softly but firmly. “Even before I died.”

David searches his son’s face. He sees the red in his eyes, the stillness of his chest. But he also sees the same stubborn resolve that has always been there. “And your control?” David asks.

Shane swallows. “I’m learning.” He sighs, “I won’t hurt them,” he adds quickly. “I won’t hurt our people.”

Ilya squeezes his hand gently. “I will not allow him to stand alone in it,” Ilya says.

Queen Yuna steps closer now, placing a hand lightly on David’s arm. “He looks at him like you look at me,” she murmurs.

David exhales slowly then faces Ilya fully. “If you betray him,” the king says quietly, “death will be mercy compared to what I invent.”

Ilya inclines his head solemnly. “That is fair.”

Then, unexpectedly, David extends his hand. After the smallest pause, Ilya takes it. The handshake is firm.

“For now,” David says, “you are welcome in my castle.”

Shane lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He squeezes Ilya’s free hand tighter. And Ilya, for once, allows himself the smallest, private smile.

They have a family now.

Chapter End Notes

I have made Rose a villain in this story as I thought it might be a good parallel to Sasha, I don't hate her in the show/book but I don't particularly love her either so I don't feel too bad. Just wanted to make it clear I'm not against her usually.

Chapter 13: Betrayed

Chapter Summary

Shane and Hayden had no idea someone was lying in wait.

Chapter Notes

Hiiii It's my birthday woo! Posting a birthday chapter.

The next one is kind of an epilogue but it's worth waiting for <3 Shane and Ilya deserve their happy ending don't you think?

The sun begins to rise over the castle, the warm sunlight spreads through the gardens, the stables and shines into the great hall. Ilya had explained to Shane that sunlight will cause blistering and painful burns on their skin now. But not immediate death, it takes a weight off Shane’s shoulders that he won’t so easily die. Again. The curtains in Shane’s chamber are sealed tight, the servants made sure of that, even sewing them together and adding a back layer. Shane is still a young vampire and he gets very tired as soon as the sun comes up. 

He’s asleep in his old bed, his freckles faint on pale skin. One hand loosely rests over Ilya’s chest.

Ilya doesn’t sleep, he watches Shane sleeping. Shane’s chest doesn’t move, unbreathing. It’s a little nerve wracking looking at him like this. He looks dead again. Ilya brushes his fingers through Shane’s hair and presses a light kiss to his head. He traces Shane’s skin, following the curve of his spine, his soft padded hips, the relaxed muscles under his skin. God he’s beautiful. 

Ilya looks up at the ceiling, wondering how Shane must have felt when he lived here as a human, growing up as a prince. Knowing the weight of his kingdom is on his shoulders. Ilya never knew he could love someone like this, it’s so easy and yet so hard. He can’t ever lose Shane again. 

Ilya freezes. Something has changed in the air, like a whisper. Darkness maybe? His head turns so he’s looking towards the door, it creaks open. Hayden maybe? It’s weird though, Hayden knows to give them space during the day lest Shane eat him. 

A man steps silently through the door, it’s one of Shane’s own soldiers, one that had come to Ilya’s castle. Sergeant Alric. Ilya vaguely remembers Shane talking idly about him one night. He’s the man behind Hayden. Someone trustworthy they said.  

Behind Alric is a woman in dark riding clothes, her eyes are wild, red hair tied into a bun. It’s Rose. What the hell is she doing here? 

The man walks closer to the bed, Rose right behind him. Ilya stays still, trying to figure out what’s happening. The man raises his hands above Shane. Then Ilya sees the wooden stake. 

Ilya moves, fast as lightning. In a blur of motion, he slams into Alric, sending the man crashing into the far wall. The stake clatters across the floor. 

Rose doesn’t hesitate, she has one too. “You see?” she screams, voice cracking. “He doesn't even sleep like a man anymore!”

Ilya stands between her and his lover. “Leave,” he says quietly.

Rose’s eyes burn with something between grief and fury. “He’s dead already!” she shouts. “You killed him!”

Behind Ilya, Shane shifts faintly but does not wake.

“You think this is love?” Rose continues, circling slowly. “He would never have chosen this if you hadn’t tempted him. If you hadn’t filled his head.”

Ilya stills, people keep saying that. Maybe it’s true. He clenches his fists. 

“You couldn’t control him before,” she presses, stepping closer. “You nearly let him attack Hayden. What happens when it’s a servant? A child?”

The images flash in Ilya’s mind. Shane baring his fangs at his best friend, struggling to control his hunger. 

Rose’s voice lowers, crueler now. “You turned him because you couldn’t live without him,” she says. “Not because he wanted it.”

The doubt slips in, a crack in marble.

“He had a kingdom,” she whispers. “A family. A future.”

Ilya’s jaw tightens. “He was dead,” he says again, but this time it sounds less certain.

“You stole his humanity because you were afraid to be alone.”

That lands. Hard.

Ilya’s fingers curl slightly, he glances back at Shane. Peaceful but so still. What if she’s right? What if he damned him for selfishness?

Rose lifts the stake. “I’m saving him,” she says through tears. “You know I am.”

For one horrible second Ilya doesn’t move. He feels himself detach, if this is mercy… If Shane wakes one day and hates him…

Rose lunges.

And Shane’s eyes snap open. Red, bright and aware. Before Rose can bring the stake down, Shane moves with newborn speed. He grabs her wrist, the stake falls and she gasps. 

Shane’s fangs sink into her neck, not gentle nor tender.

Rose struggles for only a moment before her strength drains. Shane holds her upright, drinking until she falls unconscious.

Alric scrambles up behind them, horrified. Ilya recovers instantly and slams him unconscious with the back of his hand. He looks over at Shane, horrified. He’s going to kill her and Ilya can’t stop him. 

But Shane surprises him, he pulls away from Rose carefully, catching her just before she fully collapses and lowers her to the floor. 

Rose’s heart is still beating. Ilya stares at Shane. Shane just showed the most incredible strength, something newborns struggle to do. He took only enough to disarm her. 

“You hesitated,” Shane says softly, his voice filled with concern.

Ilya’s voice is barely there. “I thought… perhaps she was right.”

Shane wipes a line of blood from his mouth. “How many times Ilya? I love you, I chose you long before I died.” He steps closer. “You saved me.”

Ilya’s composure fractures. “You deserved a life,” he whispers.

“I have one,” Shane replies. “It’s just different.” He reaches up and cups Ilya’s face. “You don’t get to decide for me that I’m better off gone.”

Ilya’s eyes close briefly, the raw honesty in Shane’s words finally settles in his chest. Shane loves him. Maybe just as much as Ilya loves him. 

Behind them, Rose lies unconscious. Alric sprawled beside the wall.

Shane exhales slowly. “We’ll deal with betrayal in the evening,” he murmurs. Then, softer.. “You don’t ever let someone kill you because you’re scared you ruined me. Understand?”

Ilya lets out a quiet, shaky breath. “Yes.”

Shane leans forward and presses his forehead to Ilya’s.

The door bursts open before they can even think to move the bodies.

“Shane—?” Hayden stops dead in the doorway.

Shane is standing in the middle of the chamber, blood smeared across his mouth and collar. Rose lies limp at his feet. Alric is crumpled unconscious against the far wall.

And Ilya… Ilya looks wrecked. Blood tears shining in his eyes.

Hayden’s face drains of colour. “No,” he breathes.

His gaze moves from Rose’s throat… to Shane’s red-stained lips. “This is what I warned you about,” he whispers.

Shane takes a step forward. “Hayden, wait—”

Hayden steps back instead. “You lost control,” he says, voice breaking. “I knew this would happen. I knew—” He turns to leave.

There’s a sharp whoosh of air. Svetlana appears out of nowhere and shoves him firmly back into the room. The door slams shut behind them with a heavy thud. “Enough,” she snaps.

Hayden stumbles, catching himself against the wall.

“I will not have you running through the castle shouting half-formed conclusions.”

“I can see him!” Hayden shouts, pointing at Shane. “He’s covered in blood!”

“Yes,” Shane says quietly. “Because she tried to stake me.”

That stops him, Hayden blinks. “What?”

Ilya moves slowly, deliberately, kicking the fallen wooden stake toward Hayden with the tip of his shoe. It slides across the floor.

Hayden stares at it. Then at Alric and Rose.

“She came to kill him,” Ilya says hoarsely. “With help.”

Hayden’s eyes widen as the pieces begin to align. “Alric?” he breathes.

Svetlana folds her arms. “Your loyal soldier has been whispering to a scorned fiancée.”

Hayden looks back at Shane. “Did you—?”

“I stopped her,” Shane says. “I didn’t drain her. She’s alive.”

Hayden crouches beside Rose, pressing shaking fingers to her neck. There’s a pulse. He exhales slowly. His eyes move back to Ilya, to the tears barely contained there. “You thought he’d lost control too,” Hayden says quietly.

Ilya doesn’t deny it and for a moment, no one speaks.

Then Hayden straightens slowly. “The fae,” he says.

Svetlana’s gaze sharpens.

“They warned him about temptation,” Hayden continues, looking between them. “We all assumed that meant you.” He nods at Ilya.

Ilya’s jaw tightens faintly.

“But temptation isn’t the same as danger,” Hayden says, realisation settling over him. “You were the temptation. The choice.” His eyes drop to Alric. “The danger was betrayal.”

The room goes still. Svetlana smiles faintly. “Clever boy.”

Hayden looks at Shane, really looks at him. Shane’s eyes are no longer wild. No hunger burning there. Just hurt.

“You didn’t lose control,” Hayden says.

Shane shakes his head. “No.”

Hayden’s shoulders sag. “I owe you an apology.”

“You owe me several,” Shane mutters softly, though there’s no heat in it.

Hayden almost laughs through his lingering fear.

Svetlana steps forward and nudges Alric with her boot. “What do we do with him?” she asks.

Ilya wipes at his eyes quickly, regaining composure.

“We don’t kill him,” Shane says immediately.

All three look at him.

“He betrayed me,” Shane continues. “But I won’t prove Rose right by becoming what she thinks I am.”

Hayden nods slowly.

Ilya studies Shane in quiet awe. Even now, covered in blood and shaken by doubt. Shane still chooses mercy.

Svetlana sighs dramatically. “Fine. Exile, then. Somewhere unpleasant.”

Hayden looks back at Shane one more time. “It’s still hard to see you as.. You,” he says quietly.

Shane gives a small, tired smile. “I told you. I’ve just… upgraded.”

That earns the faintest huff of laughter.

Ilya steps closer to Shane, when their hands meet, there is no hesitation.

And Hayden doesn’t look away.

The throne room is quiet at night, the sun has set and Ilya and Shane are well rested. Shane fed on Rose which gives him the strength to face his parents again. 

Hayden lingers near the pillars, arms crossed, watchful.

Shane stands before his parents, hands clasped tightly in front of him. “It was Alric,” he says. “He’d been feeding information to Rose for weeks. He told her about my… condition.”

Queen Yuna’s jaw tightens, but her voice remains steady. “And Rose?”

“She tried to stake me while I slept,” Shane answers. “Alric held the other.”

King David exhales slowly through his nose, grief flickering across his face. “We showed her nothing but kindness.”

“She believed she was saving the kingdom,” Ilya says carefully. “Fear makes people righteous.”

David’s eyes flick to him. “And you?” the king asks. “What did you do?”

“I almost let her kill me,” Ilya admits.

Shane turns sharply toward him, but Ilya continues. “She said he was already dead. That I had ruined him.” His voice dips. “For a moment, I believed her.”

Yuna rises from her throne, the movement commands the room. She descends the steps slowly, stopping in front of her son. She cups his face in her hands, studying him. The freckles, the faint unnatural stillness, the control he is clearly forcing.

“You are not ruined,” she says firmly.

Shane swallows.

She turns to Ilya next. Her gaze is sharp, intelligent. “You love him?”

“Yes,” Ilya says without hesitation.

“Then you will protect him. Even from himself.”

“With my life.”

Yuna nods once. She straightens and faces the room. “Exile was mercy,” she says coolly. “And mercy has failed.”

David watches her, knowing that tone. “What do you propose?” he asks.

Yuna’s eyes darken slightly. “We fortify the castle. Not with guards.” She looks toward the tall windows. “With magic.”

Hayden shifts. “Magic strong enough to stop another attempt?”

“Strong enough to stop intent,” Yuna replies. She turns to an attendant near the doorway. “Send for Warlock Eryndor of the Eastern Marsh.”

Hayden stiffens. “The one who sealed the plague villages?”

“The same.”

Shane frowns faintly. “Mother, that kind of spell—”

“—will not harm the innocent,” she interrupts. “Only those who approach this castle with the intention to kill my son.”

Ilya studies her with renewed respect. “That is… precise magic,” he says carefully.

Yuna meets his eyes. “I do not deal in sloppy protections.”

David rests a hand on her shoulder. “It will take a night to prepare.”

“It will take as long as it must,” Yuna replies.

She looks back to Shane. “You will not hide,” she says gently. “You will not shrink. This is your home. If the world wishes to test that, it will find this kingdom prepared.”

Shane’s eyes shine faintly. He nods.

Later that evening, the warlock arrives cloaked in deep green, eyes bright with ancient calculation. He walks the perimeter of the castle walls under moonlight, murmuring incantations that ripple through stone and mortar. Silver sigils flare briefly along the battlements before fading into invisibility.

Ilya feels the magic first, a quiet hum under his skin. The spell settles like a second heartbeat around the castle.

Warlock Eryndor turns to Queen Yuna when he is finished. “It is done,” he says. “No soul who carries the will to kill Prince Shane may cross these grounds. They will falter. They will turn back. Or they will fall.”

Yuna inclines her head. “Good.”

Inside, Shane watches from the window. Ilya steps beside him. “You have a formidable mother,” he murmurs.

Shane huffs softly. “You have no idea.”

Ilya looks out over the protected grounds. “For what it is worth,” he says quietly, “I am grateful.”

Shane glances at him. “For the spell?”

“For the kingdom that did not cast me out.”

Shane threads his fingers through Ilya’s. “They’re my family,” he says simply. “If they accept me… they accept you.”

Outside, the last silver glow fades from the castle walls.

Shane and Ilya once again retreat to Shane’s dark chamber, the sun will be rising in the next few hours and Shane has something he needs to say. 

Heavy curtains smother the sun. Dust floats lazily in thin silver seams of light that dare slip through the edges. The world beyond the walls hums with life, but in here there is only stillness.

Shane sits on the edge of the bed and Ilya stands in front of him. For a long moment, they simply look at each other. Their hands find each other first, their fingers lacing. 

Shane studies him, golden curls slightly mussed, shadows softening his sharpness. Ilya looks tired like he’s carrying something heavy and invisible.

“This isn’t what I imagined,” Ilya says quietly.

Shane tilts his head. “What did you imagine?”

Ilya exhales slowly. “When I turned you… I thought it would be selfish joy.” His thumb brushes over Shane’s knuckles. “I thought I would wake beside you in my castle and teach you everything. We would hunt at night. We would explore.” He sighs and brushes Shane’s freckles gently with one finger. “I want to kiss you until you forget your human fears.” His voice lowers. “I want to make love to you without hesitation. To hold you without worrying who might burst through the door with a stake.”

Shane’s lips twitch faintly. “That does sound nicer.”

Silence stretches again. Then Shane looks down at their joined hands. “There’s something else,” he says.

Ilya’s gaze sharpens instantly. “What is it?”

Shane swallows. “I don’t think I can stay here.”

Ilya stills.

Shane continues before he can interrupt. “Not because of you. Because of me.” His jaw tightens. “When I walked through the halls this morning, I could hear them. Every servant. Every guard. Their heartbeats.” His fingers flex slightly in Ilya’s grip. “I don’t trust myself yet. Not around this many humans. Not around my people.”

Ilya’s expression softens. “You have control,” he says quietly.

“For now,” Shane replies. “But I’m new. And they trust me. They walk close. They smile.” His voice dips. “If I hurt someone…”

“You won’t.”

“But if I did.”

The weight of that hangs heavy between them.

Shane lifts his gaze. “I think I need to go back with you,” he says. “To the forest. To the castle. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere I can learn without risking anyone.”

Ilya blinks. “You would leave your kingdom?” he asks carefully.

“For a few years,” Shane says. “It’s not abandonment. I’ll return when I’m strong enough. When I can stand in the throne room and not hear blood louder than loyalty.” 

Ilya’s heart, dead though it is, feels like it stutters. “You would stay with me,” he says softly.

Shane smiles faintly. “Where else would I go?”

Ilya tries and fails to hide the way relief floods his face. It’s subtle but Shane sees it. “You look pleased,” Shane teases.

“I am devastated,” Ilya says solemnly. “Utterly heartbroken that you would sentence me to your company for years.”

Shane laughs quietly. Ilya steps closer, resting his forehead against Shane’s. “If this is your choice,” he murmurs, “I will make it a sanctuary. Not a hiding place.”

Shane closes his eyes for a moment. “I don’t want to hide,” he says. “I just want to grow into this without hurting anyone.”

Ilya brushes his thumb along Shane’s cheek. “You are already more careful than most vampires twice your age.”

Shane leans into the touch. “Then when I come back,” he says softly, “I’ll be the prince they deserve.”

“And until then,” Ilya replies, “you will be mine.”

“And you will be mine.” Shane opens his eyes again. “We should tell my parents when the sun goes down,” he says. “Together.”

Ilya nods. “Yes. Together.” Their fingers tighten.

Twilight has washed the courtyard in violet and gold, they wait until the sun has faded behind the mountain. The gates are standing open.

Shane stands at the top of the steps with Ilya at his side but this time Hayden is there too, hovering close, jaw tight like he’s trying very hard not to fall apart.

King David and Queen Yuna wait below.

Shane steps forward first. “I won’t be gone forever,” he says gently. “Just long enough to make sure I come back stronger.”

Yuna’s knuckles are white as she grips David’s hand tightly. David meanwhile studies him carefully. “You believe this is the only way?”

Shane nods. “If I stay now, I risk someone. If I leave, I risk only time.”

Yuna’s composure fractures. Tears spill freely as she cups Shane’s face. “I just got you back.”

Shane leans into her hands. “You still have me.”

David pulls him into a tight embrace, and this time Shane holds on just as fiercely. He feels the steady rhythm of his father’s heart. Loud, warm, but he breathes through it. Grounds himself.

“I am proud of you,” David says quietly. “Not because of what you are. Because of what you choose.”

“You sound like a king already.” Yuna presses a kiss to his temple. “Return happy.” She hugs him tightly, closing her eyes to hold back the tears. 

“I will,” Shane whispers.

“And we are so so proud of you.” 

Behind him, Hayden makes a small, broken sound.

Shane turns.

Hayden’s eyes are red, shoulders shaking despite his effort to stand tall. “You’re really leaving,” Hayden says.

“For a little while,” Shane answers softly.

Hayden steps forward and pulls him into a hug that’s far less composed than the royal ones. Shane laughs faintly and hugs him back just as tight. “Don’t die again,” Hayden mutters into his shoulder.

“I’ll try to avoid it.”

They pull apart reluctantly.

Shane smirks slightly. “And while I’m gone… you should talk to Jacqueline.”

Hayden freezes. “What?”

“The maid,” Shane says innocently. “The one who trips over nothing when you walk by.”

Hayden’s ears turn bright red. “That is not—”

“She likes you,” Shane cuts in smoothly. “And you stare at her like she hung the moon.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

Hayden sputters.

Even Yuna smiles faintly. “Perhaps,” she says lightly, “Hayden will have more time for courtly matters.”

David glances at the young lord. “Which brings us to another point.”

Hayden stiffens.

“While Shane is away,” David continues, “the kingdom will require a visible heir.”

Yuna nods. “You are his lord in waiting.”

Hayden blinks rapidly. “You mean—?”

“We ask you to rule in his stead,” Yuna says. “With our guidance.”

Hayden looks immediately to Shane.

Shane grins. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

Hayden swallows. “I— I would be honoured.”

David clasps his shoulder. “Then stand tall.”

Hayden nods, still flushed, still emotional but steadier now.

A few steps away, Svetlana clears her throat delicately. “Well,” she says, “while the forest gains two dramatic romantics, I believe I shall remain.”

Shane arches a brow. “You’re staying?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Someone must ensure this kingdom survives your absence with style.”

David folds his arms. “And why should we trust you?”

Svetlana’s lips curve faintly. “Because I adore your son. And because if I wished you harm, you would not be asking that question.”

Yuna studies her carefully. “You would stay willingly?”

“For a time,” Svetlana says. “You have a vampire heir and a shaken court. I understand both.”

Yuna steps closer. “Then you will sit in council,” she says firmly. “You will learn our laws. Our alliances. Our people.”

David nods. “If you stand beside this family, you will understand what leadership costs.”

Svetlana considers this and then smiles slowly. “You intend to teach me?”

Yuna’s chin lifts. “I intend to teach you how to rule without apology.”

Svetlana laughs softly. “Very well, Your Majesty. Show me how you rule like a woman.”

“And,” Svetlana adds dryly, glancing at Shane and Ilya, “it spares me from listening to echoes of eternal devotion.”

Shane flushes faintly.

Ilya looks entirely unashamed.

The gates begin to open fully, the torches flicker.

David clasps Shane’s forearm one last time. “Return stronger.”

Yuna kisses his cheek. “Just.. Return home.”

Hayden steps forward again, pulling Shane into one final hug. “Write,” he demands.

“Rule well,” Shane counters.

They separate slowly.

Shane turns and Ilya’s hand slides into his. As they step beyond the gates and into the waiting forest, Shane glances back once more.

His mother stands tall, his father steady.

Hayden wiping his eyes but already squaring his shoulders.

Svetlana issuing orders like she owns the place.

Shane smiles. “Behave.” He says to Svetlana.

“No promises.”

Ilya glances at Shane. “Ready?”

“With you?”

Shane looks over his shoulder one more time. “Always.” 

Chapter 14: The end

Chapter Summary

Epilogue, fluffy and sweet and a little silly.

Chapter Notes

Thank you so much you all for reading, I had a fantastic holiday which delayed posting this end chapter but thanks for everything <3

Like I said, there may be updates but it will only be me updating tiny things like some misspellings I only noticed over several re reads.

Please feel free to read my other stories, mostly Yuuri/Victor Magnus/Alec and now Shane/Ilya. I love my bisexual boys.

Moonlight is spilling like silver silk over the castle, lanterns are floating in the air, illuminating the garden full of night blooming flowers. Fairies dance around the pillars of the castle, bringing magic vines around in a perfect circle. Velvet banners cascade from the high rafters. Svetlana is adjusting one of them for the fifth time.

“No,” she mutters, stepping back. “Crooked by half an inch. Unacceptable.”

A centaur footman sighs quietly as she directs him to shift the tapestry again.

“Perfect,” she breathes.

Behind her, musicians tune strings that shimmer with faint enchantments. Fae lights flicker at the edges of the hall. Even the old stone seems alive tonight.

It is a vampire wedding.

And it will be flawless.

In a side chamber lit only by candlelight, Ilya stands very still while King David fumbles delicately with a stubborn cufflink. “I never expected to help a vampire dress for his wedding to my son.” David mutters. “Yet it feels right.” 

Ilya gives a faint, nervous smile. “I am… honoured.”

David finally secures the cufflink and steps back to examine him.

Ilya is radiant in black and silver, his tailored coat sharp against his frame. Cross resting against his chest. Golden curls carefully styled.

“You understand,” David says quietly, voice lowering, “that if you hurt him—”

“I will not,” Ilya answers immediately.

David studies him. “I know,” he says after a moment. His hand rests briefly on Ilya’s shoulder. “Welcome to the family.”

Ilya swallows, something almost human flickering across his face.

Down another corridor, Queen Yuna adjusts the collar of Shane’s formal coat with trembling fingers.

Shane is luminous.

Dark tailored attire softened by embroidered silver vines along the sleeves. His mother smiles as he looks at his freckles, a quiet reminder of the boy he was. Yuna brushes her thumb over his cheek. “You look happy,” she whispers.

“I am,” Shane says softly. 

She blinks back tears. “You were born for a crown,” she says. “But I am glad you also chose love.”

Shane smiles gently. “I chose both.”

Music begins to swell in the great hall.

Yuna offers her arm. “Ready?”

Shane inhales unnecessarily, a habit he hasn’t quite lost. “Ready.”

The hall falls silent as the doors open.

Ilya stands at the far end beneath an arch woven with moonflowers and silver thread. Candles flicker around him like a constellation. Then, there he is.. Shane. It’s like he’s looking at starlight, so beautiful. Shane looks ethereal, he’s fallen into his vampire body and become his true self. Simultaneously, Ilya wants to cry loud and unforgiving tears and wrap his arms around Shane and fuck him under the stars. 

Shane walks beside his mother down the aisle, he’s confident as he walks, no sign of hunger or fear. Guests fill the hall, humans and immortals alike. Centaurs. Fae. Guards. Courtiers.

Hayden stands proudly near the front, dressed in royal blues, dabbing at his eyes despite his attempt at composure. Jackie stands beside him, squeezing his hand.

Svetlana stands off to the side, arms crossed, pretending not to be emotional.

Yuna reaches the front and places Shane’s hand into Ilya’s. For a moment, she doesn’t let go. “Take care of him,” she murmurs.

“With my eternity,” Ilya replies.

She nods, satisfied and steps back.

Shane and Ilya face one another fully.

“You look… Nice..” Shane murmurs softly.

“You are ravishing,” Ilya replies, eyes shining.

The officiant is an ancient forest spirit bound in pale light, they speak words of union, of chosen eternity, of love that crossed death and returned brighter.

But Ilya barely listens to a word, his eyes are locked on Shane. 

“I choose you,” Shane says when it is his turn. “In every lifetime.”

Ilya’s voice trembles when he answers. “I promise to love you with all that I have and all that I am.”

Shane’s eyes brim with blood tears, almost exactly how he looked when he cried as a human. Ilya can barely hold it together long enough for the officiant to pronounce them married. He reaches over and brings Shane closer with a hand on each cheek, he kisses Shane with all the love in his heart. Shane’s hands, desperate and slightly unsure, grab at Ilya’s shirt. He can feel something brewing and Ilya pulls back, giving Shane a wink. Later. He says with his eyes. 

The hall erupts into cheers. Glasses raised. Magic flares gently along the ceiling in bursts of silver and gold.

Svetlana wipes her eyes quickly and snaps at a servant. “More wine. Immediately.”

David laughs heartily, Yuna presses a hand to her chest, overwhelmed.

Hayden whoops loudly.

And in the center of it all, beneath floating lanterns and woven starlight, Shane pulls Ilya closer.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, husband.” Ilya replies with the softest, warmest smiles on his face. Their hands join and Ilya couldn’t be happier than he is in this moment. 

The years pass and love only grows. Their forest sanctuary becomes a legend, a place where a newborn vampire prince learned restraint and became a creature stronger, sharper and steadier. 

Finally it’s time. The kingdom has been prepared for weeks, banners hang from every tower, silver and deep royal blue. The castle bells ring as the gates open. It’s dusk when they arrive. 

Shane doesn’t hesitate this time, he’s ready. A coronation is upon them. 

The coronation will take place in the grand throne hall, rebuilt and expanded during Shane’s absence. The protective spell still hums in the stone, refined by time. Candles burn low and steady. Every curtain is drawn, just in case. 

The court fills the chamber.

Hayden stands near the dais, older now, surer of himself. A signet ring gleams on his hand. Jackie stands beside him, no longer a shy maid but Lady Jacqueline, advisor and partner both. At their side are two children. A girl and a boy.

The girl stands straight-backed and observant, already watching the room like it belongs to her.

Shane’s gaze lingers on her warmly.

Ilya stands at his side, dressed in black and silver once more. Ageless, composed. But his fingers remain intertwined with Shane’s until the last possible second.

King David and Queen Yuna stand before the gathered court. Time has touched them.

David lifts the ancient crown. “For thirty years,” he announces, “our son will rule this kingdom.”

A murmur moves through the hall. Shane steps forward.

“And after that,” he says clearly, voice steady and resonant, “the crown will pass to Hayden’s eldest child.”

All eyes shift to the little girl but she does not flinch.

Shane smiles faintly. “As a vampire, I cannot have heirs of my own,” he continues. “But I do not measure legacy by blood alone.”

He looks at Hayden. “You have stood beside me through storms, betrayal, death, and rebirth.”

Hayden’s throat tightens.

“Your children are my family.”

The girl steps forward without prompting. “I will rule well,” she says solemnly.

A ripple of surprised amusement moves through the hall.

Shane crouches slightly to meet her eyes. “I have no doubt.”

David places the crown upon Shane’s head. The weight settles, heavy with the promise of looking after his kingdom. Stepping in and becoming the king he always knew he would be. 

The court kneels.

“Long live King Shane.” They speak in unison.

The words echo against stone and history.

Shane rises fully.

Beside him, Ilya bows his head. Not as a subject of course, but as consort.

Shane glances at him. “For thirty years,” he murmurs softly.

“Thirty mortal years,” Ilya replies. “A blink.”

Shane smiles faintly. “Then we pass it on.”

“And return to the forest?” Ilya teases lightly.

“Or somewhere else, far away, ” Shane counters. He doesn’t need to tell Ilya why, he knows. Shane’s parents will pass before his time on the throne comes to an end. Shane’s going to need some distance after that. 

Below them, Hayden beams. Yuna wipes her eyes. David stands tall and unshaken. The little future queen watches everything.

And as the court rises and the music begins, Shane stands crowned. Not as a boy who feared his hunger, not as a prince who fled, but as a king who chose love, restraint, and succession over immortality’s selfish pull.

The forest made him strong, love made him steady.

And now, under banners and candlelight, he rules.

The sun rises softly over the kingdom, illuminating the towers of the castle.

Inside, the halls are quiet, but not empty. Shane moves through them like he used to as a human. But now he’s confident, calm, and immortal. The weight of the crown sits comfortably now, he wears it with understanding, wisdom, and restraint. He is the first supernatural king the realm has ever known, a ruler of both humans and magical creatures alike. Shane does not take that lightly.

Beside him, Ilya walks with ease, hand in hand with Shane. He’s always present, always devoted. Despite feeling a little displaced. He has seen the storms Shane survived, the betrayals, the hunger, the fear and yet he stands unwavering. 

The kingdom has learned to accept him too, the vampire consort of their king. Together, they are a quiet, fierce force, unstoppable in their unity.

Svetlana meanwhile moves through the night halls of her own making, gathering a clan of vampires around her. She laughs and teases, teaches control, and watches new immortals learn restraint, carefully shaping a future where vampire strength is balanced with wisdom. 

Her place is in a nearby kingdom, it had been abandoned, pillaged like Shane’s but they weren’t so lucky to survive. She brings the light back. Despite living in the dark. 

Sometimes she comes back to Shane’s kingdom, watching her friends in the courtyard during the night being forever in love. She smiles, satisfied that Shane and Ilya are safe now and thriving. Ilya especially. 

Yuna and David have retired from the public eye. They spend mornings in the gardens, evenings in the private solar, watching the next generation of rulers grow into their responsibilities. Their hearts are light; their son is strong, wise, and immortal yet still kind. They know Shane will live forever and one day they’ll be gone so they give as much love and advice as they can in the little time they have. In comparison to eternity anyway. 

Hayden has returned to the familiar rhythm of being lord in waiting. He carries responsibility with grace, occasionally teasing Shane about the royal antics he gets into. His daughter flits through the halls freely, laughing, sitting on Shane’s lap, or leaning against Ilya’s shoulder. 

She is fearless around them, trusting that the vampires, her beloved uncles, will never harm her. Shane and Ilya are careful and she knows it. Hayden has relaxed over the years, watching over Shane as he proves again and again that he’s in control and that he still holds so much love for his kingdom and his family. 

Peace settles over the kingdom like a warm cloak. Shane is safe, finally. Mostly. There are still nights where his hunger flares, where the past whispers in shadows, but he has control. He has love. He has family. He has eternity with Ilya and their shared home.

And sometimes, when the moon is high and the wind stirs the banners just so, Shane leans into Ilya, brushing a hand across golden curls. “Mostly safe,” he whispers with a grin.

“I’ll keep you entirely safe,” Ilya replies, voice soft, certain, eternal.

And in that quiet moment, under a sky full of stars and magic, the kingdom rests. Their king rules. Their vampire husband stands steadfast. Their friends and allies thrive.

This story ends not with chaos, but with a kingdom balanced between human and supernatural, and a love that has weathered storms, monsters, and time itself. 

A love that will endure for centuries.