Liam POV
Blood still stained the ancient marble like some deranged murder themed art exhibit. Classy, dramatic, and deeply problematic. The scent lingered thick in the air, warm, metallic, spiced with moonfire and prophecy. Goddess born blood.
Not just rare.
Extinct.
My court? Nearly feral.
I stormed through the great hall of obsidian and glass, cloak billowing behind me like the petty bitch I am when pissed off. My boots echoed with every step, each one pulsing with the same simmering rage clawing through my chest. My fangs? Out. My eyes? Fully black. And my patience? Dead.
"Clean this fucking mess up," I snapped at the night servants, who immediately froze mid scrub like I'd caught them jerking off to a shrine of her. "And if any of you so much as think about sniffing her scent again, I will personally yank your teeth out with holy water and a goddamn smile."
They scattered like sinners in a holy storm.
One of the baby vamps, Ayla, bless her naive, twitchy heart, tried to mumble out an apology.
"S-Sire, we didn't.."
I raised a hand.
Shadows snapped across her mouth like a muzzle.
"Shhh." I tilted my head, smiling just a little too wide. "No talking until I've calmed down. And by 'calm,' I mean after I've thrown at least one of you into the hell chasm."
She whimpered.
I spun on my heel, cloak flaring, boots clicking across the blood soaked tile like a threat. My mood? Somewhere between apocalyptic and "don't look me in the eye unless you want to lose one."
I marched straight back toward my private wing.
As I passed the arched entrance, I flicked a hand.
The entire corridor lit up with shimmering silver wards, locking with a satisfying BOOM that shook the glass chandeliers.
"Stay. The fuck. Out."
Inside, it was quiet.
Sanctum.
The firelight danced low against velvet curtains and dark stone. My bedroom smelled like sandalwood, bloodwine, and her.
She was still unconscious...thank the gods. She needed rest. And I needed five minutes without having to mentally sedate every fang happy bastard in the building.
She lay across my bed like a dream half remembered. Pale skin flushed with healing. That wild auburn hair tangled in my black silk pillows like she belonged there. Even bruised and bleeding, she radiated divinity like her body didn't know how to stop.
Goddess.
Mate.
Mine.
I sank into the chair beside the bed with a long, slow exhale. My body was buzzing, magic, rage, fear, some goddamn ache I hadn't felt in centuries.
I watched her chest rise and fall. Listened to the flutter of her pulse through her neck. That pulse? Yeah. That was mine now too.
"Don't worry, goddess," I murmured, voice rougher than I meant it to be. "I've got you now."
I reached forward, brushing a curl from her forehead with a reverence I did not want to admit.
"No one touches you but me."
And if they try?
Well.
They'll learn real fast that Vampire Kings don't share.
Elisha POV
The scent was gone.
Poof. Like a damn tease. One second it was there, thick and divine and hot enough to make my fangs ache, and then… nothing. Just smoke. Empty air. A dream ripped out of my throat.
And all that was left?
Blood.
Her blood.
Soaked into the dirt like the gods themselves were mocking me.
I paced the edge of the crater, steam curling from my nostrils. I was still in half dragon form, claws flexing, wings twitching, green eyes glowing like emerald fire. I'd gone full apex predator, and I was this close to scorching the entire valley for daring to touch her.
Behind me, Kaleb and Arwen panted, bloodied from fighting off the shadowspawn. They looked like death warmed over. I looked like wrath on legs.
"She was here," I growled, voice more dragon than man. "I smelled her. She's mine."
"She was in my arms," Kaleb whispered. "And then… nothing."
Arwen's jaw clenched. "It was shadow magic. That Entity fucker took her. He's toying with us."
I let out a low, guttural snarl that rattled the cracked stone under my boots. "I will burn this fucking world to ash if I have to."
Kaleb stepped forward, hand on my shoulder like he wasn't a twig in my grip. "We all want her back. But rage won't find her."
I didn't punch him. That counts as progress, right?
I exhaled hard, smoke curling around my face as I finally let the last of my dragon form fade. Scales retreated into skin. Wings vanished. But the rage? Oh, that shit stayed.
My castle towered in the distance, obsidian, ancient, and terrifying enough to make demigods cry. I turned toward it and grunted. "Come. You're not leaving until we find her. My home is yours."
As we walked, our smart bands pinged.
Faenet.
I tapped the crystal interface, expecting more bad news. And yeah, that's exactly what we got.
A video. Viral. Exploding through every rebellion channel like wildfire. It showed the ritual. Rhiannan. Her being ripped from us. And then, Nythera herself, snatching her away and flinging her into the mirror realm like some divine mic drop.
I roared. Not metaphorically. Literally. The sky shook.
"She's with the damn Vampire King." My claws flexed. "We can't reach her there."
"But she's alive," Kaleb muttered.
Arwen nodded. "Barely. But yeah. She's alive."
Our bond pulled tight, stretched thin and aching. I could feel her absence like something had been carved out of my chest. But there was no panic anymore. Just pain. Raw, sharp, hollow pain.
We reached the castle gates.
And when I say castle, I mean legend. Towering spires. Lava-heated baths. Obsidian arches taller than most mountains. Enough gold to make a god blush and need a smoke break. This place wasn't built for mortals, it was built to intimidate everything.
Inside, I led them through the Hall of Flames, firelight casting shadows across ancient runes that whispered power.
"We've got archives," I said. "Magical scrolls. Ancient grimoires. If there's a way to contact her in the mirror realm, it's buried in this fortress."
Kaleb pulled out some glowing tech rock from his belt. "Sasha's still compromised. But maybe I can reboot her."
"I'll send my mages to help," I muttered. Grudgingly.
Arwen smirked. "Thanks… Your Scaled Grumpiness."
I blew smoke in his face. "Careful, pirate. I bite."
Later that night, we gathered in the war room, massive, circular, glowing with floating maps and arcane trackers. Magical activity pulsed across the realms like heartbeats.
I sat with my arms crossed, scowling at the map.
"This is insane," I muttered. "Starship crashes. Shadow monsters. Goddamn Moon Goddess shows up. She has six mates now? Six?! That's not fate, that's logistics."
"She's not just a goddess," Kaleb said, eyes serious. "She's the Silver Star. The prophecy incarnate. Peace or ruin. That's her."
I looked between them. "And you're both her mates?"
Arwen shrugged. "Yeah. There's more of us. Maybe six total. No one's sure."
I stared at them for a long moment. Then muttered, "So you're telling me we're building a god tier harem army?"
Kaleb smirked. "Basically."
I leaned back in my chair. "Well, fuck me sideways. I guess I'm in."
Silence fell.
Then I looked up, softening, just for a second. "She smelled like hope. Like moonlight and ash and the end of my waiting. I haven't smelled that in 250 years."
Arwen's voice was steady. "Then help us prepare. She'll come back. We need to be ready."
I nodded. Just once.
"We start at dawn."
And gods help anyone who tries to stop me. Because when she returns?
She's mine.