Chapter 18: Younger Brother I

Morning arrived quietly, and Asher woke to the pale light filtering through the heavy curtains and the solid, cool presence of Marcel already awake beside him. The Vampire Lord was propped against the headboard, dark hair slightly disordered, watching him with an unreadable expression..

Asher shifted and immediately felt the pleasant, deep ache in his body. He was sore in places he had almost forgotten could be sore. His mind drifted backward without permission.

This was only the second time he had done this with a man.

The first had been with his former landlord, a quick, transactional, and unpleasant experience. He had traded his body for one month of rent when the alternative was sleeping on the street. It had been clumsy and cold and something he preferred not to remember in detail.

Last night had been nothing like that.

Last night had been intense, consuming, and so good it still made his stomach tighten when he thought about it. Marcel had taken him apart with deliberate care and then put him back together again. Asher had not expected to enjoy being claimed that thoroughly. He certainly had not expected to come that hard while a Vampire Lord drank from his throat.

He pushed the thoughts aside. Now was not the time to get lost in them.

Marcel’s gaze dropped to Asher’s left hand. The claim ring still sat stubbornly on his index finger, dark metal gleaming against his skin.

"It’s still there," Marcel said quietly.

Asher lifted his hand and tried twisting the ring again. It did not budge. "Yeah. I noticed."

Marcel took Asher’s hand in his own. His fingers were cool and precise as he examined the ring more carefully in daylight. He tested the edges, applied pressure, then tried a short, controlled surge of power that made the metal briefly glow with a faint red light. The ring resisted, and Asher felt a sharp warning pulse of heat against his skin and hissed.

Marcel immediately stopped.

"I will not risk damaging your hand," he said. The words were calm, but there was clear frustration beneath them. "The enchantment is more tightly bound than I expected."

Asher flexed his fingers. "So... we go find Aaron and ask nicely? Maybe beg a little?"

Marcel’s eyes cut to him, cold and absolute. "I will not beg that prince for anything."

"It was just a suggestion."

"A poor one." Marcel released his hand. "I have specialists of my own. Once we return, they will examine the ring properly. If the enchantment can be broken without removing your finger, they will find the method."

Asher nodded slowly. The idea of leaving the palace with the ring still on unsettled him, but arguing would change nothing. Marcel had already decided.

They dressed in silence. Asher’s clothes from the previous day had been cleaned and returned; Marcel’s were as immaculate as ever. When they stepped into the corridor, the palace felt different, as though the entire household was holding its breath.

Asher kept expecting Aaron to appear, but the prince did not. Asher found the absence more unsettling than another argument would have been. He glanced back toward the wing that held Aaron’s rooms once as they walked, but the corridor remained empty.

Marcel noticed.

"Do not look for him," he said. "It’s best if you forget about him."

Asher did not answer, he didn’t even know what to say.

King Eric met them briefly in the main courtyard. His expression was carefully neutral, though the tension around his eyes remained. He offered no further protest when Marcel stated they were leaving. A few formal words were exchanged, and then they were allowed to go.

Marcel’s black car waited near the gates. The same sleek, matte vehicle that had carried him here alone now carried both of them away from the palace. Asher settled into the passenger seat and watched the towers shrink in the side mirror until they disappeared entirely.

The drive was long and mostly silent. Marcel kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting near Asher’s on the center console, not quite touching but close enough that Asher could feel the coolness radiating from his skin. Every so often Asher turned the claim ring absently, still half-expecting it to suddenly loosen. It never did.

By the time the vampire capital came into view, the sun was lowering again. They passed through the outer gates without challenge. The guards recognized the car and the man driving it. No one delayed them.

The private manor that served as Marcel’s primary residence stood on elevated ground overlooking a portion of the city. It was larger than Asher had expected and far quieter than the former estate they had been in before. Asher wondered why they hadn’t gone back to the estate, but didn’t ask any questions.

Marcel brought the car to a stop in the covered entrance and stepped out. Asher followed, still turning the ring on his finger.

They had barely crossed the threshold into the main foyer when a new presence made itself known.

A man stood at the base of the wide staircase, waiting. He was slightly shorter than Marcel but carried the same unmistakable stillness of a high-ranking vampire. His hair was a shade lighter, almost dark brown rather than pure black, and his features were sharper, more openly expressive. Where Marcel’s beauty was cold and controlled, this man’s held a restless edge. He wore elegant dark clothing similar to Marcel’s, but the cut was slightly more modern.

His eyes, the same black as Marcel’s, landed on Asher first, then flicked to the claim ring with open interest, before settling on his brother.

"You’re back earlier than expected," the stranger said. His voice was smoother than Marcel’s, almost playful, though the undertone remained serious. "And you brought a guest."

Marcel’s expression did not change, but something faintly irritated crossed it. "Adrian."

The name was spoken like both greeting and warning.

Adrian’s mouth curved. He descended the last few steps and stopped a polite distance away, though his gaze kept returning to Asher with undisguised curiosity.

"It’s rare to see you this riled up, I could almost sense your frustration a thousand miles away" Adrian continued. "Then I felt something else. A human, and one with a royal claim ring, it’s hard not to get curious "

Marcel placed a light hand at the small of Asher’s back, possessive without being dramatic. "Asher. This is Adrian Thorne, my younger brother. He is also a Vampire Lord."

Asher blinked. "There are two of you?"

Adrian’s smile widened a fraction. "Technically there are more, but the rest of the family is less... present. You’re the fortune teller I’ve been hearing about. The one who saved Marcel from that assassination attempt."

"That’s me," Asher said, then added awkwardly. He was a lot more famous than he had imagined.

Adrian’s eyes dropped to the ring again. "I’m guessing the ring is the reason for Marcel’s frustration. Having trouble taking it off?"

"Yes," Marcel answered before Asher could. "We will speak with the specialists tomorrow. For tonight, Asher needs rest."

Adrian tilted his head, still studying Asher with that same open interest. "Of course. I won’t keep you. I simply wanted to greet my brother’s... guest." The pause before the final word was deliberate. "Welcome to the manor, Asher. I look forward to learning how a human managed to make my brother drive across kingdoms alone in the middle of the night."

Marcel’s voice turned cooler. "That is enough, Adrian."

Adrian raised both hands in mild surrender, though the amusement did not leave his eyes. "As you wish. I’ll be in the eastern wing if you need anything."

He gave Asher one last lingering look, then turned and ascended the stairs with the same effortless grace Marcel possessed.

Asher waited until he was out of sight before speaking.

"Your brother seems... intense."

"He is young," Marcel said, as though that explained everything. "And far too interested in matters that do not concern him."

Asher merely chuckled, Adrian seemed like a fun guy, but he did not say that out loud. Marcel would probably decide they wouldn’t stay here if he heard those words, and they’d be forced to drive for another hour or more to somewhere else Asher didn’t know.

Marcel guided Asher toward a different staircase, away from the eastern wing. The corridors of the manor were quieter than the palace, the lighting softer too.

They reached a set of double doors that Marcel opened without ceremony. The rooms beyond were clearly the Vampire Lord’s private suite—spacious, elegant, and unmistakably lived-in. A large bed dominated the far wall. Heavy curtains were already drawn against the fading light.

Marcel closed the doors behind them.

"You will stay here," he said. It was not a question.

Asher looked around the room, then back at Marcel, then he sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the ring on his finger.

Marcel moved to stand in front of him. He did not reach for the ring again. Instead he simply rested two fingers under Asher’s chin and tilted his face upward.

"Tomorrow we begin removing it," he said. "Just rest for now, okay?"

"And if your specialists can’t get it off?" Asher asked.

Marcel’s thumb brushed once across his lower lip.

"Then we will revisit the option of removing the finger," he said, completely serious. "But I would prefer not to."

Asher let out a weak, incredulous laugh. "That’s comforting. Truly."

Marcel’s mouth curved in the faintest echo of the smile from the night before. He leaned down and pressed a brief, cool kiss to Asher’s forehead—almost gentle, almost at odds with everything else he was.

"Sleep," he said. "You are safe here."

Asher wanted to believe him.

He lay back against the pillows that smelled faintly of Marcel and closed his eyes, the claim ring still heavy on his hand. He wondered about Aaron, and what the prince would be up to by now.