Chapter 19: Younger Brother II

The living room of the manor was quiet in the way only vampire residences ever managed. Heavy curtains blocked the last traces of evening light. A single fireplace burned low, casting long shadows across dark wood and leather. Marcel sat alone in one of the high-backed chairs, a crystal glass of deep red wine resting loosely in his fingers. He had not touched it in several minutes.

The claim ring on Asher’s hand still occupied most of his thoughts. The boy was upstairs, finally asleep, the scent of him still lingering faintly on Marcel’s skin. That fact alone should have been enough to settle the restless edge under Marcel’s ribs. It was not.

Soft footsteps approached from the eastern corridor, momentarily pulling Marcel away from his thoughts.

Adrian entered without knocking, as he always did. He paused just inside the doorway, taking in the scene—his older brother alone with a glass of wine and an expression that suggested the wine was not for pleasure.

"Brooding already?" Adrian asked lightly. "You only just returned."

Marcel did not look up. "If you came to waste my time, leave."

Adrian ignored the dismissal. He crossed the room, poured himself a matching glass from the open bottle on the sideboard, and dropped into the chair opposite Marcel with the easy arrogance of someone who had never been truly afraid of his elder brother.

For a moment neither spoke. The fire cracked softly, and Adrian took a sip of his wine. Then he tilted his head to get a better look at his brother.

"What exactly is he?"

Marcel’s eyes lifted at last. "Human."

Adrian laughed, short and genuine. "Human. As if that explains anything." He took a sip of wine, still smiling. "You like him, don’t you?"

Marcel’s expression did not change, but Adrian got his answer from his brother’s response which was short and direct.

"Shut up."

"I’m serious." Adrian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You drove across kingdoms alone in the middle of the night for him. You brought him into your private suite, and you look at him the way you used to look at—"

"Do not."

The two words were quiet and final, and something had changed in Marcel’s demeanor.

Adrian raised both hands in mock surrender, though the amusement in his eyes only sharpened. "Fine. I won’t say the name. But we both remember how that ended. You nearly started a war over a human who lasted less than three decades. And now here you are again, only this time the human is wearing a royal claim ring."

Marcel’s fingers tightened fractionally around his glass.

Adrian continued, voice still light but no longer playful. "That ring means he belongs to the human palace. You took him without the owner of the ring removing it. In their eyes, you have stolen property. Do you understand the risk you’re taking?"

"I am aware of the political implications."

"Are you?" Adrian set his glass down with a soft click. "Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re willing to endanger the alliance we’ve spent decades building with the human kingdoms... for a few years of pleasure."

Marcel’s gaze was cold enough to freeze blood. "A hundred years is nothing to us. I already know the argument."

"Then why are you acting like this one is different?"

"Because he is."

Adrian studied him for a long moment. "Because he can see visions? We have vampires who can do the same. Some of them better. He was simply the one you stumbled across first. Luck, nothing more."

Marcel set his own glass aside, untouched. "Is there a point to this conversation, or are you simply enjoying the sound of your own voice?"

Adrian’s smile faded. The restless, sharper edge that always lived beneath his charm rose to the surface.

"My point is that this is not rational. Relationships like these with humans never end cleanly. They age, they die, then they drag the rest of us into their short, messy lives and leave wreckage behind. You are a Vampire Lord, Marcel. The decisions you make affect every vampire under our banner. Risking that for one human is reckless."

He leaned back, eyes never leaving Marcel’s face.

"Get over him before this gets out of hand. If you cannot, or will not... then I will be forced to remove the problem myself."

The silence that followed was absolute.

Marcel did not move. He did not raise his voice. When he finally spoke, the words were soft enough that a human might have missed them.

"If you touch him, Adrian, I will kill you."

Adrian held his stare without flinching. "I know. That’s what worries me."

He stood, retrieved his glass, and drained the rest of the wine in one swallow. Then he set the empty glass on the sideboard with deliberate care.

"I’m not your enemy," he said quietly. "I’m the only one in this family still willing to tell you when you’re about to destroy something that cannot be rebuilt. Think carefully about what you’re willing to lose for a human who will be dust in the blink of an eye."

Marcel remained seated, eyes fixed on the fire.

Adrian paused at the doorway.

"I’ll be in the eastern wing. Try not to start a war before morning."

He left without waiting for a reply.

The living room fell silent again. Marcel reached for the glass he had abandoned, but did not drink. His thoughts returned, unbidden, to the boy sleeping upstairs

Asher was different. Marcel had known it from the first moment the fortune teller’s chaotic, stubborn, ridiculous presence had entered his life. The visions were only part of it. The rest was something he had no name for, and no intention of surrendering.

But Adrian was right, and that fact alone made Marcel angry. He had made a mistske—no, it hadn’t even been a mistake, he had simply been reckless for a human. But things were different now, Asher was different.

He simply decided, with the same cold certainty that had carried him through centuries, that if a choice had to be made between the alliance and the human currently wearing another man’s ring in his bed...

The alliance would not be the thing he chose to keep.