Alaric remained still, wide awake but peaceful. Salviana pressed tighter into his chest, her body rising and falling gently with sleep.
Lucius was a silent shadow, eyes fixed on the tree line, listening to the chirp of insects and rustle of wind.
No danger came.
No hunters.
No screams.
Just moonlight. Just breath. Just one quiet night before the storm—
"I can't believe you lot forgot about me!"
The voice shattered the silence like a dagger through silk.
Alaric's hand went to his sword. Lucius spun around.
And there—standing at the edge of the clearing, arms folded, a pout on his annoyingly handsome face—stood Sebastian.
"…Oh shit," Lucius muttered.
Alaric blinked slowly. "Sebastian."
Sebastian stepped closer, a wild grin forming as he dropped onto a rock beside the fire with zero shame. "So much for being your captive, huh? Honestly, I expected better from the great Third Prince and his vampire attack dog."
