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The deep crimson of Ares' wineglass caught the light of the torch flames as he sat back on his velvet throne, lazily swirling the thick, dark liquid. To mortal eyes, it might have looked like wine, but the faint metallic scent that lingered in the air gave away its true nature—fresh blood, tapped from one of his most prized reserves.
The Vampire King's gaze was fixed on the liquid, not out of admiration, but because there was nothing else left in the evening to hold his attention. The castle halls of Obsidian Keep were unusually quiet tonight. No court banquets, no duels, no thrill to feed his restless mind. Boredom sat heavy on his shoulders.
"Too quiet," he muttered, his tongue pressing against his fang. "It's starting to feel like death without the pleasure of it."
From the side of the chamber, a soft, amused chuckle sounded. Razi—his second-in-command and one of the youngest vampires to ever rise so high in the court—stepped forward. She had a cascade of ink-black hair, bright, mocking eyes, and a grin sharp enough to cut glass.
"Bored, my king?" she teased, folding her arms. "Or just sulking?"
Ares' red eyes narrowed. "I don't sulk."
"You've been staring into that glass for twenty minutes, swirling it like it might whisper the meaning of life to you," she said, her voice laced with playful venom. "What's got you so broody? Still thinking about the Citadel?"
He gave her a flat, unimpressed look. "And if I am?"
"Mm." She tilted her head. "Let me guess… this isn't about the Citadel. It's about her."
His jaw flexed.
"You didn't even get to say goodbye before you rushed back here like an obedient little king," Razi continued, circling him like a cat. "Queen Hazel—Hades' new bride, the one you couldn't stop looking at."
Ares scoffed, leaning back lazily into his throne as though her words didn't touch him. "You make it sound far more tragic than it is. She's intriguing, sure. Beautiful, yes. But I don't… pine."
Razi smirked knowingly. "If you say so."
His silence lasted only a heartbeat before he drained the last of the blood from his glass. He placed it down with a decisive click and suddenly rose to his feet, his cloak sweeping the floor.
"Prepare my horse."
Razi blinked. "Now?"
"Yes. I'm going back to the Citadel." His tone allowed no room for argument.
Her brows arched in amusement. "Oh? And what reason shall I tell the court for your sudden trip?"
He flashed a sharp grin. "Tell them… the king tires of his own company."
Razi chuckled, bowing slightly. "As you wish, my king. I'll keep the kingdom from falling apart while you chase shadows."
Ares didn't bother answering. He was already walking toward the doors, a spark of restless energy igniting in his steps.
---
Moon Vale Kingdom
Lycan paced the length of his chamber like a caged beast, the moonlight streaming through the tall windows painting silver streaks across his eyes. His wolf, Blaze, had been growling in his mind for hours, restless, impatient.
You're wasting time.
"I'm not," Lycan muttered aloud, raking his fingers through his hair.
She's our mate. And she's there… without us. Blaze's voice in his head was low and insistent. Every moment we're away, someone else could be closer to her.
Lycan clenched his jaw. "She's not ours to claim."
Not yet, Blaze agreed, but she will be. You can't ignore the bond forever.
The wolf had been relentless since they'd returned from the Citadel. Every idle moment, every pause in duty, Blaze was there, whispering, pushing, demanding they go back. Lycan had resisted for days, burying himself in matters of the Moon Vale Kingdom, but the pull was getting unbearable.
"You're worse than the council elders," Lycan muttered, but even he knew it was futile. The truth was, he wanted to see her. He wanted to catch the faint scent of her hair again, to see the way her eyes lit when she spoke.
Then go.
The decision hit him like the snap of a snare. With a muttered curse, Lycan grabbed his coat, strapped his sword to his back, and strode for the stables.
---
The Gates of the Citadel
The night air was sharp and cool, the moon a pale guardian above. The Citadel's towering gates loomed in the distance, black stone rising like fangs against the star-scattered sky.
Two riders approached from opposite sides of the winding road.
Ares reined his horse to a stop just as Lycan did the same. Their eyes met—one pair a deep, amused crimson, the other a sharp, golden amber. Both men's brows furrowed instantly.
"You," Lycan said flatly.
Ares smirked. "Don't sound so pleased to see me, wolf."
"What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same."
They stared at each other for a long, tense beat, the air between them thick with something unspoken.
"Visiting," Ares finally said, his tone dripping with casual arrogance. "Is that a crime?"
Lycan crossed his arms. "Depends on your reason."
"And yours?"
The wolf king hesitated, a flicker of Blaze's growl in the back of his mind urging him to say Hazel. But he didn't.
Before either could press further, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted them.
---
Alyssa emerged from the shadows of the road, her violet cloak swirling around her ankles, her black hair gleaming under the moonlight. She slowed as she reached the two men, her brows drawing together in confusion.
"What in the dark realms are you two doing here?"
Ares opened his mouth, then paused. Lycan did the same.
"I… was just…" Lycan began.
"Passing through," Ares interrupted smoothly, earning himself a sharp glare from the werewolf king.
Alyssa's gaze moved between them, her expression unreadable.
"We—we missed Hades," Ares said suddenly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Lycan snorted under his breath. "Right."
Alyssa tilted her head, an almost imperceptible knowing smile touching her lips. "Missed Hades. Of course."
She stepped past them toward the gate, her cloak brushing the ground.
"And what's your reason for being here?" Ares called after her.
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "Unlike you two, I have a real reason for coming to the Citadel. I must see Hazel."
The namesake hung in the air between them like a trigger neither man wanted to pull.
For a moment, the three of them simply stood there, the torches on the Citadel walls flickering against the dark stone, the tension stretching taut and unspoken.
Ares' smirk had faded, replaced by something sharper. Lycan's jaw was tight, his wolf prowling just beneath the surface. Alyssa, on the other hand, looked almost entertained by the whole thing.
She turned and began walking again, her voice carrying back to them.
"Shall we?"