(Caspian's POV)
The stench of stale human blood and expensive whiskey clung to me like a second skin, a familiar comfort after weeks spent drowning myself in the human world. It wasn't about the blood, not really. It was about the noise, the chaos, the sheer ordinariness that drowned out the suffocating silence of the coven. But the prophecy, that damned prophecy, had wormed its way under my skin, a constant, irritating itch. And Caspian…Gods, Caspian. So here I was, back in the suffocating embrace of the manor.
I slipped through the shadowed corridors, a ghost in my own home. Midnight blue moonlight filtered through the gothic windows, painting the dust motes dancing in the air with an ethereal glow. I wasn't in the mood for Father's disappointed glares, or the coven's hushed whispers. I just needed to shed this human filth and get a few hours of oblivion before the storm inevitably broke.
My hand hovered over the cold iron of my door handle, a familiar weight grounding me. I pushed it open, expecting the musty smell of forgotten books and the lingering echo of my own restless energy. What I didn't expect was him.
Caspian.
He was there, amidst a nest of those forbidden texts – human written books, emotional stories and descriptive sex. Books I knew Caspian wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. His pale face, usually radiating a gentle inner light, was drawn and gaunt. Shadows clung to the hollows beneath his eyes, mirroring the darkness I tried so hard to embrace.
And then I saw him. Kael. Oh, this idiot was here too. Standing stiffly beside Caspian, his face a mask of concern, always playing the dutiful protector. I clenched my jaw. Kael's perpetual presence around Caspian was like a dull, persistent ache.
"What in the hell is going on here?" I bit out, my voice rough from disuse and laced with a sharper edge than I intended. The words ripped through the silence, a jagged tear in the carefully constructed tableau.
Caspian's head snapped up, his silver eyes widening in a way that sent a jolt of something primal and possessive through me. He looked…broken.
"Lucien," he breathed, his voice barely a whisper, laced with relief and something else…something that made my dead heart skip a beat.
He tried to stand, to reach for me, but his legs gave way. The room tilted, and he swayed, reaching out blindly. Idiot. He was practically a starving fledgling.
Before I could think, I was across the room, my arm snaking around his waist, pulling him upright. He stumbled against me, burying his face in the cool silk of my tunic. His skin was clammy, radiating a faint heat that spoke of fever.
"Careful, little bird," I murmured, the words a low rumble in my chest, surprised at the tenderness in my voice. "Looks like you've been missing me." It was a taunt, but laced with a truth that made my stomach clench.
He clung to me, his grip surprisingly strong despite his weakened state. The dizziness seemed to recede, the world slowly coming back into focus for him. He looked up at me, his silver eyes searching mine, brimming with an intensity that both thrilled and frightened me. Gods, I've missed those eyes.
Kael watched us, his face a tight mask of… something I didn't care to decipher. Jealousy probably. He opened his mouth to speak, to offer some useless platitude, but I silenced him with a raised hand.
"Leave us, Kael," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. "I need a word with my brother."
Kael hesitated, his gaze flickering between Caspian and me, a silent plea for Caspian to deny me. But Caspian remained silent, his eyes locked on mine, caught in a silent conversation only we could understand. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, Kael turned and left, closing the door behind him with a soft click that echoed in the sudden silence.
We were alone. The air crackled with unspoken words, with years of suppressed desires and unspoken fears. I tilted Caspian's chin up with a gentle finger, forcing him to meet my gaze. He was so fragile, so unlike the strong, stoic figure he presented to the coven.
"What have you been doing to yourself, Caspian?" I asked, my voice soft but laced with genuine concern. "You look like you haven't slept or fed in weeks."
"I couldn't," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I couldn't do anything until you came back. I was waiting… for you."
His words hit me like a physical blow. Waiting? For me? The thought was both intoxicating, unbelievable, and terrifying.
I ran a hand through his hair, the silver strands cool and silky against my skin. He was burning up, practically radiating heat. "Idiot," I muttered, "You're going to fucking kill yourself."
Without another word, I tugged him towards the bed, ignoring his weak protests. "Lie down," I ordered, my voice brooking no argument. He obeyed, collapsing onto the plush velvet mattress with a sigh of exhaustion.
His pallor was ghastly. He was going to die from starvation.
"Why did you let yourself get to this point? You could have dropped the act and just fucking eat." I said, my voice firm, but inside my heart was aching for him.
"I... I can't" He replied, looking away.
"Why not? Are you trying to prove something? To Father? My goodness, Caspian, stop being so stubborn." I snapped, frustrated by his self-destructive behavior.
I knew what I had to do. It was against every ancient law, every ingrained taboo. Vampires didn't feed on vampires. It was considered… unclean. Cannibalistic. But I didn't give a damn about tradition. Not when Caspian is trying to starve himself to death.
I sat beside him on the bed, my presence a looming shadow in the dim light. "Then feed from me," I said, the words a low growl that vibrated in the air between us.
His eyes widened, shock and disbelief warring within their depths. "Lucien, you can't be serious," he whispered, his voice trembling.
"I've never been more serious in my life," I replied, my gaze unwavering. I pulled aside the collar of my tunic, baring my neck to him. "My pale skin is smooth, unmarked. An invitation. So do it, Caspian," I urged, feeling the thrill of transgression course through me. "Before you fade away completely."
He hesitated for a moment longer, his gaze fixed on my exposed throat. Then, with a low moan of surrender, he reached out, his fingers tracing the line of my collarbone, sending shivers down my spine.
His fangs extended, sharp and gleaming in the dim light. He leaned in, his breath warm against my skin. Then, with a swift, decisive movement, he sank his teeth into my neck.
Pain, sharp and intense, flared through me, followed by an unexpected wave of… pleasure. It was a strange, intoxicating sensation, a mingling of pain and pleasure that I had never experienced before.
Caspian drank, his body trembling against mine. I felt his strength returning, the color slowly seeping back into his skin. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment, to the forbidden intimacy of the act.
When he finally pulled away, his lips were stained crimson, his eyes glowing with renewed vitality. He looked… reborn.
I ignored the strange, unsettling sensations that were rioting through my body. Ignoring the fact that whatever just happened between us felt more intimate than I'd care to admit.
Without a word, I gently pushed him back against the pillows, pulling the covers over him. "Rest," I murmured, my voice hoarse. "I'll be back."
He was asleep before I even reached the door.
I left him there, shrouded in the darkness of my room, and stepped back into the chaos of the manor.
The scene that greeted me was… pandemonium. Everyone was rushing through the halls, their faces etched with panic. Father stood in the center of the chaos, his face a mask of barely controlled fury, barking orders that were lost in the din.
"What in the hell is going on?" I demanded, grabbing a passing vampire by the arm.
"The Sanguis Stone," he gasped, his eyes wide with fear. "It's gone. Stolen."
The Sanguis Stone. An ancient artifact, the heart of the coven's power, gone? This doesn't sound good. "Stolen? How?"
"No one knows," he replied, shaking his head. "It was locked in the vault, under the highest security. But it's gone. Vanished without a trace."
This was more than just a theft. This was a declaration of war. Perfect opportunity for father to have his favorite son on a horse, wielding a bloody sword.