Kael stood in the twilight mist of the Seelie court's outer grove, wind whispering like ancient secrets against his skin. His cloak clung to him, damp with the condensation of enchantments that hung in the air. Beneath it, the subtle swell of his belly was hidden—barely noticeable to most, but to the elders, it was a beacon, a disruption of balance they could not ignore.
Queen Seraphielle's voice rang clear from her silver throne, poised between life and death, beauty and cruelty. "The blood of vampire and fae should never have mingled. You bear a danger none of us understand."
Kael clenched his jaw. "He's mine. He was chosen."
The Queen's eyes narrowed like daggers carved from moonlight. "Then you must choose: surrender the child to the court for containment, or leave these lands and never return. You will be exiled, stripped of all fae protection."
A hush fell. The air grew heavier. Kael heard a soft whisper behind him—Lilianne, his witch guardian, watching with mournful eyes.
"Kael," she murmured. "There's still time. Run."
---
Meanwhile, deep beneath Rome's ancient underground chambers, Elias paced in a blood-drenched sanctum. He had torn through half of the vampire conclave searching for Kael, for answers, for a trace of the crimson mark he now bore across his chest.
"It activated without my will," he murmured, fingers trailing over the sigil still glowing faintly. "Which means…he's alive. Still mine."
A flash of heat surged through him—a violent, erotic memory of Kael pinned beneath him in that distant night of velvet and shadows. His senses pulsed with the echo of Kael's voice, the taste of him, the way their bodies had burned.
He groaned, gripping the edge of the blood-altar, arousal and rage entwined. He would not let them take Kael. Not the Fae, not the witches, not the council.
He would claim him.
---
Kael returned to his sanctuary grove, heart pounding. His hands trembled as he laid them over his belly.
"I won't let them hurt you," he whispered, voice cracking. "Even if I must abandon everything I've ever known."
Night fell.
And with it, a shimmer—Elias's magic slicing through realms. He emerged, cloaked in power and fury, red eyes glowing.
"Kael."
Kael spun around, breath catching.
"You came—"
Elias closed the distance in two strides, gripping Kael's waist and pulling him in with primal hunger. "You called me. Through our bond. Through the child. You summoned me, lover."
Kael's gasp turned to a moan as Elias claimed his mouth, tongue deep and demanding. His body lit with need, the tension of fear dissolving into heat.
Clothes fell away in seconds.
Elias laid Kael upon the mossy floor, worshipping every curve, every sound Kael made. His hands traced reverently over the slight bump. "Our son," he growled, pressing kisses down Kael's thighs. "And I will protect him with blood and fire."
Kael arched as Elias entered him, slow and deep, until they were one again, rhythm and rawness echoing through the grove.
The stars above seemed to pulse brighter with every cry, every climax.
---
Later, spent and tangled, Elias whispered, "Come with me. Leave this court. I'll take you to the Black Citadel. No one will touch you there."
Kael stared into his eyes. "I want that. But I won't run forever. One day, we'll have to fight them."
Elias's smile was pure danger. "Then we'll burn the Fae Court to ash, if that's what it takes."
The night hummed with magic, and war drums began to stir in distant realms.