Chapter 25

Returning from the Borderlands was like stepping back into another world. The air in Ebonveil was thicker, the shadows deeper, and every set of eyes in the capital seemed sharper than before. Word traveled fast here—too fast—and I knew it was only a matter of time before our excursion became public knowledge.

Kael’s hand brushed the small of my back as we walked through the gate. It was a protective gesture, not quite intimate, but my body reacted as if it was.

“You’re too quiet,” he murmured.

“Thinking,” I replied.

“Dangerous habit.”

“Coming from you?” I arched a brow.

His lips curved slightly, but before he could answer, the sharp clang of a bell echoed from the upper city. It wasn’t the usual call for the evening market—it was the summons to the Vampire High Court.

Lucien appeared from the side street like he’d been waiting. “Summons for all ranking members,” he said, his tone too casual. “And you’re both expected.”

“I’m not a ranking member,” I pointed out.

Lucien’s smile was pure mischief. “You are when they think you’re important enough to manipulate.”

Kael’s gaze hardened. “They’re not laying a hand on her.”

“Relax,” Lucien drawled. “I’m sure they’ll just want to question her until her ears bleed.”

I sighed. “Lovely. Lead the way.”

The Vampire High Court sat at the very heart of Ebonveil, an obsidian structure so tall it seemed to drink the moonlight. Inside, the air smelled faintly of incense and old stone, the vaulted ceiling painted with scenes of ancient battles—wolves falling beneath vampire steel. Subtle.

The court chamber was circular, its walls lined with high-backed chairs where the elders sat like vultures, their eyes gleaming in the dim light. In the center of the room, a single dais waited.

Kael walked beside me, his expression unreadable. Lucien trailed behind, looking like he belonged here far too well.

We stepped onto the dais, and silence fell.

“Kael Veyrin,” an elder began, his voice as thin and sharp as a blade. “You were seen crossing the Borderlands with this… companion.”

“Her name is Astrid,” Kael said, his voice low but carrying.

A murmur swept the chamber. The elder’s gaze slid to me. “Do you know how dangerous that territory is? Why would you risk such a thing?”

Before I could answer, Kael said, “Because it was necessary.”

The elder’s eyes narrowed. “You speak for her?”

“I protect her,” he corrected.

Lucien’s voice broke in smoothly. “If you must know, she was gathering information. Valuable information. You can thank her later.”

That earned him several sour looks, but it shifted the attention off me for a moment.

The questioning dragged on—where we’d gone, what we’d seen, who might have followed us. I kept my answers as vague as possible. The less they knew about the symbols, the better.

But the moment that chilled me came when another elder, her hair white as bone, leaned forward and asked, “Tell me, Astrid… who do you serve?”

The obvious answer—“myself”—caught in my throat. In this room, neutrality was a dangerous stance. But before I could speak, Kael stepped forward, placing himself between me and their scrutiny.

“She serves no one but herself,” he said firmly. “And she will not be made a pawn in your politics.”

The elder’s lips curved faintly. “You speak as if you have the power to prevent it.”

Kael’s answering smile was pure threat. “Try me.”

When we left the chamber, the tension between him and Lucien was practically sparking.

“You just painted a target on her back,” Lucien said once we were in the hall.

“They already had one on her,” Kael snapped.

“I could have handled it,” I said, but Kael didn’t look at me. His jaw was tight, his strides long.

It wasn’t until we stepped out into the cool night air that he slowed enough for me to catch up.

“You can’t keep throwing yourself in front of me like that,” I said quietly.

“I can and I will,” he replied, his voice low. “Do you have any idea how dangerous they are?”

“I’m starting to,” I admitted.

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the anger there softened. “Then let me protect you.”

The words caught me off guard—not because of what he said, but because of how he said it. Like it wasn’t a duty, but a choice he’d already made a long time ago.

Later that night, I found him in the training yard. The moonlight silvered his hair, and sweat glistened on his skin as he moved through a series of strikes. Watching him fight was like watching a storm—controlled, but barely.

“You’re still angry,” I said, leaning against the railing.

“I’m not angry,” he replied, not stopping. “I’m… focused.”

“That’s a lie,” I said. “Your shoulders get tight when you’re angry.”

He stilled, lowering his sword. “You’ve been watching me that closely?”

Heat rose to my cheeks. “Purely for tactical reasons.”

“Of course,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth.

I stepped down into the yard. “Show me,” I said.

“What?”

“How to fight like that.”

His gaze swept over me, assessing. “You already know how to fight.”

“Not like you.”

After a moment, he handed me a practice blade. “Fine. But when you lose—”

“When?” I arched a brow.

He didn’t answer, just moved in close. Too close. His hand came up to adjust my grip, his chest brushing mine. My pulse jumped.

“You’re distracted,” he murmured.

“Maybe you’re the distraction,” I shot back.

His smile deepened. “Then you’re in more trouble than I thought.”

We traded blows, his movements precise, mine a mix of instinct and stubbornness. I managed to land a strike against his side—not enough to win, but enough to surprise him.

He caught my wrist, pulling me off balance until I stumbled into him. His breath was warm against my ear. “Better,” he said softly.

For a second, the air between us felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. Then he stepped back, releasing me.

“Again,” he said.

By the time I returned to my rooms, my arms ached and my mind was spinning.

Not just from the training… but from the way Kael had looked at me tonight, like he was memorizing the shape of me in the moonlight.

And though I’d never admit it to him, I didn’t sleep much—because part of me was afraid I’d dream of him and not want to wake up.

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