chapter 11

EZRA

Her scent clings to me.

It follows me out of her office like smoke—warm, heady, and laced with whatever perfume she wears.

I shut the door behind me and exhale slowly, careful not to do it too loud.

If I stay in there one second longer, I’ll forget myself.

And that never happens.

I tip the cup in my hand and down the last bit of the blood-brewed coffee. Thick, dark, and bitter on my tongue. A blend from the Carmine Arabica plantations, the kind of beans only cultivated in blood-fed soil. Vampires have been growing it for centuries. We call it Sanguara.

It's just enough to pass for normal and keep the skin from going pale. It dulls the thirst too.

But it doesn’t drown it.

Especially mine and my brothers’.

And for me, even worse when Thea Carlisle is involved.

I walk down the hallway, trying to think of anything but the flutter in her throat. But I saw it. That little pulse right where her neck meets her shoulder. 

And I couldn't look away.

Not because I was hungry. Not entirely.

But because she looked back.

Eyes sharp. Spine straight. Like she wouldn’t hesitate to slap me across the face even I do the mistake of leaning too much into her personal space. 

And still, I had to lean closer.

Stupid.

My shoes echo down the tiled corridor as I roll the empty cup between my fingers. I should throw it away, but I don’t. The scent still lingers on the rim, keeping me kind of tethered.

I mutter a curse under my breath just as I reach my door.

It swings open before I touch the handle.

Nora steps out, startled. “Sir… I… I was just coming to get you.”

She looks flushed, cheeks pink like she’s been rushing.

I walk past her without slowing, my eyes raking my office to search if anything is moved before I start walking to my seat. “Read me my schedule.”

I don't know what Uncle Dominic and the elders were thinking, making this decision for me.

She straightens immediately and hurries in behind me.

I shrug off my coat and drape it on the arm of the chair as I sink into my seat. 

Nora flips her tablet open. “You have a board call at ten. Then a finance review at one with the EU branch. After that, the charity gala prep meeting at three—”

“Cancel the finance review.”

She stutters. “It’s not—”

“Just cancel it,” I say. “Move it to tomorrow.”

A beat of silence.

“Sir, tomorrow’s already full.”

I look at her then, and she stops arguing.

“Of course,” she mutters, tapping quickly.

I lean back, eyes closing for a second.

Nora's schedule is full too which is why I can't give her part of those documents to sort. 

She'll do it. But she won't be able to complete it today. 

I push myself up, my eyes landing on Nora who's still tapping away on the tablet.

“Inform the media team to send an automatic memo to all employees for the gala.”

She nods and when she's done with typing on the tablet, she turns and walks out of my office to hers, definitely to inform the media team. 

I run my fingers through my hair and shift my chair closer to my table before switching on my desktop.

But the scent still lingers.

My fingers still on the keyboard.

Maybe it's etched in my brain now.

This... this never happens.

Getting distracted? It's just been 10 days.

I haven’t slipped in centuries. Not even when we were hunted in Madrid. Not even when Malik nearly drained that diplomat’s daughter in Seoul and I had to clean up the mess myself.

And yet, here I am—delaying schedules, canceling meetings, distracted by a woman’s scent like a newborn bloodsucker.

Something is off.

I lean back in the chair, my eyes tracing the patterns in the ceiling. The silence in the room isn’t comforting. It’s loud and agitating.

Maybe I should call them. One of my brothers.

Malik would laugh, tell me to bite her and get it over with.

And the other one—God, I don’t even want to imagine what shark-mounted chaos Lucien's orchestrating in Malaysia right now.

I could call Uncle Dominic.

He’d pick up, even if he’s “retired.” That’s what we always do, disappear under the pretense of retirement, letting time pass while the world forgets our faces. When the generation changes and the old names are dust, we return and start again.

But Dominic has earned his sleep. 

And I’m supposed to be the level-headed one now.

The anchor.

So why the hell do I feel like I’m drifting?

My phone buzzes on the desk before I can overthink it further.

I blink, then grab it.

Cassien.

Finally.

He’s the only one who doesn’t live with a constant chip on his shoulder. The oldest after me. Rational. Measured. Calculated.

I swipe to answer and press the phone to my ear.

“Cass.”

His voice comes through, smooth as ever, calm and deep. “Ezra. I was about to check in. You sounded off in the last update.”

“I didn’t send an update,” I mutter.

A pause.

“That’s exactly why I’m calling.”

“Well, nothing outrageous happened. The peace is still there and my face didn't appear in the tabloids for two weeks straight. That's a huge feat.”

I hear the sound of papers shuffling.

“Okay. Is Sanguara still enough?”

Fuck Cassian.

I rub my brow with my fingers before saying hesitantly, “Don't add this to the report.”

“Okay.”

I lean back into my chair, swivelling left and right before starting, “I don’t know what’s happening. There’s this woman.”

“Please don't tell me you found another Aureate.” He says lightly, but there’s a thread of something deeper in his tone.

“Of course not. I can't let what happened with Malik happen to me.”

“So what happened to the woman?”

“Nothing really, just… her scent. The scent of her blood makes me thirsty and I almost slipped.”

“You didn’t slip,” he says. “Because you’re still talking to me. Which means you walked away.”

I sigh.

Cassien waits a beat. “Is she marked?”

“Of course not.”

“Then stay away from her.”

“She’s the M.D and I'm the C.E.O. Uncle Dominic said I should keep her. She's efficient.”

Another pause.

“Ezra.”

His voice is harder now, warning threaded in it.

“You know what happens when one of us starts to fixate. You think it’s lust, or bloodlust, or both… but it’s never just that. And if the bond tries to form—”

“I’ll kill it before it does,” I snap.

Cassien is quiet again.

But we both know the truth.

If it is the bond... killing it is never that simple.