Rhydir's steps echoed in the halls of Velgrave Castle, the sound harsh and hollow against the stone floor. His heart, usually full of fire, was weighed down with an emotion he had never allowed himself to feel: regret. But even more than that, there was a growing anger—an anger that had festered for too long. The time had come. His final decision was made, and there would be no going back.
It had been hours since he had spoken to Seraphine, her words still haunting him. "You don't need them anymore," she had said. "Not if you want to stand by her. If you want Vex, truly want her, then let go of the chains that bind you to this place. To this kingdom. To your bloodline."
Seraphine was right. His loyalty had been a double-edged sword, and the one thing he had never considered was whether it was loyalty to his blood or to a cause that was worth more than the Velgrave throne. But he had always known the truth. He had always known that the throne was not for him. Vex was. She always had been.
And now, he would prove it.
The door to his father's chamber loomed before him like a shadow of impending doom. He hesitated only for a moment before his hand gripped the handle and he pushed the door open.
King Theron Velgrave sat at his desk, his expression unreadable as he perused the latest reports. The moment Rhydir entered, his father looked up, and for a moment, their eyes locked in a silent challenge. The unspoken tension between them crackled like a storm waiting to break.
"Father," Rhydir said, his voice steady, though the words felt heavy in his chest, "we need to talk."
Theron sighed, setting aside the report with a practiced ease that had long become second nature. "I'm afraid we do, son."
"I can't do this anymore." Rhydir's voice was firm, unwavering. "I'm done with this kingdom. With Velgrave. With everything you've asked of me."
Theron's face shifted into one of guarded disbelief. "You're leaving?" he asked, his tone barely above a whisper. "Leaving your birthright? Your bloodline? Rhydir, you are Velgrave's future."
"No," Rhydir replied, the words biting into the air. "Vex is my future. And I've made my choice."
For a moment, there was silence between them, thick with years of unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. Then, slowly, the king stood, his towering presence filling the room.
"You can't possibly think that you'll leave all of this behind without consequences," Theron said, his voice low and almost dangerous. "Vex has done nothing but lead you astray, Rhydir. She has poisoned your mind against the very thing that gives you your power."
Rhydir clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the urge to lash out. "You don't understand. You never have. She's the only thing that matters now. I'm cutting all ties to Velgrave—my birthright, my claim to the throne—it's all meaningless. You're right about one thing. I'm not Velgrave's future. But she is. And she always will be."
Theron's eyes darkened, his voice colder than before. "You think I'll allow this? You think I'll just let you walk away? If you go through with this, Rhydir, don't think there won't be consequences. Your mother—"
"I don't care," Rhydir interrupted, his voice rising. "I don't care about the throne. I don't care about any of it. I'm done pretending. And if you can't accept that, then you and I are finished."
The king's face hardened, and for a moment, Rhydir saw a flicker of something. Pain? Regret? No. It was just fury. Fury at his son's betrayal.
Theron walked around the desk, closing the distance between them. "You'll regret this," he said, each word laden with the weight of years of disappointment. "You'll see that Vex will use you and cast you aside. She's nothing but a predator. Just like her kind."
Rhydir's jaw clenched, his hands shaking with the force of his anger. "You don't know her. You don't even understand her."
"I don't need to understand her to know that she will destroy you," the king sneered. "She'll destroy everything you've built. She's already won."
Rhydir's heart raced in his chest. His father's words rang hollow, empty. And yet… something still gnawed at him. But this was the moment. This was the choice that defined him.
Without another word, Rhydir turned on his heel, his feet carrying him toward the door. "I'm leaving, Father. I'm cutting all ties with Velgrave. You'll have to deal with whatever happens next on your own."
"Then go," Theron spat, voice trembling with rage. "But know this—when you walk out that door, you are no longer my son. You are no longer part of Velgrave."
Rhydir paused, his hand on the doorframe. He didn't look back. "I've already left."
And with that, he walked out.
⸻
The weight of what had just happened settled on him like a shroud, and he didn't know if it was the right decision or not. He didn't care. What mattered now was what came next. And Vex. She was the only thing that mattered.
Rhydir made his way down the winding halls, the grand corridors of Velgrave echoing with the finality of his departure. He didn't even stop to pack. He didn't need anything from here. All he needed was her.
He arrived at the courtyard, the place where they had first met, and found her waiting, standing in the shadows beneath the ancient oak tree that had witnessed the rise and fall of countless kings and queens.
"Vex," he said, his voice raw.
She turned to him, her eyes reflecting the flickering light of the setting sun. The moment their gazes met, he felt a pull deep inside of him, something primal and unyielding.
"You're here," she said softly, her voice like velvet.
And he did. He always did.
"I'm done," he said simply, stopping before her. "With Velgrave. With them."
Her head tilted slightly, a question in her gaze but no words.
"My father chose survival over honor. Chose to kneel to Alaric." His jaw tightened, and a growl slipped into his voice. "He would've handed you over if it meant saving his crown. And my mother—she thinks you've cursed me. Bewitched me. Said I wasn't her son anymore."
"And what did you say?" Vex asked, voice soft and low.
"I told them they could keep the memory of the son they raised. I have no use for it anymore."
A pause.
"Only use for you."
That made her eyes flare a little. Not from shock. From something far more dangerous. And deeply, achingly tender.
She didn't say anything for a moment, just studied him with those fiery eyes, as if weighing his words. Then, with a slow smile, she nodded. "Good."
"Good?" Rhydir asked, his brow furrowing. "Is that all you have to say?"
"I told you, didn't I?" she replied, her voice dripping with that seductive confidence he had come to adore. "You're mine now. All of you. And you always will be."
Rhydir swallowed hard, the truth of her words sinking into him like a searing brand. "I'm yours," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"Good," she repeated, stepping closer, her hand brushing lightly against his arm. "I never doubted you."
Rhydir's breath hitched, and for a moment, he forgot about everything—the kingdom, his father, the bloodline that no longer held him captive. All that mattered was Vex. Her touch. Her presence. Her power.
"I'll do whatever it takes," he said, his voice low, filled with conviction. "I'll make sure Elaria is yours. I'll do it through strategy, through power. You won't have to lift a finger."
Vex raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eyes. "That's the plan, isn't it? But it won't be easy. They'll come for you, Rhydir. For us."
"I don't care," he replied, his voice steady. "We'll burn everything in our way."
A silence followed, but not a cold one. It settled between them like a pact being written in the air.
Then Vex took a step forward, slow and deliberate, her gaze never leaving his. "You keep offering me everything," she murmured. "Kingdoms. Wars. Fire. And I'll take it—because I know you're the only man reckless and clever enough to pull it off. But let me be clear, Rhydir. You don't have to do a single damn thing to earn me."
He blinked, startled. "I don't?"
"No," she said, voice velvet over steel. "You already did."
Her fingers brushed his jaw, lifting his face to hers. "The loyalty you give me, Rhydir, is exactly what you'll get in return. I didn't choose a kingdom. I didn't choose peace. I chose you. You're the crown I want, and until you let go, I won't. Do you understand that?"
He nodded, slowly, lips parting—but she wasn't finished.
"I'll be your queen—but only if you're the king who stands beside me. Not above. Not behind. Beside."
There was no fire in her tone this time. No seduction. Just pure, raw truth.
"If you think I burn from hatred and revenge alone, you're wrong." Her voice dipped, low and intimate. "The fire inside me needs you. Just you. Not your armies, not your bloodline, not your father's approval."
She leaned in until her forehead touched his, a whisper between them. "Wolves mate for life, Rhydir. But the kind of vampire I am? We don't get second chances. We love once. Just once. And that beloved is carved into our bones. The moment I came back to life… it was always you. The you who chose me, who stuck by me, who used his power for me, who fought for me, who thought for me"
His throat tightened.
"So don't let your father's words rot in your head like old fruit," she finished. "Because if he sees your loyalty as weakness, he's a fool. You don't have to prove a damn thing to me. Being here, choosing me when it counted—that's everything."
Rhydir breathed out a quiet laugh, almost broken. "I don't deserve you."
"You don't," Vex agreed, smirking now. "But that's not the point. You're mine anyway."
And just like that, he dropped his head into her shoulder, a soft groan escaping him as the weight of everything broke—and she wrapped her arms around him like a fortress.
He'd burned bridges. Cut ties. Defied the blood he'd been born into.
But she was the blood he'd chosen.
And fire, after all, never feared a little ash.