~LUCIAN'S POV
Zephyrus and I stood frozen, our faces contorted in livid horror as we took in the gruesome sight before us.
Alaric lay sprawled on the damp soil, his body unnervingly still, the white robe plastered to his chest and abdomen with blood.
His lips were stained with blood, the dark liquid clung to the opening of his mouth, and a thin rivulet ran down his chin, spattering onto the ground.
His face was deathly pale, the skin was strained over his cheekbones giving him a skeletal appearance.
And his eyes... though they flickered open for a brief moment, the grey orbs had darkened to a stormy black, an ominous mark I'd only ever seen once before.
"Dove," he whispered, his lips barely moving. "They... know about her." Blood sprayed as he coughed, warm droplets landing on both of us.
I didn't hesitate before gripping him firmly, and lifting him carefully, in other not to jostle him unnecessarily.
Zephyrus mirrored me, moving as a shadow of my own movements. His worried expression mirrored mine.
"Zephyrus, fetch the royal physician and meet us in brother's chamber." I barked, my voice cutting through the air while staring at Alaric's face, willing him to hold on.
In an instant, Zephyrus' form dissolved into smoke, leaving only the faint scent of burnt iron as he vanished.
I materialized inside Alaric's chamber, the familiar aroma of leather and smoke wrapping around me, grounding me even as my mind raced.
I carefully laid Alaric on the bed, peeling off the blood-soaked robe from his body. I managed to make my movements gentle against his bruised and battered skin.
Just as I reached for a cloth, Zephyrus returned and was accompanied by the physician. Their sudden presence made me shift slightly, giving the physician room while my gaze never left Alaric.
The physician moved swiftly while checking Alaric's vitals, his concentrated face gave nothing away, as his hands continued to move with a precision that belied his age.
Zephyrus' jaw tensed, a muscle flicking as his dark eyes started to flicker to crimson, flames licking at the edges of his vision—the first warning of the storm he struggled to contain.
"Can you tell us what the fuck is going on!" Zephyrus growled, barely keeping his frustration restrained.
I approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Control yourself, brother," I murmured with a calm voice, trying to anchor him.
He exhaled shakily, the edge of his fiery hair dimming as his shoulders sagged slighty, though his eyes never left Alaric.
"My Lords," The physician started with a respectful bow, "High Lord Alaric's core has suffered severe damage, but he channeled his magic through his veins before collapsing." He paused, his eyes focusing on Alaric's before his gaze snapped back to us.
"The High Lord's power has been warding off the forbidden one within him, protecting his core." He paused again, letting the information settle, then continued.
"He will heal, though his body has lost a significant amount of blood. Expect him to remain unconscious for at least a week. Beyond that, there is no further threat."
Relief ran through Zephyrus and I upon hearing the physicians words.
The physician cleared his equipments back into his bag, before handing us a vial containing a white shiny liquid.
"This should be channeled into him every morning, my lords," he said, handing the vial over to me. "Make sure to get it into his body. It will fasten his healing process." With that, he bowed and took his leave.
Zephyrus and I stood still for a while, staring at Alaric's still form. Our hearts felt heavy with the weight of our brother's fate.
Zephyrus exhaled, his chest rising and falling as crimson flames ignited in his hair once again, each strand a living ribbon of fire which coiled and writhe with a vividness seeming to burn through the dim light.
Zephyrus' face morphed into a mask of compassion, before kneeling beside the bed, holding Alaric's pale palm in his.
His hands trembled around Alaric's as though restraining his fury was a physical effort.
"Brother," I warned calmly, "please, do not act rashly."
He turned, his eyes now shifting rapidly from burning flames to black, a silent promise of danger in their depth.
"Those bastards are lucky your eyesight wasn't intact," he spat, voice thick with venom.
He gave one final squeeze to Alaric's hand as he stood up, before giving a small bow of grim respect. He strode toward the door, each step radiating deadly intent.
"Where are you going?" I asked, my voice laced with a mix of concern and warning, hoping he wasn't about to go burn things down.
He turned his head back, locking eyes with me. His two orbs already consumed by those fiery flames. The flames on his hair also burned brightly, like a beacon in the darkness.
"To get the frustration out of me," he simply replied, before he turned and disappeared into the hall, leaving me alone in the silence of the room.
I turned back to Alaric, my hands gentle as I tended to his injuries, discarding the crimson-stained cloth and replacing it with a fresh robe.
My mind raced, piecing together the events—the Shadow Covenant's treachery, Advisor Hael's betrayal, the centuries of secrets now clawing to the surface.
The weight of it pressed on me like the heaviest of stones, and yet, amid the darkness, there was one fragile pulse of relief: Alaric would survive.
I left the room quietly, the soft click of the door echoing behind me, and made my way toward my chambers.
Each step I took led me to the familiar scent of the realm grounding me, yet my thoughts swirled like storm-tossed seas.
I reached my room to find Dove curled on the sofa, wearing one of my shirt that stopped mid-thigh.
Our eyes met, and a flutter of warmth stirred in my chest. She moved closer, her face etched with worry, while searching my eyes for answers.
"Are you okay?" she whispered.
I gave a small nod. "I'm fine."
Her concern lingered, making it impossible to dismiss. "Zephyr... Alaric... are they safe?" she asked softly.
I confirmed with a nod, though my gaze betrayed the heaviness of the truth.
"You must have questions," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "I'll answer them when the time is right. For now, know this, they're both fine."
Silence settled upon us, before a small smile made it to my lips, remembering this morning's absurdity.
Finding her in Alaric's room... in that state... wasn't what Zephyrus and I thought.
Dove's presence had slipped out of Zephyrus' reach last night at the banquet.
Humans were easy to lose track of in Hell. They were fragile, fleeting, insignificant against the weight of stronger beings.
Still, we had made sure she was close enough to register all night, but she managed to slip away without anyone noticing.
When she vanished, we immediately started a search. Knowing her scent was concealed last night didn't help much, because there was no way we could track her.
But, her scent reached us when we made it to the halls of the lower Lords.
I remembered the exact second it happened, her scent was faint and distressed. It wasn't supposed to exist. Not after the precautions we had taken just to conceal her.
I'd turned to Zephyrus immediately, the question already formed on my tongue, 'Did you give her the vial?' He didn't hesitate when he said yes.
We had made our way across the hall, following the faint scent of Dove which was accompanied with something else.
Incubus pheromones.
The horrid smell clung to it, distorting everything beneath, warping instinct and reason alike.
And under that, unmistakable even through the chaos, was our brother.
Alaric.
We followed the trail just far enough to confirm what already aligned with logic, then turned back, when we knew Alaric had taken Dove away.
So Zephyrus and I didn't interfere.
Coming out from my haze, I turned to look at Dove, my eyes tracing her fingers which were fidgeting on the hem of my shirt.
She was nervous.
"Where did you go last night?" I asked, taking a sit on the couch.
The question made her tense, before her shoulders sagged in defeat.
"Sight seeing," she simply replied. The lie coming out practiced. But I was a demon, I could see through her.
I sighed. "Did you try to run away, again?"
I wondered why I had asked. I already knew the answer, but making her confess through her mouth just solidifies it.
She nodded slowly without looking at me.
"How did you end up in the halls of the lower chamber?"
"The demons caught my scent." She paused, "I thought the glowing substance in the vial Zephyr had given me would make me scentless. So… I thought I could leave without traces…" her voice turned into a whisper at the end.
"Dove," I calmly called, "you need to understand you're not in your world anymore. Even if you did escape, there was no way you'd get to the human realm. You need a portal that travels from realms to realms." I explained.
"You should stop trying." I added.
A frown made it to her face as she stalked toward me, her hair cascading down her neck shifting with her motion. A mark that wasn't there before caught my attention, and I instantly stood up.
I tugged her toward me and held both her wrist with one hand while the other flipped her hair to her back.
"Who did this?" I asked, gently grazing the mark with my fingers and I felt her shudder.
She hesitated, her eyes filled with calculations making me wonder if she was being threatened.
"Dove."
"It's V-Valen," she finally whispered, turning her eyes to her feet.
My jaw clenched at the name that was being mentioned. Of course, it's him.
I let go of her wrists, and backed away from her. "Did you see him leave?" I asked.
When most vampires drink from what they aren't supposed to drink from, they use hypnosis to make them forget.
So why? Why didn't he make her forget it?
She nodded, "When he was done, he suddenly froze atop me and turned pale, before vanishing." She explained. "A while later, Alaric arrived."
"He sensed Alaric," I muttered.
"Also," Dove nervously spoke, "He said something about stepping on Zephyr's feet, wanting to know how upset he would get."
The frown on her face deepened, "I didn't like the way they had spoken about him. They were rude and only spoke about how his rage is uncontrollable." She sighed.
I paused my lips together.
Everyone in the realm knew how Zephyrus could get. Yet, they forget he only gets like that with a cause.
"About the bite," I started, "Zephyrus shouldn't know about this. It's for the best." I told her, and a flicker of understanding seemed to pass her face before she nodded.
If Zephyrus knew…
Valen would not survive the night.
Neither would anyone foolish enough to defend him.
And the fragile peace holding this realm together would shatter before Alaric even opened his eyes.
Zephyrus would not care that the realm teetered on the edge of fracture.
He would care that someone touched what was his.
And when he rages, even Hell will pray for mercy.