“Sully… Sully. Your hand.” Oliver pointed, alarmed.

  Uncovered.

  Bare.

  That same scorched ruin Oliver hadn’t seen in almost three hundred years. It looked worse than ever. Like coals left too long in the hearth—cracked, dark, seething under the skin.

  How was he even able to move?

  Let alone hold the paper steady?

  "I know," the older vampire whispered.

  He made no move to cover it. Didn’t even try searching for a new glove. He wouldn’t risk disturbing his wife. She needed sleep. She needed rest. Far more than he needed a glove.

  Oliver could barely breathe.

  Mana burn was a slow, agonizing death for anyone, but especially their kind. If you couldn’t stabilize your inner magical network, it could spread to the rest of your body, letting you burn without dying. You could recover, sure, but you’d have to stop casting magic entirely.

  But Sully couldn’t do that.

  Not ever.

  Not unless he wanted Moon Fall 2.0 to happen.

  His brow furrowed. In light of all of this, not only was Sullivan canoodling with the Princess, but he was exposing this secret to her. Not even the other Vampire Lords knew. But now she did.

  Oliver’s gaze flicked to Aleiya, suspicion curling in his gut.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Oliver.” Sullivan broke through his cousin’s thoughts.

  It snapped him to attention. “Y-yeah?”

  “Tell Evie to run contact for me,” he stated, giving the ledger back to Oliver. He’d seen all he needed to.

  “Sure. Who do you need?” Oliver made sure to listen with both ears, not wanting to write anything down. Waste of time. And paper! That shit’s expensive.

  “First, make sure Evie brings the wedding gifts here, and tell her no, she is in fact not allowed to sell any of them.”

  “Heh, right. I’ll let her know,” Oliver nodded.

  Evie would loot her own family’s graves if it meant money’s involved. They’ve already had to stop her once.

  She’ll do it again.

  “Let Vrig know we’re postponing the dam project and to double their efforts on Mana Port 7 for now. Conditions have gotten too dangerous.”

  “Yeah, nobody likes drowned goblins.” Hearty as they were, goblins weren’t built for Tidal Season. Unless they grew gills. Oliver chuckled to himself, “Mergoblins.”

  “Was Venice able to do her part?”

  “Oh, yeah! That’s well underway to boost our PR. The crowd couldn’t get enough of the love story. Not after you were eating her like a snake.” Oliver murmured the last part.

  “Good.”

  And it was. At least something was going Sullivan’s way. If he had to marry his political hostage, he might as well spin it into a myth—feed the mortals a fairytale they could cling to. He could play the role. He always had.

  Yet as he sat there, her weight tucked safely against him, her breath soft against his neck, the line between role and reality felt thinner than he liked.

  He told himself it was all strategy. Another move on the board. Just one more attempt to convince the world that the monsters on the hill were just people—fallible, fragile. Perhaps even worth mourning. Worth celebrating.

  But as her rain soaked lilies brushed against his cheek, a silver braid placed over his shoulder, he couldn’t help but regret the lie. She deserved better. Much better than him.

  “And expedite her pass to visit the Sanctum. Aleiya needs her own clothes if she’s going to be staying here.”

  “So, it’s Aleiya now?” Oliver leaned in closer, grinning. “Not the Princess?”

  “Be sure to remind the Lords about the meeting tonight.”

  Oliver’s grin faltered a fraction, but he only gave a two?finger salute. “Consider them warned. Anything else?”

  “That’ll be all.”

  The younger vampire got up to leave, then, with a finger wag to the sky, remembered to retrieve a little something. He walked to one of the many drawers and pulled it open, revealing a few neatly tucked gloves.

  He grabbed a pair, placed them on Sullivan’s desk, then walked out the door.

  A soft smile tugged at the corner of Sullivan’s lips.

  It was a wonder, really, how his obnoxious cousin was able to stoke his fury one moment, only to quell it in the next.

  It made him grateful for what little kin he had left.