Chapter Five: Him Again

Thomas Thorn paced back and forth, his boots striking the polished marble floor with a measured rhythm. The candlelight flickered against the dark walls, casting shifting shadows that mirrored the storm within his mind. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his sides as frustration coiled around his chest like an iron vice.

Had he failed as a father?

Never in a million years had he thought his own children would run away from him. Did they hate him? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. All he ever wanted was to protect them. They didn't understand the world the way he did. They couldn't see what he saw. Myra, especially—she was impulsive, reckless. She didn't understand just how dangerous things truly were.

And yet… she wasn't like the others.

His children were different, but Myra? She was something else entirely.

Thomas dragged a hand through his disheveled hair, the strands coarse beneath his fingertips. He had sent his men to track them down, yet somehow, fully trained vampires couldn't even find three runaway teenagers. The idea was laughable, if it weren't so infuriating.

A scoff broke the silence, slicing through his tense thoughts like a blade.

"Starving yourself won't bring them back, you know."

Thomas turned sharply, his eyes burning as they landed on the man sprawled lazily across the couch, legs crossed at the ankles, arms draped over the back like he owned the place. A smirk played at his lips, a glint of amusement dancing in his violet eyes.

Albert Falcon.

His damn brother-in-law.

Thomas's patience, already stretched thin, snapped like brittle glass.

"Finally realized you couldn't keep her locked up forever?" Albert added, tilting his head. The casual lilt of his voice only deepened Thomas's scowl.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Thomas inhaled sharply through his nose. Of course, it had to be him.

"You know where they are," he said, his voice flat, cold.

Albert's smirk widened, infuriatingly smug. That was all the confirmation Thomas needed.

"Let her go, Thomas," Albert said, voice as smooth as silk. "She needs to see the world."

A low growl rumbled from Thomas's chest, deep and threatening, but he knew—deep down—that Albert was right.

He couldn't keep her caged forever.

"So where are they?"

Albert didn't answer. Of course, he didn't. If it had been anyone else withholding this information, their head would already be rolling across the floor.

Instead, Thomas clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure. "Are they safe?"

Albert leaned back, folding his arms. "Did you really think I'd send my sister's children and mine somewhere dangerous?"

Thomas didn't reply.

Albert's smirk faded slightly. "She's going to find out, you know."

Thomas's expression darkened.

He already knew what Albert meant.

Out of frustration, he turned and punched the wall, the impact sending cracks spiderwebbing across the stone beneath his knuckles.

His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to his wife. If she were here…

A ghost of a smile flickered across his face.

He had promised her he would keep their children safe. And he intended to keep that promise—no matter the cost.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

He moved quickly, half-hoping it was news of his children.

But when he opened it, his expression froze.

"...You?"

---

One Week Later

A week had passed.

Myra barely noticed.

She sat in the gazebo, a book in one hand, a cup of tea in the other. The porcelain was warm against her fingertips, the steam curling up in delicate tendrils that carried the scent of chamomile and honey. A gentle breeze rustled the pages, the scent of fresh grass and blooming roses weaving through the crisp morning air.

For the first time in a long while, she felt… at peace.

"Are you done with the book?"

She looked up.

Nathan and Maddie stood at the entrance, both smiling at her.

She hadn't even heard them approach.

"Almost," she said. "And don't spoil the ending."

Nathan smirked, rubbing his chin. "Ah, but what if I told you that Rolando was—"

Before he could finish, Myra covered her ears.

Nathan laughed.

"Stop it," she muttered.

Maddie chuckled. "Actually, Nathan came here to ask if you wanted to accompany him to an auction today."

Myra hesitated.

She had spent most of the past week cooped up indoors, reading while Lisa and Ezra busied themselves elsewhere. The offer was tempting.

After a pause, she nodded.

"Great!" Maddie clapped her hands. "And feel free to get anything you want. It's on me."

Myra raised a brow.

That's… awfully generous.

She didn't trust it. Maddie was too nice to her. The only genuinely kind vampire she had ever known was her mother.

Still, she decided not to question it.

"I'll go get changed," she said, closing her book.

It didn't take long for her to get ready and join Nathan in the car.

The ride was… awkward.

She had a decent relationship with Nathan, but could it really be called friendship?

They had a lot in common.

She had heard plenty about him at the few parties she had been allowed to attend—how he had once been considered for a suzerain position, how he was different from his older brother. Unlike Damien, Nathan wasn't cocky. He also took more after his mother, sharing her blonde hair and brown eyes.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the car came to a stop.

That was fast.

She glanced out the window.

Instead of an auction house, they had stopped in front of a mansion.

She turned to Nathan.

"We're here to pick up a friend," he explained before stepping out.

Myra followed him toward the mansion's garden.

The moment they entered, she noticed something.

It was nearly identical to the Aphelion estate—same layout, same gazebo. But one thing stood out.

Roses.

Everywhere.

The entire garden was filled with red roses, their scent intoxicating, rich, almost overwhelming.

Obsessed much? she thought.

More surprising was how healthy they were, considering the snow had only melted four days ago.

She reached out, fingers brushing against the soft petals.

Then—

She hissed, pulling back.

A sharp sting. A single bead of blood welled up on her fingertip.

She watched, frozen, as the vibrant red of the rose turned black.

Then, as if touched by death itself, it crumbled to ash.

Her breath caught.

No. No, no, no…

A wave of guilt and dread washed over her.

Her curse.

Her darkness.

The power of destruction. The pain that ran through her very veins.

A tap on her shoulder made her flinch.

She turned—and her expression immediately soured.

What sick joke was this?

"You?!"

They spoke at the same time.

Nathan, standing between them, blinked. "Wait… you two know each other?"

Myra didn't respond.

Her glare burned into the boy before her.

The same dirty blonde hair. The same cocky smirk.

The same idiot who had kissed her.

King Lust smirked. "This is gonna be an interesting ride."

He turned and left, a smug look as he stroded out of the garden. Myra snapped her gaze to Nathan. His eyes a silent please to not do anything to his best friend.

"I will try to keep my fangs to myself"

Nathan sighed.

This was going to be a long ride.