Chapter 13; the gathering storm

The palace was no longer silent.

It breathed, pulsing with the energy of vampires too old to pretend civility for long. Queen Annabelle stood at the center of it all—dark, regal, untouchable. But even she could feel the storm brewing.

The throne room had grown quieter after Noctis led her away from the altar, his gaze unreadable but possessive. He hadn't touched her again, only watched as she floated behind him like a whisper of moonlight. But now, she sat with her back straight, her crown tilted like it was born to sit on her head, and her eyes scanned the shadows where the other two had not yet emerged.

Until he walked in.

Knight.

The man who had found her by the cathedral fountain. Gentle, kind, soft-spoken. The vampire who offered no threats, only warmth. He entered the chamber with a grace that made the silence lean toward him. His eyes found hers immediately—those beautiful, glowing silver eyes filled with an ache she didn't yet understand.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing slightly, his voice a low hush against the heavy air.

"Knight," she whispered, standing slowly.

Zarek was already there, leaning lazily against a carved column, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing the tattoos that marked his chest—ancient, dangerous runes. His black eyes tracked Knight's every step like a predator watching a rival.

Noctis didn't move. He simply stood beside the throne, like he had no intention of leaving her side. His calm, eternal aura now simmered with something deeper.

Possession.

Knight approached her slowly. His hands behind his back, his body tense with emotion. "You didn't call for me, but I came," he said, softer now. "I felt you. Your power. Your pain."

"I remember you," she replied, stepping closer, just within reach. "You were kind to me."

Zarek's scoff cut through the room like a blade. "Kindness won't save her," he said, pushing off the column and sauntering forward. "She needs strength."

"She needs loyalty," Knight countered, not taking his eyes off her.

"She needs answers," Noctis finally spoke, voice smooth like velvet, but cold as winter. "None of which either of you have given."

The air thickened.

Three men. Three vampires. Three forces orbiting her like planets around a sun—each one radiating heat, hunger, danger.

Annabelle looked between them. Her blood stirred. Her senses, heightened to unbearable clarity, caught everything—the faint hitch in Knight's breath, the twitch in Zarek's jaw, the way Noctis's fingers curled around the edge of the throne, possessive.

They were all… drawn to her. Not just by her beauty, but by something deeper. A call. A bond.

She was their queen—but something inside her told her that she was something *more* to each of them.

Knight stepped closer now. "Let me protect you," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "You're not safe here. You think you are, but you're not. There are older vampires… darker things. They will come for you, Anna."

Zarek growled low in his throat. "You think she can't handle herself? Don't insult her."

"You would let her walk into chaos just to prove she's strong," Knight hissed back. "I won't."

"I already *did,*" Zarek snarled. "And she survived."

Noctis, finally, moved.

With a silent stride, he came to stand beside Annabelle. Not touching. Not speaking. Just *there.*

And that was enough.

"Enough," she said.

The room fell still again.

"I am not a prize to be claimed," she whispered, stepping forward, her voice smooth and full of power. "I am not a child to be protected. And I am *not* yours—any of you."

They lowered their eyes, each for a different reason.

Zarek, because he respected power. Noctis, because he understood. Knight… because he was afraid he might lose her.

Still, when she turned and walked away, none followed. Not immediately.

Until—

"Annabelle," Knight called gently.

She paused at the archway.

"I dream of you," he said, his voice barely audible. "And in every dream, you choose me."

Her heart faltered. Just a beat.

She didn't respond. But her silence wasn't rejection—it was confusion. Her mind and body were still learning, still unraveling the hunger and pull that bound her to all three of them in different ways.

Zarek was obsession. Noctis was danger. Knight… Knight was devotion.

And she didn't know which terrified her ....