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“Of course,” she replied with a knowing smile, then turned back toward Martha and Mark.

I left her to it. Without another word, I stepped off the carriage and down the snowy cobblestone path, letting the frost bite into my boots as I moved forward toward warmth, toward Alex, and away from the wreckage of the night.

My hand found the door’s knob, and as I pushed it open, warmth greeted me like an old friend. The air inside kissed my frozen skin, coaxing sensation back into my cheeks and fingertips. A soft prickling followed each thawed nerve, and my shoulders dropped, finally free of the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. For a brief moment, Mark’s absence felt like a gift.

Scanning the room I found Alexander lying sprawled on the floor near the fire, his head resting against Bomani’s flank. He should’ve looked peaceful, and yet… even in sleep, his features were strained. His brows drew tight in slumber, faint lines creasing his forehead. He didn’t simply rest, he endured it. Only the steadiness of his breathing betrayed the illusion of calm. Near the hearth, my father and Kleitos sat in Arianna’s only two chairs, speaking in low voices. When they heard the door creak open, both rose at once, graceful, alert.

My father reached me first. He pulled me into a quiet embrace, his hands sweeping over my arms, inspecting me with the precision of a man used to battle. When he was satisfied, he leaned down, voice barely above a breath. “I’m glad you returned so quickly. Did you find him?”

Kleitos stood beside him, a subtle tilt of his head offered in greeting. “I’m grateful you made it back safe, young one.”

I gave them a soft smile, small but real. “We did find him…” I began but faltered. “But—” The word stuck in my throat. Violence, when fresh, sits heavy in the mouth. My mind could still taste the iron in the air. I hadn’t known there could be so much blood.

“But what?” my father asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

I looked down at my hands. They trembled. I clenched them briefly, grounding myself before answering. “There was a complication. We followed Martha’s lead, she knew his scent best, and it brought us to the Elguto gathering district. That’s where we encountered a man. A brunette. I didn’t get his name.” I paused, glancing briefly at Alexander. “He tried to hurt Martha.”

My father’s expression darkened instantly. A shadow flickered in his eyes, and the stillness of his body turned razor-sharp. Even Kleitos, always composed, showed a brief crack in his mask. At Martha’s name, something akin to fury crossed his features, a flash, but unmistakable.

“We stopped him, of course,” I continued. “But that’s when he turned on me.”

I didn’t even have time to finish before my father’s energy shifted. It rippled around him, barely contained. His voice, low and measured, carried that barely tethered restraint. “What did he do?”

“He asked Arianna if she was with the Crown,” I said. “So he knew I was your daughter. And when I asked him what that mattered, he spat in my face.” The memory returned like a slap. My jaw tightened, heat rising again despite my best effort to remain composed. I had to ground myself in what had already transpired, the carnage, the blood, the unshakable conviction. I had to be ready for their reactions, for the judgment.

What I’d done could be considered morally wrong. But in the grand scheme of protecting Alexander? It was a necessary sin. A few Elguto killed? Nobles wouldn’t bat an eye. This wasn’t a slaughter for pleasure, it was prevention. A message. It felt righteous in a way that left no room for guilt.

“Where is he?” my father asked, his voice a snarl. No softness left in it. The rage laced in his tone made his fangs slip from behind his lips. His fists curled at his sides, trembling with restraint.

“Dead,” I said plainly. The word hung heavy between us.

“That’s the next part I wanted to explain. After he violated me, I hunted him.” I spoke evenly, though my pulse still remembered the chase. “I’ve never known a rage like that. He didn’t just try to harm me. He tried to humiliate me. I couldn’t let it stand.” I shook my head, still tasting that fury. “We tracked him into a nightclub,” I continued. “I was only after him. But when we looked across the room… Mark was there. Sitting with him. Comfortable.” Their expressions shifted. “Martha tackled him before he could flee. And the next thing I knew… I snapped. My powers activated. I decapitated that man. Arianna held the door, no one could leave. She said there were nearly twenty Elguto there. All with the same scent.”

“A massacre,” my father muttered, more to himself than to me.

Kleitos’s eyes narrowed. “How did the man lead you to Mark?”

“It was his scent,” I said slowly, deliberately. “That’s how we found the brunette, before Mark. We believe they were all sired by the same vampire. And Mark…” I paused, letting the weight settle. “Mark shared that same scent.”

Silence thickened. They both turned toward each other, their expressions hardening as understanding began to take root. This wasn’t just a chance encounter. This was a connection.

Something deeper.

Something dangerous.

TAINTED| CHAPTER 28

Tick Tok

Alexander’s POV

Shouting woke me from a dreamless sleep, a feminine deep pitch bellowed through the walls, shaking my base, alongside my father’s familiar frustration. It soaked into the air buzzing me to alertness. My lids fluttered to open, still heavy with slumber.

I hadn’t gotten much at all the night before, knowing Valentina and my mother were out. I knew Val could handle herself; she knew her way around the kingdom better than I did, but the thought of not being there still made me uneasy. She told me the day before that the only thing we had to fear in Eari was our own kind. That thought played over and over in my mind like a river running dry in the summer, relentless and unruly.

Arianna would’ve kept them safe. That much I knew. She was a force, tall, unyielding, and commanding without ever raising a hand. Even though I’d only known her a few days, her presence alone still made me straighten my spine. She carried something with her… an invisible pressure, like armor made of tension. You stepped wrong around her, even a little, and you wouldn’t live to regret it.

That was the only thought that helped me close my eyes last night.