Alaric understood, he knew how it had been the other day with his wife. It was irresistible.
Salviana knelt beside Jean, brushing a lock of hair from her pale face. "How can we save her? Stop bantering," she said, her voice firm but laced with a quiet plea.
Lucius's gaze softened. He nodded once, solemnly, and knelt beside Salviana. "What can I do?" he asked, his tone subdued, the arrogance of a predator replaced by the humility of a man desperate to atone.
He couldn't lose Jean. His pumpkin. He would do anything.
"Blood for blood," Manni replied. "Your blood holds power now. It might be the only thing that can restore her."
"Blood?! That's disgusting," Salviana wailed.
Lucius hesitated, but as he looked down at Jean, the faintest memory of her calling his name echoed in his mind, anchoring him to this moment. "Then let it be done," he said quietly.
Alaric watched him intently, saying nothing, but his eyes hinted at approval. For now, Lucius would face what it meant to be alive once more.
Alaric's sharp voice cut through the tense air. "Okay, cut the crap. She's not a vampire—she doesn't need blood to wake up."
Both Lucius and Salviana frowned, exchanging confused glances.
"What do you mean?" Lucius asked, his tone edged with irritation.
Alaric rolled his eyes, arms crossed, as he leveled a hard stare at Lucius. "That was a test. I needed to see how humane you are."
Lucius's expression darkened, his voice dropping into a hiss. "I'm anything but human, Alaric. What is wrong with you?"
The tension was thick, and yet none of them seemed to notice that Lucius stood before them in nothing but a pair of pants. His chiseled torso—toned abs and a broad chest—gleamed faintly in the low light, his midnight-black hair tousled from his resurrection. It mirrored Alaric's own dark locks, and the uncanny resemblance irked the prince. Lucius moved with a predatory grace that Alaric had thought was unique to himself in Wyfn-Garde.
Lucius dropped into a squat beside Salviana, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Give her to me."
Salviana stiffened, tightening her protective hold around Jean, who lay unconscious on the floor. "No," she said firmly, her gaze defiant.
Lucius chuckled, though his smile was devoid of humor. "Oh, princess, this is cute, but I'd kill myself before I ever harm Jean again. You have my word."
After a tense pause, Salviana sighed and shifted away, reluctantly relinquishing Jean. Lucius wasted no time, sliding behind Jean's head to cradle her.
His entire demeanor softened as he gathered her lifeless form in his arms. "Hey, pumpkin," he whispered tenderly, brushing her damp hair away from her sweaty face with trembling hands.
Jean's body remained cold and unmoving, but Lucius clung to her, rocking her gently as if willing life back into her. His voice cracked with emotion. "She did it," he murmured to no one in particular.
He had told her this was her destiny—foretold her path—but he had never wanted her to lose her life for it. Now, as he held her close, a strange relief settled over him. They were bound together now, tethered by a connection neither could break.
Lucius cupped Jean's pale face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. Her eyes remained tightly shut, but he couldn't resist the urge to bury his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply and smiling despite himself.
"Do you remember everything now?" Alaric asked, his voice drawing Lucius's attention. He had pulled Salviana into his arms, holding her as she trembled slightly, though she seemed unharmed.
Lucius adjusted his grip on Jean so she wouldn't slip. His tone was calm but hollow. "No. I only feel hunger. Let's go to that inn where you feed."
"What about Jean?" Salviana interjected, her voice laced with concern. "She's so cold—what if she slips away while we're gone?"
Alaric turned to her, his brow furrowing. "What about you? I'm not taking my wife to that building."
"I don't think I want to go, either," Salviana admitted hesitantly.
"Manni," Alaric called to the wizard, "can you take them back to the castle?"
Manni looked at him, bewildered. "We came on horses, Your Grace. How is that possible?"
Lucius cut in smoothly. "Take the carriage that brought Jean here."
When Lucius stood, carrying Jean effortlessly in his arms, Salviana couldn't help but glance at him with awe. The ease with which he bore her weight made her wonder just how strong he was.
She instinctively gripped Alaric's arm as they all made their way out of the ruins, the mission to uncover Alaric's father momentarily forgotten.
The carriage they found waiting was in disarray, abandoned and worse for wear. Alaric's gaze narrowed. "What about the coachman?"
"He ran away," Lucius said nonchalantly, still cradling Jean as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Alaric's jaw tightened. "And how exactly were you planning to get her back home?"
Lucius brushed the question aside with an air of indifference. "I would've carried her myself."
"You're insane," Alaric muttered, his tone half-amused, half-irritated.
Lucius gently placed Jean inside the carriage, his movements careful and deliberate. He lingered for a moment, ensuring she was comfortable, then turned to Salviana.
"Get in," Alaric urged his wife.
Though she hesitated, reluctant to leave her husband's side, Salviana nodded and climbed into the carriage. She settled herself and carefully laid Jean's head on her lap, stroking her hair softly.
Manni hitched additional horses that he and Alaric had brought here to the carriage and climbed onto the driver's seat.
Alaric leaned in to kiss Salviana softly, his hand lingering on hers. "Stay safe," he whispered before stepping back and closing the door.
As the carriage rolled away into the night, Alaric stood watching until the shadows swallowed it whole, his mind already racing with plans for what lay ahead.
The tension between Alaric and Lucius remained palpable as they stood outside the ruins, the air heavy with an eerie stillness.
The faint glow of the moon cast sharp shadows across their faces, amplifying their predatory aura.