Anthony

My eyes lifted from the computer screen as a knock sounded at the door, but before I could respond, two women with raven-black hair stepped into the office. With a sigh, I realized I might need a new assistant.

"My Prince," said the older of the two, bowing her head, "my name is Andrea de Rosse." 

 I studied them. They were clearly related and wore necklaces bearing symbols that marked them as prominent witches. Extending a hand, I invited them both to sit. Only the elder took a seat across from my desk; the younger remained silent by the door, her watchful gaze fixed on me. 

 "I know who you are, mademoiselle," I admitted, raising a questioning brow. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you here." 

 "And I know who you are, Anthony. Most do, mon cher," she replied with a smile. "I'm here because we need each other." 

 I offered a cold smile, standing to perch on the edge of my desk. I preferred to look down on witches like her. "Why would I need you?" I asked bluntly. 

I had no patience for pleasantries. She shifted, crossing her legs so the slit of her black dress slid seductively up her thigh—a deliberate move. I sighed inwardly. She would be sorely disappointed when she realized she could have strutted in here naked without eliciting so much as an extra heartbeat from me. People could be so predictable, and it irritated me that men were so weak-willed they let their lust guide them entirely. 

 "Because the Magistrate does not allow witches with my kind of expertise," she said, a sly smile playing on her crimson lips. 

 "Dark magic," I noted, nodding approvingly. "Perhaps we can work together after all." 

 "All I ask is that my magic remains legal under your reign, my Prince."

 "And in return?" 

 "My loyalty—and that of my followers." 

 I lowered my gaze, opening a small mahogany cigar box on the desk beside me. "I require some form of collateral for our agreement." 

 "My sister, Camille," she offered eagerly, nodding toward the younger woman by the door. 

 I glanced at her in surprise, raising an eyebrow. "And what use would I have for the girl?" 

 Camille sighed, shifting uncomfortably for the first time since entering the office. "You can work that out without me," Andrea laughed as she rose and extended her hand. Begrudgingly, I took it and pressed a light kiss to the back. "Until next time, Prince Anthony," she called over her shoulder as she disappeared out the door. 

 Irritated and brimming with frustration, I lit the cigar I had been craving. "So, what's the plan?" I muttered without looking at Camille. "Are you here to spy on me?" 

 The younger woman shook her head and took a few steps closer. "My sister is serious. We're tired of hiding." 

 I nodded thoughtfully. "So, tell me, Camille, what powers do you possess, and how can they help us achieve our shared goals?" 

I had to admit, the woman was useful. And her experience in magic gave me a new idea. An idea which led me to my second guest of the day. 

"So, you came after all," I said with a tone of mild surprise, glancing at him. The tall Scandinavian man stood with his arms crossed, studying me intently. 

"I was curious," he replied, his eyes glinting. 

 "Dominic isn't here," I stated dryly, turning toward the mullioned window to gaze down at the empty streets below. 

 "I can see that," he said calmly. 

 "You must be disappointed." 

 "No," he chuckled, "just more intrigued." 

 "Relieved?" I asked with a sharp smile, but he didn't answer. I adjusted my jacket, deciding to play the wounded one—left behind against my will. I was certain Magnus would relate to my situation and find some sympathy in his heart for me. "Let me satisfy your curiosity," I said with a dry laugh. "He chose Belmont in the end." I saw the surprise in Magnus's eyes and knew I had planted the seed. "He got what he's always wanted—his greatest wish. For you to have your life back and for him to finally lead his own family." 

 "And Theodor?" the lion asked skeptically, sinking into one of my red velvet armchairs and adjusting his cuff. 

 "Dominic has always been a natural leader. He's surely wrapped Theodor around his finger by now, don't you think?" 

 Magnus shook his head doubtfully. "Did you really think he would stand by your side when you took Paris?" he asked, amused, peering up at me through the blond locks cascading over his shoulders. 

 "We're married." He shrugged. 

"If I had to guess, I'd say he wants to get far away from here. He's always hated this city, its people, and the memories it holds. If he meant anything to you, you'd never have forced him back here." 

 Annoyed, I realized he had seen through my charade. He knew us both far too well. "He hates everyone here—everyone except you," I muttered, irritated at how jealous I sounded. 

 Magnus sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "We have good memories together. That's it." 

 I rolled my eyes at his sentimentality and handed him a glass of cognac. "I want to offer you the position of Watcher again." 

 "How?" he asked, leaning forward with interest. "I know someone who can restore your powers." 

 "Permanently?" 

 I nodded. "Permanent."

 "And your terms?" he asked, visibly pondering my motives. 

 "The Magistrate must be dismantled," I explained coldly. "This country needs its monarchy back." 

 Magnus sighed, staring into the amber liquid. "You're never satisfied, Anthony. How many more centuries will this go on?" 

 I shook my head, pulling up a chair to sit across from him as an equal. "Imagine a nation ruled by five families—not just vampires this time." I smiled slyly. "I'm talking about representatives from all magical beings." 

 "And everyone gets a piece of land?" 

 I nodded in response. "And Paris becomes the neutral zone where we all meet—like in the old days." 

 "And who will govern Paris?" he asked, his pointed gaze fixed on me. 

 "That task, my friend, I want to entrust to you."

Dominic

The summer sun was far more pleasant in France than the humid, oppressive heat of New Orleans—a rare luxury compared to my homeland. My feet moved slowly toward the spot scribbled on the note in my pocket, and with each step, I tried to calm my racing heart.

It had been weeks since I left Anthony—weeks of growing frustration and emotions I could barely decipher. The worst of it all was the longing. Damn it, how could I miss someone so much after all the lies and harsh words? I knew the answer: because he'd been different then, and it was that Anthony I missed.

Another emotion was uncertainty. What the hell was I supposed to do now? For years, I had planned my life with my prince—a life of luxury without death and blood. But now, here I was again, with rolled-up sleeves, a pistol tucked into my waistband, and bared teeth.

And then there was doubt—doubt that Belmont and Conor truly wanted me back, doubt about whether I even wanted to go with them. Wouldn't it be easier to just leave? Masson would welcome me with open arms, I knew that. But would running away help? 

My feet stopped where the asphalt ended, and the grass began. I felt the magic pulsing at the invisible boundary and hesitated before stepping through. But I knew whose magic it was, and in my heart, I still trusted him. Otherwise, I would never have followed the instructions on the note.

I didn't have to walk far before his broad back loomed ahead of me, thick blonde curls spilling over his shoulders and the red plaid flannel shirt he always wore. My heart instinctively beat harder in my chest. There he was, alive and breathing, waiting. Standing wide-legged with his hands shoved into his jeans pockets, he gazed out over the small lake I had come to. I couldn't help but smile when I saw him—he was the kindest person I'd ever known, and I had truly missed him since the day he chose to leave.

"I heard rumors you were back too," I said when I was only a few steps from him. 

The familiar scent of his cabin—honey and pine needles—hit me instantly. But this time, it was mixed with something else. I sniffed the air again and recognized it immediately. A human scent—a woman's, to be precise.

"And yet, you didn't look for me," he replied, turning around with a teasing smile on his lips.

I shrugged and stuffed my hands into my pockets as well—because who hugged their enemy? "You work for Anthony," I stated, meeting his calm gaze.

"When he asked for my help, you two were still married."

I laughed dryly and shook my head. "Technically, we still are, but don't pretend you're helping him for my sake."

"I'm not, Dom," he sighed, taking a step forward. "I'm helping him because he gave me a chance to set things right again."

I tilted my head and looked at him doubtfully. "It's not your fault, Magnus," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "You can't take responsibility for everything that happened."

"Maybe not, but I can't just sit back and watch everything fall apart again."

I shook my head. "Anthony is no better than the Magistrate."

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, running a hand through his hair to brush some strands out of his face.

"Clocksworth is better," I replied curtly.

He nodded slightly and stepped closer. "I understand why you chose them over him, Dominic. You don't have to explain yourself. Anthony's motives are selfish. Don't think I'm naïve enough not to realize he's doing all this for his own gain."

"But?"

"But the other races won't accept Theodor as a leader. He's known as a torturer, not someone you negotiate with."

I licked my lips. "Behind every act of torture was an order from Anthony."

Magnus nodded. "He was a monster; I know. But I've also seen another side of him. He was different the day he found me." He paused, lifting a hand but hesitating before letting his calloused thumb brush my cheek. "I'm sorry he didn't fight harder to keep you."

"That seems to be my lot in life," I muttered, glaring at him. 

I saw the guilt and sorrow play across his face in response to my words. "I was dying, Dominic."

I bit my lip and lowered my gaze. Damn it, I wasn't going to cry in front of him. Not now. After all the years I had longed for him and everything I had done for that lion-hearted fool, and now he was on Anthony's side! A wave of hopelessness washed over me. What the hell had I done to deserve all this? Over and over, I was betrayed by everyone I had ever loved.

"Are you sure that's the reason? Because you didn't seem fucking sick when Anthony found you," I snapped, tears welling in my eyes.

"I was dying," he said, taking a deep breath before continuing, "and now I'm alive because of you."

"Because of me!" I roared, nearly punching him in the chest, but instead, I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. "Anthony would still be alive in Clocksworth if it weren't for me!"

Magnus sighed heavily, standing still and meeting my anger with his usual calm. "Whose body did you give him?"

"Valec's," I replied flatly, wiping the tears streaming down my cheeks.

We stood in silence for a while, staring at each other. But there was no warmth left for him now. He had the opportunity to choose me—but he didn't. He wouldn't come with me to the castle. He would stay with Anthony for the same damn reason my husband had. His love for the city and his life as a guardian was stronger than his love for me.

"I don't want to fight you, Dominic," he said finally, and his words made me laugh bitterly.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before choosing my ex-husband's side," I muttered, turning on my heel to head home. Back to Belmont, Conor, and Clocksworth—the only ones in the world I felt I could trust right now.