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Lucan uneasily watched the prisoner. He was aware of Aurelion’s gaze upon him, observing his every movement, slowly attempting to untangle the truth of what happened in the Evermist this time. He kept his expression carefully vacant even as the elf with silver hair infiltrated his thoughts.

You mistake me, elf. Death would be a kindness. You will find no such mercy here, not so long as that perfect mouth can still take my cock.

Words always spilled from his mouth around the maiden. Blinking the memory away, he carefully set his hands in his lap. This was their practiced dance: Aurelion fed Lucan’s desire to inflict pain, and in doing so, pried loose the mask until he found the perfect scar to tear open. What would happen if he learned his heir, molded by blood and broken bones, wished to exchange a dagger in the elf’s throat for his cock in that vile mouth?

“Come, Lucan,” Aurelion said.

Lucan ran a hand through his hair as if he could somehow cleanse his mind of this obsession so easily. Following Aurelion’s lead, he descended the dais. It was only when they reached the bottom that he saw the prisoner now kneeling on the ground, head bowed, matted hair soaked with blood and filth hanging over his eyes. The shackles had been removed except for a collar around his neck, the chain held by one of the guards.

The Bloodlord of the Valmere Dynasty moved like an elegant dancer wrapped in silk. Every step was precise, each movement a reminder of the power held within his veins. He did not rush nor hesitate.

Aurelion circled the prisoner once, appraising him like livestock.

“Still breathing,” he observed. A shadow looped around the elf’s chin, lifting his gaze. “How unfortunate for you.”

The elf only moaned in reply, silvered blood dribbling from his split lip.

“Where did you cross?” Aurelion asked gently. The softness in his voice surprised Lucan. He didn’t even know the vampire who turned him was capable of such a thing.

The prisoner did not answer. Shadows tightened at his throat, but he only glared at Aurelion.

“I am giving you a chance for a clean death, elf. You would be wise to accept it.”

Lucan stepped forward until Aurelion shifted his attention to him. “Father,” he began with a shaky voice, “he has given us nothing except old poems—”

“And yet, here we are. I question your methods when she still draws breath.”

Her manic laughter floated through his mind. I almost think you crave this eternal dance of silver in your flesh. Is that it, shivaem?

Lucan ran his tongue over the tips of his fangs. His vision began to swim as the prisoner’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. Hatred twisted into hunger. The rot living deep in his marrow seeped through every vein, every nerve, every sinew of muscle until his body ached with need.

So painfully, beautifully alive.

“Curious,” the Bloodlord murmured. “Your restraint has grown since your return.”

Lucan held perfectly still.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would almost think you have grown fond of these murderers.” Aurelion drew closer, breath soft against Lucan’s neck. “Or is it simply her?”

Something cold settled next to his heart.

“Never, Father,” Lucan replied automatically. Inside, his stomach curdled.

“Good. Then prove it.”

Lucan stepped toward the prisoner, still straining against the shadows at his throat. He seemed oblivious to the vampires around him, gaze unfocused as his lips moved without sound.

“When I found you, you thought you had known the limits of suffering.” Aurelion placed a hand on Lucan’s right shoulder. He flinched on reflex, skin burning as the old, faded scars remembered his master’s touch. “Fortunately for you, I rewarded you in the end—did I not?”

Lucan ground his teeth and forced a smile.

“Good.” Aurelion stepped around Lucan and stood at the elf’s side. “So, break him.”

Perhaps if he put on a good enough show, this would be Lucan’s only lesson tonight.

Turning his gaze toward the elf, the court melted away. The gentle thrum of harp strings and chatter melted into silence permeated only by the prisoner’s ragged breath. He stepped forward and bent down, leveling his gaze with those pale violet eyes.

“M-monster,” the elf choked out.