Chapter Eighty-Nine

Anonymous Character's POV

I watch her.

The girl in the center of the room—Remi, they call her. She stands there, trembling, yet somehow still beautiful. The dark brown hair cascading down her back, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, like she’s trying to convince herself she doesn’t belong here. But I see through her. Beneath that fragile exterior, I can sense the desperation, the hunger she’s trying to bury deep inside. The innocence that is just begging to be shattered. It makes me smile, that sweetness that clings to her. Something so delicate, so breakable. Something I could ruin with just a whisper.

She’s a fool, just like the rest of them. But she’s not the worst of them. No, that title belongs to Keiran, that miserable excuse for a king. The one who claims to rule this disgusting court of vampires, these hollow creatures who have long since forgotten the value of a soul. They feed on blood, but they don’t know what it means to live.

Unlike my half-brother, I don’t drink blood. No, I feed off souls. The essence of life itself. They say that vampires don’t have souls. Maybe that’s true, but that doesn’t make them any less interesting to me. Every vampire here is a walking corpse, pretending to be alive. And Keiran? He is the worst of them all. He’s too proud, too eager to play king. He parades himself around, putting on this great show, pretending to control everything. What a fucking joke.

I haven’t been around vampires in a thousand years. I left them behind, abandoned this whole festering world. I’d forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by so much weakness, so much emptiness. But now, I’m back. Watching from the shadows, because I’ve been waiting for this moment. I know exactly what’s going to happen next. Keiran is always two steps ahead, but I’m always ten.

I watch as Remi lowers her head, her eyes flickering to the ground as she catches a glimpse of Keiran. She’s so damn captivated by him. I see it in the way she reacts—how her pulse races, how her body responds to his presence. She doesn’t even realize it yet, but she’s already his. Not just his pet, as they like to call her, but something far more valuable. But Keiran... he doesn’t deserve her. Not the way I do.

I see it. I see why they all stare at her. The twins, that fucking Rhodes, and even Keiran—they all want her. They all want to possess her. Their obsession is so obvious. And yet, it’s laughable. She’s nothing more than a pawn in their sick game.

I can hear Keiran now, the low, commanding tone of his voice cutting through the tension in the air. "This evening," he says, "will mark her ascension to my equal for the throne."

The words echo in the room. For a moment, the entire place seems to hold its breath, as if it’s waiting for something more. The room goes still, but I know what’s coming. I know what he’s about to do. He’ll put on the show of his life, make a display of power, but it won’t be enough. It never is.

The King of the Fifth Isle sneers, disgust written across his face. "You cannot be serious," he mutters. I feel his revulsion from where I stand, but I’m already bored. I’m already two steps ahead.

“This pet,” Keiran responds, his voice low, and dripping with authority, “is more than that.”

I can practically feel the tension building, thick enough to choke on. The King of the Fifth Isle, already offended by Keiran’s earlier actions, opens his mouth to protest. His words rise, but before he can finish, Keiran moves. His fangs flash, and the air turns to ice. Without a word, Keiran sinks them deep into Remi’s neck.

A sharp gasp escapes her lips. She’s trembling in his grasp, but I can see the shiver of pleasure that runs through her body. How utterly predictable. I can practically taste her fear, and yet, I see the darkness in her eyes. She’s not afraid. She’s just... overwhelmed. She likes it.

I imagine that makes breaking her all the sweeter.

The King of the Fifth Isle makes to leave, disgust written across his face. But Keiran doesn’t let him go. No one leaves without Keiran’s permission.

I can almost hear the snap of Keiran’s fingers, a signal to his loyal hounds, and then Rhodes and Kallias are moving like shadows, trapping the King of the Fifth Isle in place. He can’t move. He’s frozen—locked in his place, powerless.

But Keiran doesn’t stop drinking from her. His grip tightens on Remi as he drinks deeply. I watch as the room shifts, the air thickening with his power, the very walls of the Midnight Court trembling beneath it. It’s almost palpable, this power, this terrifying intensity.

And still, he doesn’t stop.

Finally, Keiran pulls back, his lips glistening with her blood, his eyes glowing with an unmistakable hunger. His gaze locks onto the King of the Fifth Isle, and I watch as the light fades from his face. The King realizes just how far he’s crossed a line. Keiran steps forward, his eyes burning with cold fury, and the room goes still. No one dares to speak.

“I know your armies are docked just outside my city walls,” Keiran says, his voice low, filled with a quiet, seething rage. “And I know you have my pearl.”

I watch as the King of the Fifth Isle pales, realizing his mistake. The room is heavy with silence, the air thick with tension. Keiran’s words hang in the air like a death sentence.

I can’t help but smirk. Clever boy. Bringing all his enemies into one place so he can destroy them in one move. But not clever enough. He’s never been clever enough.

I’m always one step ahead. Always.

The vampires around us begin to disperse after Keiran finishes dealing with the King of the Fifth Isle. The crowd is filled with bodices and tuxes, fleeing from the chaos of the court, but I stay where I am, in the shadows, out of sight.

I have no intention of mingling with the herd.

Instead, I follow them. Keiran. The twins. Remi. I trail in their wake, silently, unseen. I move like a shadow, weaving through the hallways of the Midnight Court, following them into Keiran’s study.

It’s quiet in here—too quiet, like a still pool of water that hasn’t been disturbed in years. I stay above them, hidden in the shadows, watching as they gather around the table, the war maps spread out before them.

Keiran slams his fist against the table, his temper flaring. “It didn’t fucking work,” he spits, his voice harsh with frustration. “The King didn’t come in person.”

I can’t help but smirk at the irony of it all. Keiran’s plans are always so grandiose. Always too reliant on others. How pathetic.

“What do you mean, he didn’t come in person?” Remi asks, her voice trembling slightly, but I can tell she’s scared. Smart girl. Her eyes flicker between Keiran and the twins, trying to piece together the fractured situation.

Keiran, in a rare moment of weakness, looks at her with pure frustration. He smashes a bottle on the ground, the sound sharp and startling.
“Fuck,” he mutters.

The room grows quiet again, tension thick in the air.

Kallias, ever the calm one, steps in, his voice smooth and steady. “It’s a projection,” he explains, his eyes dark with the same fury Keiran carries. “The King wasn’t physically here. His forces are.”

Remi, clearly confused, glances between them. “So the armies are real?”

“Yes,” Kallias says, his gaze meeting hers. “Very.”

Keiran raises his head then, and for the first time, I see the cracks. His eyes are haunted. He looks at the war maps, his fingers tracing the lines of battle, his expression tight with worry. His next words, when they finally come, are quiet, almost defeated.

“My city won’t survive this onslaught,” Keiran admits, his voice barely audible. “My plan was to kill the King, so the army would have no one to fight for. No bloodshed. But that was before this... before the projection.”

There’s a beat of silence as the room absorbs the weight of his words.

And then, Remi’s voice cuts through it all. “But the pearl... it’s here, isn’t it?”

The question hangs in the air, and I watch as Keiran’s eyes snap to hers. His gaze is sharp, almost panicked. “What did you just say?”
“The pearl,” Remi repeats, her voice quieter now, but still firm. “It’s here, isn’t it?”

Keiran exchanges a look with Kallias, and then Xaden—my half-brother—enters without a sound, standing behind me before I even notice his presence. I can feel his ice-white hair brush against my back as he takes his position.

But I’m not ready for what happens next.

Remi looks from Keiran to me, her face filled with confusion and fear. “Who's that?” she whispers, her voice shaking.

I don’t respond. I never do. Little girls are always scared of me.

She repeats her question, louder now, and the others seem to take notice. Keiran stands from his chair, moving toward her. He grabs her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes.

“What do you mean my pearl is here?” he demands, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

Remi points at me, and suddenly, all eyes are on me—Keiran, the twins, Xaden, and Remi. I lift the pearl in my palm, the glowing light shimmering softly in my hand.

“Long time no see, Keiran."