Chapter 81

**ARIA**

There were few things in life as sacred as a night spent with your best friends, an obscene amount of chocolate, and absolutely zero regard for consequences.

Leila sat cross-legged on the couch, a half-empty box of truffles balanced on her lap. "I'm just saying, if Cassius thinks he can order me around just because I’m pregnant, he has another thing coming." She bit aggressively into a piece of dark chocolate, eyes burning with defiance.

"Men," I muttered, peeling open another wrapper.

"Men," Leila agreed.

"You two are actually ridiculous," Rosalie sighed, watching us like a disappointed mother. "Leila, you’re literally growing a tiny, helpless person. And Aria, you—" She waved a hand at me. "I don’t even know where to begin with you."

I grinned. "No need. I like being a mystery."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, stealing a caramel from my pile.

There was a knock at the door.

Leila sighed dramatically, shoved the chocolate aside, and got up to answer it.

The moment she swung it open, her entire expression darkened.

Then, without a word, she closed the door right in Adam’s face.

Rosalie choked on her drink.

"Leila," I groaned, shoving my chocolates aside.

"What?" she said, completely unapologetic. "I’m mad at him."

The knocking resumed, a little sharper this time.

I exhaled deeply and stood up. "Fine, I’ll get it."

I swung the door open and leaned against the frame, raising an eyebrow. "You’d think the big bad hybrid king wouldn’t let a closed door stop him."

Adam’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t test me, Aria."

I grinned. "What do you want?"

His expression shifted slightly, and suddenly, I knew.

"You agreed," I breathed, eyes lighting up.

Adam ran a hand through his hair, clearly already regretting everything. "Austin and I agreed. That doesn’t mean it’s a good idea."

I ignored the second part.

I had won.

I was going to Europe.

I was going to **meet someone who was there—****someone who had witnessed the prophecy being buried, who had been a part of the decisions that had*** 
**changed the course of history.**

**This was everything I wanted.**

**Adam sighed heavily, watching my expression shift into something dangerously close to triumph.**

**"Aria—"**

**"Too late," I said cheerfully, stepping back into the apartment. "You already said yes."**

I had to bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

"A castle. In Transylvania," I muttered under my breath as Adam and I stood in front of an actual medieval fortress, complete with gargoyles, towering spires, and an ominous full moon conveniently placed in the background.

"You’re enjoying this way too much," Adam sighed beside me.

"I mean, you have to admit it’s a little—"

"It’s not funny."

I snorted. "You’re right. It’s hilarious."

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose like he was reconsidering every life choice that had led him here.

Before he could lecture me further, the massive wooden doors creaked open, and we were met with quite possibly the most surreal sight of my entire life.
A tall, regal-looking man stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but an open velvet dressing gown, embroidered slippers, and a completely unapologetic expression.

I blinked.

Adam blinked.

Lord Ambrose—the legend, the enigma, the half-naked vampire aristocrat—spread his arms dramatically. "Ah, my guests have arrived! Welcome, welcome! Come in, don’t be shy."

Adam looked like he wanted to turn around and walk back to the airport. I, on the other hand, was already suppressing a grin.
The castle interior was just as extravagant as I had imagined. Dark wood, flickering candlelight, enormous paintings of what I could only assume were dead relatives. Other vampires lounged in shadowy corners, watching us with vague amusement.
Lord Ambrose led us through a long hallway, his robe flowing dramatically behind him, until we reached what looked like a grand salon straight out of the 18th century.

Adam, being Adam, was all business. "You already know why we’re here."

But Ambrose wasn't listening.

His sharp blue eyes were trained entirely on Adam, practically vibrating with curiosity. "A hybrid," he murmured, circling him like a predator assessing its prey. "I’ve heard stories, but I’ve never actually seen one in the flesh."

Adam stiffened. "I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me like I was an exotic animal."

"Forgive me, darling boy, but you are a scientific marvel!" Ambrose practically purred, reaching out as if he wanted to touch Adam’s face before thinking better of it. "Tell me, do you crave blood or meat more? How does your transformation work? Can you withstand sunlight? Oh, tell me—do you sparkle?"

I choked.

Adam’s entire body tensed with restraint. "No, I do not sparkle."

"A pity," Ambrose sighed.

I was absolutely living for this.

"Lord Ambrose," I cut in, before Adam could actually kill our host. "I’m Aria Scava."

The moment my last name left my lips, Ambrose’s entire demeanor shifted. He suddenly stilled, eyes narrowing as he studied me.
"Scava," he repeated, as if tasting the name. Then, his entire face lit up. "Well, well, well," he purred, clapping his hands together. "So it’s true. You really are one of Alessandro’s descendants. No wonder you came to see me."

Adam and I exchanged a glance.

"You knew him?" I asked carefully.

"Knew him?" Ambrose laughed, a low, rich sound. "My dear girl, I was there when the prophecy was buried. And now, here you are—living proof that history always finds a way to repeat itself."