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Their easy banter flowed around me like a warm current. I sipped my blood, trying to focus on the conversation instead of how the candlelight caught the strong line of Zane’s jaw or the way Archer’s laugh made his throat move so temptingly or how Ryker’s fingers wrapped around his wineglass with such elegant strength…

“Speaking of ancient bloodlines.” Great Uncle Johnathan’s voice cut through my inappropriate musings. “The council had quite the interesting discussion today about the fated ones.”

“Really, Uncle?” Archer groaned dramatically. “Shop talk at dinner?”

“We’re family first, dear boy,” Great Uncle Johnathan said primly, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “And we must be prepared. Silver Crown is already making moves?—”

“When aren’t they?” Ryker muttered.

“—and don’t get me started on Dark Haven,” Great Uncle Johnathan continued. “Their methods of acquiring what they want are… questionable at best.”

“You mean they steal anything not nailed down?” Archer’s grin turned wicked. “Or anyone?”

My ears perked up despite myself. Fated ones? Like in those novels I’d guiltily devoured back in my old life? The ones with destined mates and soul-deep connections and… I forced myself to look away from where Zane’s hand rested on the table.

“After what happened at the council today,” Great Uncle Johnathan said, his tone serious despite Archer’s levity. “With the tomb awakening, we need to be vigilant for the signs?—”

“Right, the maybe-glowing, possibly floating signs?” Archer interrupted with a grin, glancing meaningfully at me.

“The ancient texts mention several indicators,” Great Uncle Johnathan continued, giving Archer a stern look. “The pull of compatible blood being one of the most significant?—”

I choked on my drink.

“Luca?” Zane’s concerned voice only made it worse. “Are you alright?”

I nodded quickly, trying not to think about how his blood had called to me. That was just normal vampire stuff, right? Nothing to do with fate or destiny or the way his scent made my head spin…

“Perhaps we should save the council discussions for another time,” Aunt Senna suggested diplomatically. “Luca, dear, would you like more blood? You’ve barely touched your glass.”

Because I was too busy trying not to touch your nephews, I thought hysterically.

“I’m fine,” I managed, though Ryker’s knowing look suggested I wasn’t fooling anyone. “Please, tell me more about these… fated ones?”

“Well…” Great Uncle Johnathan settled back in his chair, clearly pleased to have an interested audience. “The ancient texts speak of bonds so powerful they can transcend worlds?—”

“Here we go,” Archer stage-whispered to Ryker. “Next comes the part about magical soul connections.”

“Which you’d know more about if you attended council meetings regularly,” Great Uncle Johnathan said pointedly.

“Hey, I was there today!” Archer protested. “I even took notes. Well, drawings. Mostly of Lord Thanatos’s dramatic wing poses, but still?—”

“The point is,” Great Uncle Johnathan continued with dignified patience, “these bonds are becoming more crucial as the barriers between worlds grow thinner. The other cities are already positioning themselves.”

I leaned forward slightly, fascinated despite myself. The old Luca’s memories were hazy about council matters—he’d never shown much interest in politics. But this… this sounded like something straight out of my favorite novels.

“Dark Haven’s hunters grow bolder,” Uncle Owen added, his security chief persona showing through. “Three incursions this month alone.”

“And Silver Crown reopened their breeding programs,” Aunt Senna’s usual warmth cooled notably.

“Storm Gate’s black market is thriving again too,” Ryker added grimly. “Their trafficking rings are getting more sophisticated.”

“Breeding programs? Trafficking?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Seven pairs of eyes turned to me in varying degrees of surprise—I wasn’t known for participating in such discussions.

“Each city has its… methods,” Great Uncle Johnathan’s aristocratic features hardened. “Dark Haven destroys what it fears, Silver Crown tries to control through forced breeding, and Storm Gate sells to the highest bidder. All barbaric practices that end in tragedy.”

“Because you can’t force fate,” Ryker said quietly, his warm spice and bergamot scent wrapping around me like a caress. “The texts are clear about that.”

I caught him watching me again, his expression unreadable. My fangs tingled in response, and I quickly took another sip of blood.