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“Of course it’s okay.” Archer’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe you can help me convince the board that memes are a valid advertising strategy.”

“Please don’t.” Zane pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What? The youngsters love them! Right, Luca?”

I bit my lip to hide a smile. “They can be effective when used properly…”

“See?” Archer beamed at Zane. “Our prince gets it! This is why he’s my new favorite sibling.”

“Your presentation was due yesterday,” Ryker reminded him, but his lips twitched with amusement.

“And now it’ll be even better with Luca’s help.” Archer stood, offering me his hand. “Shall we, Prince? Let me show you the wild world of marketing.”

The private elevator was a sleek glass capsule that offered dizzying views of New Vale. I tried to focus on the cityscape instead of how Archer’s scent filled the enclosed space or how his shoulder occasionally brushed mine as the elevator descended.

“Nervous?” he asked, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The casual touch sent tingles down my spine.

“N-no,” I lied, then squeaked as the elevator dropped another floor. “Maybe a little.”

Archer’s laugh was warm and rich. “Don’t worry. Marketing’s the fun department. We leave all the serious business stuff to Zane and Ryker.”

The elevator dinged, saving me from having to form a coherent response. Which was probably good, because my brain had short-circuited somewhere between his touch and that intense gaze.

The marketing floor buzzed to life as we stepped out of the elevator, like someone had kicked a creative beehive.

“Good morning, Mr. Whitlock!”

“Welcome back, sir!”

“Morning, Alpha!”

The greetings echoed across the floor, accompanied by heads bowing respectfully as we passed. I tried not to shrink under the attention that shifted to me almost immediately. Their whispers weren’t exactly subtle.

“The Valentine prince…”

“I heard he was the only survivor when his clan fell in Dark Haven…”

“They say he never leaves the penthouse…”

“Look at his skin—it’s like moonlight…”

Great. Just great. Apparently, I wasn’t just a vampire prince, I was gossip central.At least in my old life, office gossip had been about who stole whose lunch from the break room.

Archer’s hand settled protectively at the small of my back as he guided me through the maze of desks and creative spaces. His corner office was what would happen if a corporate executive suite had a baby with an art studio. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of New Vale. The remaining walls showcased what I assumed were the clan’s most successful campaigns through the decades. A massive digital screen dominated one wall, displaying project timelines in a riot of colors that made my inner organization nerd swoon. His desk, a sleek glass monstrosity, was covered in sketches and mock-ups, yet somehow managed to look artistically messy rather than cluttered.

Note to self: even chaos looks expensive when you’re supernatural royalty.

“Good morning, Mr. Whitlock,” his PA stood from his desk in the anteroom, tablet already in hand. “The Beyond Beauty team meeting is in an hour. Until then, you have the quarterly reports to review, three calls with potential clients, and the Park Clan’s entertainment division wants to discuss collaboration opportunities.”

“Thanks, Marcus.” Archer grinned, then gestured to the younger assistant who was setting down a tray with coffee and what looked like blood-infused tea. “Luca, that’s Marcus who keeps me from causing corporate chaos, and his assistant Tae who makes sure I’m properly caffeinated.”

Both men’s eyes widened at my presence, Tae nearly dropping the tray in his excitement.

“Prince Valentine! We’ve heard so much about you!” Tae gushed, then immediately blushed at his own enthusiasm.

I wandered to the windows while Archer reviewed his schedule with Marcus, trying to distract myself from the way Tae kept sneaking glances at me like I was some rare creature he’d just discovered. From this high up, New Vale looked almost magical, sunlight catching on glass towers and—was that someoneflyingbetween buildings?

Right. Supernatural city. Flying is probably as normal as taking the subway was in my old life.