Page 49

Sebastián

I t felt like hours before we all poured into Killigrew Street’s basement through the bookcase entrance. My body thrummed with a peculiar energy—Flynn’s blood had done more than sate my hunger. Every nerve ending sparked with vitality.

Combined with Flynn’s worst attack yet at Rising Dough, it was safe to say the dark magic within him was maturing far quicker than we’d like. My gaze drifted to his chest. What marks currently decorated his skin?

Despite the late hour—nearly eleven—the team gathered in the basement. I deliberately chose the armchair opposite Flynn’s position, maintaining a careful distance. He’d zipped his hoodie up to his chin, the fabric dark with grime, hiding any evidence of my… indiscretion .

The phantom taste of his blood still lingered—sweet and electric—a haunting reminder of how close I’d come to draining him completely. My fingernails bit into my palm at the memory—his writhing form beneath me, those breathy moans of pleasure that had only encouraged my bloodlust.

The recollection of Flynn’s voice pierced through my shame—how he’d reached me even in those depths, with his promises of home.

In that moment, even covered in blood and gore, Flynn had seen past the monster to whatever fragment of humanity still existed within me. He’d offered not just his blood, but his heart. His trust.

And I’d nearly destroyed both.

Rory broke my thoughts by collapsing onto the sofa beside Flynn, his usual bounce conspicuously absent. I watched Flynn blink at him, his gaze tracing the precise lines of Rory’s eye makeup with obvious curiosity.

“Thanks for ruining my date.” Rory’s head lolled against the back of the sofa. “Spent a good thirty minutes on this makeup, you know. Got us VIP seats at my friend’s drag show and everything.”

Flynn gave an exaggerated grimace.

“And let me tell you,” Rory continued, crossing his arms, slumping further into the cushions. “They did not believe my story about my pet ferret being sick.”

Kit’s exasperated sigh cut through the room. “I’ve told you before about this. A sick ferret is not a reasonable excuse for cancelling plans!”

“But poor Freddy is sick! He’s literally dead!”

“Next time, just say you’ve got food poisoning like a normal person, and they might let you reschedule.”

Before the brothers could continue bickering, Felix appeared with a tray of steaming hot chocolate, its rich aroma filling the air as he set it on the table.

Then Priya bounded down the stairs, beelining straight for Flynn to launch herself at him. Her arms wrapped around him in a fierce embrace that made him stiffen momentarily. “We were so worried,” she mumbled into his hoodie.

Flynn’s hand came up to pat her back awkwardly. “I’m okay. Really.”

My jaw clenched at the lie. He was far from okay—the dark magic consuming him, my loss of control with his blood, being attacked and kidnapped. But watching Priya fuss over him stirred something warm in my chest. Flynn needed this—needed to know people cared about his well-being.

Felix hovered nearby, fingers twisting his hoodie hem. His gaze darted between Priya and Flynn, longing flashing across his face before he looked away.

Priya settled between Flynn and Rory, distributing mugs. Silence fell as five pairs of eyes turned to me, waiting. They expected analysis, tasks, security protocols …

But exhaustion lined every face. Dark circles under Felix’s eyes, Rory’s energy dimmed, Flynn nearly collapsing into his mug—an inevitable effect of serving as an impromptu blood bank.

I cleared my throat. “You’re all tired. We’ll pick this up first thing tomorrow morning.”

A collective sigh of relief rippled through the room. Bodies sank deeper into cushions, tension bleeding from shoulders.

My gaze drifted to Flynn, who’d buried his nose in his hot chocolate.

A dollop of whipped cream clung to his upper lip, and my throat tightened.

Our kiss had been everything I’d denied myself—passionate yet tender, igniting a fire that had smouldered for decades.

In that moment, I’d felt truly alive, buzzing with want and need.

The urge to lean across and lick the whipped cream from his lip crashed through me with startling intensity. Before I could stop myself, I reached out, wiping it away with my thumb.

Flynn’s breath hitched. Our eyes locked, and the basement air grew thick. My thumb remained glued to his cheek. So easy to bring it to his mouth, for him to—

Rory’s loud, deliberate cough shattered the moment.

I jerked away, dropping my hand as if burned, then tried not to catch anyone’s eye as they drained their drinks. Thankfully, Priya, Felix and Rory soon said their goodbyes and headed for the bookcase.

Kit lingered in his seat, knowing I’d want to talk to him. When I took a step towards him, Flynn blocked me.

“Come sleep in my room.” Flynn’s eyes sparkled with a light I was about to dim.

I shifted my weight, guilt coiling in my gut.

“I really don’t ever sleep much, especially at this hour.

Perhaps a few hours before dawn, but…” The words caught.

How to explain that while nothing would please me more than to lie beside him all night, duty called?

“I have work that requires my attention.”

No, Sebastián. Those were certainly not the right words.

His face fell, the sparkle extinguishing. The sight struck deeper than a wooden stake.

“However…” I stepped closer, dropping my volume. “I could come to your chambers later. You’ll wake to find me there.”

Flynn eyed me, a mix of hope and wariness crossing his features. “Promise?”

Promises were not something I made lightly—not after centuries of watching them shatter. “I promise I’ll try, Flynn.”

“Sorry.” He ducked his head, cheeks flushing. “I’m being—”

“No.” I caught his chin with my fingers, tilting his face up. “Don’t apologise. The fact you desire my presence in your bed at all…” I paused, searching for the right words. “It honours me more than you know.”

My gaze followed Flynn as he left the basement, watching until his silhouette disappeared up the stairs. Even then, my eyes lingered on the empty doorway, tracking the echo of his footsteps.

“So…” Kit settled into the armchair opposite me. “Do we… need to talk about this?”

I sighed. “Go ahead.”

Kit’s fingers drummed against the arm of his chair, his expression unreadable. “I see you’ve gotten rather attached to our guest. And I don’t just mean your fangs attaching to his neck.”

“Just a bit.” I grimaced. “I think… I may have gotten attached from the moment I saw him at Wilde Card. So bright. So trusting. Showering attention on that foul demon. Looking at him like he’d never seen true darkness in this world.”

“He’s got an adventurous spirit.” Kit leaned forward. “Lad’s young, Seb. Got wanderlust in his blood. He was telling Rory he means to sail the Atlantic one day. All I’m saying is, he might not stay in London forever.”

The words struck like ice through my chest. I knew all this—I wasn’t stupid, or in denial.

Just a bit lovesick .

Kit’s words about Flynn’s wanderlust echoed in my mind, stirring uncomfortable truths I’d been avoiding. A relationship with Flynn could only end in two ways—his departure or his death.

Humans were ephemeral creatures. Their lives blazed bright and brief, like shooting stars across the night sky. Even if Flynn chose to stay, time would claim him eventually. His golden hair would silver, while I would remain unchanged, forced to watch him fade.

I’d sworn after James never to entangle myself with mortals again. The pain of our separation had nearly broken me. Yet here I was falling into the same trap with a boy who dreamed of sailing across oceans.

A phantom tingle spread across my tongue—Flynn’s blood, tasting of salt and freedom. Perhaps that’s what drew me to him—that wild spirit that refused to be caged.

Time. Such a peculiar master to serve when you’d lived as long as me.

I’d watched horse-drawn carriages give way to motorcars, witnessed the birth of electric light.

Yet somehow, these grand sweeps of history felt less real to me than the simple movement of Flynn’s hands as he gestured while speaking, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

The curse of immortality wasn’t in watching the world change—it was in watching it remain achingly, beautifully the same.

The way lovers still met on rain-soaked streets, the way mothers still cradled their children.

Time had stolen so many of my memories, turned five centuries into a fog of half-remembered faces and places, but it had never dulled the sharp edge of loss. James had taught me that.

And now Flynn threatened to make time matter again, to make each second precious and terrifying. To make me count the hours between messages, the minutes between touches, the moments until I might see him again.

“But that’s no reason you shouldn’t try, Seb,” Kit continued, tone softening. “Seven years I’ve known you, and you’ve never let anyone close. You deserve a bit of happiness, aye? Something normal?”

I barked out a laugh. “Normal? There’s nothing normal about this situation.

And what if it doesn’t work out?” The words tumbled out, questions that had been circling through my mind for days.

“What if it ends just like it did with James?” The memory of that heartbreak crashed through me—the worst pain imaginable, the rage that followed.

“I’ve told you what it did to me. How my mind broke, the weight of eternity alone too much.

The senseless slaughter of all those innocent lives. ”