Enzo

I sat out on the steps of Crescent Manor, surveying the bustle of Bourbon Street below. The night air carried the scents of humanity—sweat, alcohol, perfume, desire—all of it meaningless to me now. Inside, Angelo and Serenity had finally found their peace, their love united before witnesses both mortal and immortal. The wedding music still drifted through the open windows, a melody that should have been celebratory but only twisted the knife of absence deeper into my chest.

I was happy for them. Genuinely. After centuries at Angelo’s side, I’d never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at his Nephilim bride. But all I could think about was Joy—her name a cruel irony now. She was out there somewhere, and the bond between us, that inexplicable pull I’d felt from the moment I saw her, grew more painful with each passing day.

My mate. The word still felt foreign in my mind, a concept I’d mocked other vampires for over the centuries. The pathetic way they’d become enslaved to a single being, how they’d throw away power, position, immortal dignity—all for the sake of one person. I understood now. Gods help me, I understood completely.

And the bitter twist of fate? Joy had no idea. She didn’t know what she was to me—that invisible, unbreakable thread that connected us, a bond she couldn’t yet feel. I’d recognized it instantly, that first moment our eyes met.

I swirled the bourbon in my glass, watching the amber liquid catch the moonlight. These agonizing weeks without her, and the world had already lost its color, its flavor. My meals became joyless ritual, my own heartbeat a stranger’s rhythm in my chest. Sleep eluded me. The bond between mates wasn’t just some romantic notion—it was an endless hunger, a constant emptiness that nothing could fill.

Maximo Barone had her. The thought set my fangs on edge, venom pooling in my mouth. I pictured his hands on her, her fear, her pain, and something primal and violent rose within me—a rage so pure it scared even me. Three centuries of carefully cultivated control threatened to shatter in an instant. And if—when—I found her, she wouldn’t understand the ferocity of my protection, wouldn’t know why I would tear apart anyone who had harmed her. How could I explain that she was mine in ways she couldn’t comprehend yet? That I’d recognized her as my eternal match.

I was done playing by the rules of mafia engagement with the kings. Done with territories and councils, with diplomatic channels and negotiated terms. The old Enzo—Angelo’s reasonable enforcer, the strategist, the one who counseled patience—was gone. In his place stood something else, something even the vampire world had reason to fear: a mated vampire separated from his other half.

I drained the bourbon in one swallow and rose to my feet. Let Maximo hide. Let him run. The game had changed, and he had no idea what was coming for him.

For her, I would burn the world.

Do you want to find out what happens between Enzo and Joy? Dive into their story with Oath of Blood and Joy .

Here’s a small excerpt from Joy’s point of view.