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Benedict placed the goblet before Luca, its contents a shimmering crimson like liquid garnets. “A blend of O negative and AB positive,” he explained, “infused with essence of winter berries and moonflower.”

“It’s remarkable seeing you out and about,” Uncle Owen commented as Luca took his first careful sip.

Luca’s eyes widened. “This is… incredible! It almost tastes like…” The prince paused, searching for words as the rest of the family enjoyed their feast. The mac and cheese’s aroma was particularly torturous, all truffled decadence and melted gruyere that Luca’s vampire constitution could no longer process.

“Like that chocolate éclair you were eyeing at the café?” Archer suggested, his knowing grin making Luca’s cheeks flush pink.

“I was being subtle about my pastry envy,” the boy mumbled, dabbing his lips with a napkin.

“About as subtle as your territorial display with Isabella,” Sylvie quipped, delicately twirling perfect strands of truffle-laden pasta around her fork.

“I wasn’t being territorial!” Luca protested, though his blush deepened. “I was just… I mean, she was so…”

“Presumptuous?” Archer supplied helpfully, ignoring the kick Ryker aimed at his shin under the table. “What was it you said about her hands and their unfortunate attachment to his arms?”

The staff returned with a parade of side dishes—roasted vegetables glazed with honey and herbs, potato dauphinoise layered with cream and garlic, fresh-baked rolls that steamed when broken open. Luca’s fangs ached just looking at it all.

“Children.” Great Uncle Johnathan’s stern tone held a hint of amusement. “Perhaps we could discuss something other than dismemberment at the dinner table? Though I must say, Luca”—his eyes twinkled—”it’s refreshing to see you taking such an… active interest in social interactions.”

“Indeed,” Owen added, helping himself to more lamb. “Just last week you wouldn’t even join us for movie night, and now you’re defending family honor at the Crystal Palace?”

“He’s finally embracing his inner vampire prince,” Sylvie declared proudly. “You should have seen him put Isabella in her place. All those years of watching anime finally paid off!”

“I still can’t believe you threatened to remove her hands.” Archer grinned, reaching for the mac and cheese that Luca was definitely not staring at longingly. “Very vampire prince of you.”

“I did not threaten—” Luca began, then caught Archer’s raised eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I implied some light dismemberment. But she was being so… clingy!”

“To Archer?” Aunt Senna’s innocent tone didn’t match her knowing smile. “How interesting.”

Luca’s cheeks flamed darker as Benedict appeared with a fresh glass of the blood-fusion drink. Across the table, Zane’s fork bent slightly, while Ryker seemed intensely focused on his risotto.

“The old Luca would never have left his room, let alone defended family honor,” Great Uncle Johnathan mused. “Perhaps this is a sign of your vampire powers finally manifesting?”

“Or perhaps,” Archer drawled, his eyes fixed on Luca’s flustered expression, “our little prince just needed the right motivation to spread his wings.”

Half an hour later, the staff began clearing the main course plates, replacing them with dessert settings that had Luca’s unnecessary breath catching.

Harrison himself wheeled in a cart laden with sweets—chocolate soufflés rising perfectly, crème br?lée with perfectly caramelized tops, and what appeared to be individual molten lava cakes dusted with gold.

“Don’t worry, Prince,” Benedict murmured, placing a final crystal goblet before Luca. “This blend is infused with dark chocolate essence. The kitchen has been quite innovative lately.”

Luca took a sip and actually moaned, earning sharp looks from all three Whitlock brothers. “It’s amazing! Though seeing all these desserts is still torture…”

“Better than watching everyone else enjoy the soufflé,” Archer teased, breaking open his own dessert with obvious relish. The chocolate center flowed out like liquid sin.

“You’re evil,” Luca informed him, clutching his blood-chocolate consolation prize. “All of you. Eating real food in front of the vampire prince.”

The family’s laughter rang out, warm and genuine. Even Zane’s stern expression softened watching Luca banter freely with everyone—so different from the silent shadow he’d been just days ago.

Library, Zane’s mental reminder cut through Archer’s enjoyment of the moment. As soon as dinner ends.

Archer just grinned, watching Luca attempt to appreciate his blood-fusion drink while clearly plotting revenge for Archer’s deliberate dessert appreciation. The upcoming lecture would be worth it, if only for how alive Luca looked tonight, finally stepping into his role as their vampire prince.

Though perhaps “brother” wasn’t quite the right word anymore, given how Archer’s wolf reacted to Luca’s presence. But that was a dangerous thought for another time.

Preferably after Zane finished killing him in the library.

T he family dispersed after dinner—Hunter immediately retreated to his gaming den, while Sylvie linked arms with Luca, chattering about trying on their new purchases.

Great Uncle Johnathan excused himself to his study, though his knowing look spoke volumes.

Uncle Owen and Aunt Senna headed for their evening walk in the rooftop garden, tactfully ignoring the tension crackling between the three brothers.

Archer followed Zane and Ryker past rows of ancient texts to their private study tucked away in the library’s inner sanctum.

The heavy mahogany doors closed behind them with an ominous click.

This secluded room, with its leather-bound volumes and centuries of accumulated knowledge surrounding them, usually soothed him, but tonight it felt charged with anticipation.

Zane took his usual position by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights creating a dramatic backdrop as he turned to face his younger brothers. Ryker settled into one of the leather armchairs, his casual pose belied by the sharp attention in his eyes.

Archer sprawled across the leather sofa, deliberately projecting an air of unconcern that he knew would irritate Zane. “So,” he drawled, “shall we discuss how our little vampire prince nearly committed murder over my personal space today?”

The growl that rumbled from Zane’s chest had the windows vibrating. “This isn’t a joke, Archer.”

“No?” Archer’s grin widened. “Because watching Luca threaten to dismember Isabella for touching me was pretty entertaining.”

“You’re encouraging him,” Ryker observed, though Archer caught the flash of something darker in his brother’s eyes. “The shopping, the compliments, the deliberate provocation at dinner…”

“I’m being a good brother,” Archer protested, not even trying to hide his satisfaction. “Supporting his newfound confidence. Helping him embrace his vampire nature. Building family bonds…”

“Family bonds?” Zane’s voice could have frozen hellfire. “Is that what you call making him blush every time you mentioned the café incident? Or deliberately describing that chocolate soufflé while he could only drink blood?”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one who bent a fork watching his reaction,” Archer shot back. “Besides, you should be thanking me. Two days ago, he wouldn’t leave his room. Now he’s threatening socialites and marking his territory.”

“He’s not marking territory,” Ryker interjected, though his tone lacked conviction. “He’s just…”

“Just what? Casually offering to remove Isabella’s hands for touching his ‘brother’?” Archer made air quotes around the word. “Because that’s definitely normal sibling behavior.”

“Nothing about this is normal,” Zane growled, pacing like a caged wolf. “He’s supposed to be our brother.”

“Supposed to be,” Archer mused, examining his nails with exaggerated care. “Funny how neither of you complained about that when he was hiding in his room. But now that he’s showing signs of… interest…”

The crystal decanter on the side table cracked under the force of Zane’s anger bleeding through their bond.

“Oh, sorry.” Archer’s eyes widened with mock innocence. “Was I not supposed to mention how you both nearly wolfed out when he moaned over that blood-chocolate drink? My mistake.”

Ryker pinched the bridge of his nose. “Archer…”

“Or should we discuss why our big bad alpha’s hands are shaking every time he calls me generous? Jealous much, brother?”

“That’s enough!” Zane’s alpha voice rattled the bookshelves.

“Is it?” Archer sat up, his playful facade dropping. “Because I distinctly felt both of you react when he got possessive today. And none of those feelings were brotherly.”

A heavy silence fell over the library. Through their bond, Archer could feel the turmoil in both his brothers—desire warring with duty, instinct clashing with responsibility.

“We’re supposed to protect him,” Ryker finally said, his voice rough.

“And who’s going to protect him from us?” Zane added quietly.

“Maybe,” Archer suggested, his tone gentler now, “he doesn’t need protection from us. Maybe what happened today proves he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.”

“As our brother,” Zane bit out, though his clenched fists betrayed his inner struggle. “Which is exactly why this stops now. No more shopping trips, no more deliberate provocations, no more… whatever game you’re playing, Archer.”

“Game?” Archer’s playful demeanor slipped, revealing something darker. “You think that’s what this is? You didn’t feel what I felt today when he got territorial. That wasn’t brotherly concern, Zane. And we all know it.”

“It doesn’t matter what it was,” Ryker interjected, though his own voice was strained.

“We’re his protectors. His brothers. Grandfather Alexander and Lord Valentine were blood-sworn brothers.

When Dark Haven’s politics turned deadly, Valentine knew his clan’s days were numbered.

He made Grandfather swear a blood oath that the Whitlocks would protect Luca if anything happened to them. ”