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Mathias could scent it. Fear that the bond made him vulnerable. Fear that a single human could become a weakness large enough to crack the entire camp. Fear that the Sun’s Call, even now growing louder, would only accelerate now that his attention was divided.
Gina stood apart from the others, her expression carefully neutral. Only the tension in her shoulders and the too-still way she held herself betrayed her true reaction. When their eyes met across the room, she gave the smallest nod of public acceptance. But Mathias had known her for too long to miss the calculation behind it. The claim had shifted the balance of power, and Gina was even now measuring what it would cost her.
Rolf moved to Mathias’ side, voice low enough that only he could hear. “They’re unsettled. Some see strength. Others see a liability.”
“I know,” Mathias answered.
He dismissed Rolf and kept one hand at the back of Carson’s neck, a visible reminder of the claim, while the camp slowly returned to the controlled rhythm of the reaping. The feeding resumed. The illusions held. But the fractures had begun to spread.
The human was his. And it appeared that not everyone in the camp was prepared to accept what that meant.
Zeke approached quietly, crouching nearby. “Brother,” he murmured, voice low with warning. “Gina watches too closely. Her jealousy grows with every night you slip away. This bond...it unsettles the dam. Tread carefully.”
Mathias tensed but didn’t pull away, nuzzling into Carson’s neck instead, lips brushing the fresh marks. “Let her watch.”
In the quiet aftermath, vulnerability cracked Mathias’ usual control. His voice softened to a ghost of air against Carson’s sweat-damp skin. “I’ve never risked this before. Not like this. You undo me, beautiful one. What have I done to us?”
Carson held him tighter, and as Mathias kissed him, they shared the copper-tinged blood still on his tongue, the weight of the public claim settling deep into his bones. The high lingered, warm and addictive, but so did the terror of how completely he was already consumed by the human.
No, not a human. By Carson. I would gladly walk into the sunlight for him.
That was the moment Mathias marked the true beginning of who he and Carson would grow to be.
***
Zeke
Zeke lingered at the edge of the circle, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene with a quiet unease that had been building for weeks. He had spent the entire reaping guarding Mathias’ back, ensuring no one interrupted his sire’s union with the human who now lay sated and claimed beneath him. Carson. The name alone carried the weight of a sire’s soul mate, an ethereal link, a radical shift that threatened to reshape everything their small camp had carefully built.
He integrates too easily, Zeke thought, gaze drifting over the young man’s flushed skin and the way he clung to Mathias even in the aftermath. It unsettled him. Not with anger—he was not so foolish as to be terribly critical of his sire’s choices—but with a deep, gnawing anxiety. His own standing within the camp was shallow at best. Turned barely a hundred years ago, he held influence only through his genuine friendships with Mathias and Gina. Without them, he would be just another whelp struggling to find his place.
And now this. A human who walked among them as though he belonged.
Zeke’s stomach twisted with hunger, a familiar need gnawing at his insides. He had denied himself during the reaping to keep watch, and the denial was beginning to wear.
Gina approached, carrying a willing woman draped across her arms like an offering. The dam’s hair fell forwards as she stretched the woman’s neck invitingly, exposing the pulsing vein. “For you, Zeki,” she murmured, voice rich with praise. “You’ve been so steadfast tonight. Take what you need. Deeply. She is eager.”
Zeke leaned in, fangs lengthening, the scent of warm blood flooding his senses. He struck—but almost immediately pulled back with a sharp hiss. The woman’s heartbeat was thready, teetering on the cusp of collapse. Gina had taken too much.
Gina’s flood of praise faltered. “Zeke?”
For one terrible moment, fear spiked through him. Have I carelessly birthed another monster? Another thrall sliding towards ruin?
Gina scoffed softly, though there was no real heat in it. “You speak of understanding our role in the world, yet you pull back at the very cusp of passion.”
Zeke gently took the woman from Gina’s arms, balancing her minuscule weight against his chest. She was barely conscious, breath shallow. “You can’t keep doing that, my dam,” he said quietly, voice steady despite the hunger still raging inside him. “I am still too weak to be sure I can police my own appetite.”
Gina studied him for a long moment, then turned and walked away without another word, her dark hair swaying like a curtain across her back.
Zeke remained, holding the fragile human, the weight of change pressing heavier on his shoulders. Carson had brought light into their shadows—but light, he knew with a bone-deep understanding, could also burn.
***
Gina
Gina moved through the edges of the reaping like a shadow given purpose, though the familiar rituals brought her little comfort tonight. For weeks the Sun’s Call had grown louder in her mind—a jealous, honeyed mutter promising release from the endless nights. With Mathias so thoroughly distracted by his new play toy, the weight of guiding the camp pressed heavier on her shoulders. Perhaps this life was finally coming to its natural close. She was tired. So very tired.
A human man drifted into her path, already marked—twin pinpricks of blood glistened on the side of his neck, and another set marred the inside of his bicep. The scent of him wrapped around her senses, warm and willing. Before she could retreat, he stepped forwards and pulled her into a loose, delirious embrace, his arms draping heavily over her shoulders.
