Chapter 2: the man from my dreams

My breath hitched.

I knew that face.

That same face had haunted my dreams for weeks, dark hair cascading over piercing blue eyes, sharp cheekbones that made him look almost too perfect, a smirk that oozed confidence and something far more dangerous. And yet, standing here, in the flesh, he felt even more overwhelming.

My mate.

The words rang in my head like a cruel joke. I wasn't supposed to have a mate. I had been ridiculed for years, whispered about in the halls of this wretched castle. A disgrace, they called me, not just because I was the granddaughter of the exiled vampire king, but because I had never sensed a mate. Most vampire nobles found their mates within the first few decades of life, some even earlier. But me? I had gone years without a single connection, a single pull to another soul. It had only made my humiliation worse, another reason for them to treat me like I was nothing.

And yet, now, when I had finally found him, he was the last person I could ever hope for.

The stranger's blue eyes flickered with amusement as he watched me, as if he could sense the chaos in my mind. His lips curled into a smirk, and I felt my whole body tense.

This wasn't happening.

"Blair," Lady Morgana's voice snapped me out of my daze. I turned, meeting her sharp, venomous glare. "Leave. Now."

I hesitated, my eyes flickering back to the man.

He raised a brow, almost mockingly. "Wait," he said, his voice smooth like silk yet carrying an edge of command. "Let her stay."

Morgana stiffened at his words, and for the first time, I noticed something peculiar, her absolute hatred toward him. The way her lips curled, the way her fingers twitched as if she wanted to claw his face off. It wasn't just dislike. It was deeper than that.

The man, whoever he was, had power here.

But why?

I should have walked away. The smartest thing to do was obey Morgana, avoid drawing any more attention to myself. But I was frozen. My legs refused to move, my mind refusing to function properly. The way he looked at me, the way the bond tugged at my very soul, it left me in turmoil.

He smirked at my hesitation.

He knew.

He knew what he was to me.

But before I could react, a deep, authoritative voice filled the air.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The moment King Draco walked in, the air shifted. His presence alone was enough to make everyone straighten, his crimson gaze sweeping the courtyard with silent demand. And behind him, trailing just a step behind, was Skye. The prince. The heir.

My second worst nightmare.

Skye's gaze fell on me first, as it always did. His dark, stormy eyes narrowing, taking in my presence like it was an insult that I was still breathing. Then he turned to the man standing at the center of the commotion. His lips curled, though I wasn't sure if it was out of amusement or disgust.

"What are you doing here?" Draco's voice rumbled with authority.

The man turned, facing the king with an air of mockery, as if this entire thing was a game to him. He let out a slow, deliberate chuckle before finally speaking the words that sent ice through my veins.

"Well," he said, dragging out the syllable as if he were savoring the moment. His blue eyes gleamed under the moonlight, and then—

"I'm home, father."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Father.

The word alone explained everything.

I didn't need anyone to confirm it. I could feel the tension, the way the air seemed to crackle with unspoken rage, the way Morgana's entire body went rigid.

He was Draco's son.

But not just any son, he was the one that shouldn't exist.

A bastard.

And now, suddenly, everything made sense. Morgana's hatred, the hostility, the tension in the air. She had spent decades securing her place as queen, making sure her son, Skye, was next in line for the throne. And now, standing before her, was living proof that Draco had another son. One who, under the right circumstances, could be a threat to everything she had built.

A threat to Skye.

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling at my sides.

This was bad.

Really bad.

And yet, despite the storm raging around us, the bastard prince only grinned wider, his gaze flickering toward me as if to say…

This is only the beginning.