79

Ian’s POV

The weight of the realm settled over me the moment I crossed its threshold, the air heavy with the scent of ancient stone and the faint, lingering traces of magic. This place was a constant reminder of who I was and what I had to uphold. The title of King wasn’t something I wore lightly, and every time I returned, it was like donning a mantle that grew heavier with each passimg day.

Today, though, the weight was almost unbearable. The council had been relentless in their demands, and I knew what awaited me in the chamber—more of the same questions, the same insistence, the same push for something I refused to give them.

Sophia.

As I walked through the corridors, the familiar architecture surrounded me—tall, imposing columns, tapestries woven with the history of our kind, and torches that flickered with an eternal flame. The walls seemed to hum with the whispers of those who had come before, a constant reminder of the tradition and power that had shaped this place.

It should have felt comforting. Instead, it only heightened my frustration.

The council chamber was exactly as I’d left it—dark, grand, and oppressive. The long table in the center was surrounded by high-backed chairs, each occupied by a member of the council, their expressions varying from stern to outright hostile as I approached. They were all there—Armand, with his cold, calculating gaze; Lucius, his lips pressed into a thin line; and Selene, the only one who ever showed a glimmer of empathy, though even she had grown weary of the issue at hand.

I took my seat at the head of the table, the chair reserved for the king, and let the silence stretch, my gaze sweeping over each of them. They waited, as they always did, for me to speak first. But I knew what they wanted, and I had no intention of giving it to them.

Finally, Armand broke the silence, his voice sharp and cutting. “We’ve been patient, Ian, but our patience is wearing thin. Where is the girl?”

His tone was biting, but it was his use of the word “girl” that irritated me. As if Sophia were nothing more than a curiosity, a specimen to be examined and judged. My jaw tightened, but I kept my voice level. “Sophia is not your concern.”

Lucius leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Not our concern? She was turned against her will, by your hand no less—or, rather, by your failure to control those under your influence. She is very much our concern.”

“She is my responsibility,” I corrected, my tone leaving no room for argument. “And I will not be bringing her here.”

Selene’s voice was softer, though it carried the same insistence as the others. “You’ve broken many rules for her, Ian. Risked much. The council has a right to understand why.”

I knew what she was really saying—what they all were. They wanted to see the woman who had caused me to defy centuries of tradition and law, the one who had made me break every rule in the book. They wanted to see for themselves why I had risked everything for her.

But I wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction.

“Sophia’s existence does not need to be justified to any of you,” I said, my voice cold. “She is under my protection, and I will not subject her to your scrutiny.”

Armand’s lips curled into a sneer. “You’re protecting her from us? How noble. But you forget, Ian, that the council is not so easily dismissed. We demand to see her.”

“You demand nothing,” I shot back, the calm façade I’d been holding onto slipping for just a moment. “You may advise, you may counsel, but you do not command me.”

Armand’s eyes narrowed further, Lucius leaned back in his chair as if considering his next move, and Selene’s expression turned more concerned. But none of them dared to speak again immediately.

They knew the limits of their power, just as I knew mine.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to regain control. This wasn’t just about them; it was about what was best for Sophia. She had been through enough—being turned against her will, losing the life she had known, and adjusting to the darkness that came with being one of us. The last thing she needed was to be paraded before a group of vampires who would see her as nothing more than a tool to manipulate me or a curiosity to be dissected.

“She’s adjusting,” I said, my voice more measured now. “It’s not an easy process, as you all know. Bringing her here would only complicate things.”

Lucius gave a slight nod, as if considering my words, but Armand wasn’t so easily swayed. “We don’t need to coddle her. She needs to understand the consequences of her existence, just as we need to understand why you’ve gone to such lengths for her.”

I met his gaze head-on, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. “She’s already lived those consequences. I won’t put her through more, especially not for your curiosity.”

Selene leaned forward slightly, her voice a mix of genuine concern and the council’s persistent need for control. “Ian, we don’t doubt that you care for her, but you must understand our position. We’ve always had rules for a reason—rules that even kings must follow. What you’ve done sets a dangerous precedent.”

I could see where she was going with this, and it infuriated me. They weren’t just concerned about Sophia; they were worried about the precedent it set—about what it meant for the future, for their power. If I could break the rules for her, what did that say about their authority?

“Is that what this is about?” I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Your precious rules?”

Lucius spoke up then, his tone diplomatic but firm. “It’s about maintaining order. About ensuring that what we’ve built doesn’t fall apart because of one individual’s actions—no matter how justified you may believe those actions to be.”

I shook my head, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “You speak of order, but what you really mean is control. You want to control her, to control me. But that’s not going to happen.”

The room fell silent again, the tension now so thick it was almost suffocating. They knew as well as I did that this was a power struggle, one that had been brewing ever since Sophia had been turned. But I wasn’t going to give them the upper hand. I’d already risked everything for her—I wasn’t about to hand her over to them on a silver platter.

Finally, Armand spoke, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Ian. One that could have far-reaching consequences.”

“Maybe,” I replied, my tone equally dangerous. “But it’s a game I’m willing to play.”

Selene sighed, a weary sound that seemed to echo in the chamber. “Ian, we don’t want this to become a battle. But you must understand—if you continue to defy the council, there will be repercussions.”

I stood then, the chair scraping against the stone floor as I pushed it back. I was done with this conversation, done with their veiled threats and thinly disguised attempts to control me. They could talk of repercussions all they wanted—none of it mattered. My mind was made up.

“You can talk of repercussions all you like,” I said, my voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “But know this—I will not bring Sophia here, until she asks to come here, and I will not hear any more on this matter. If you have other concerns, bring them to me. But this discussion is over.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and left the chamber, my footsteps echoing through the hall as I walked away from the council and their demands.

The corridor felt even more oppressive than before, the air heavy with the weight of what had just happened. But there was a certain clarity that came with it too—a resolve that hardened in my chest. I would protect Sophia from them, from anyone who sought to harm her or use her as a pawn in their political games.

As I stepped into the courtyard, the cold night air hit my face. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale light over the ancient stone walls of the realm. I paused, taking in the sight—this place that had been my home for so long, the seat of my power, the source of my strength.

But now, it was also a place of danger—a place where those I trusted most were willing to challenge me, to push me to my limits. And all because of Sophia.

I felt a familiar pang in my chest at the thought of her—at the thought of everything she had endured, and everything she still had to face. She didn’t deserve any of this, and yet, because of me, she was thrust into a world of darkness and danger. But I would do everything in my power to protect her, to keep her safe from those who would seek to exploit her.

Even if it meant standing against the council.