I’ve never spent hours kissing anyone, but they pass quickly wrapped in Cyrus’ arms.

He takes things slow. It seems to be enough for him, the touches and our lips fusing together as one. He never pressures me for anything more. And Sevan stays in the back of my head, quiet and dark.

Together, just Logan and Cyrus, we have a perfect day.

But as the night begins to fall outside, I feel the call. The hunger.

Together, Cyrus and I leave the castle. We slip across the valley. And then with incredible speed, we race through the canyon, to where we know the next town is.

It’s incredibly easy. There are only a hundred or so humans that live in this little village. But silently, we break into a home, and we drink.

The woman’s eyes flash open for just a moment, but paralyzed by my toxins, they slip closed once more.

I suck and pull, looking at Cyrus, who drinks from the man lying beside this woman in bed.

We drink our fill, and when we are full and when I can feel the amount I’ve taken from her, we leave them be, sleeping it off in their beds, to only awake thinking they’ve had a nightmare.

Together, we make our way back to the castle, avoiding the encampment of the army that holds the people of the town captive.

Walking through the doors of the castle in the dead of night, my thirst is sated, but my stomach growls with hunger.

“Come on,” I say, reaching for Cyrus’ hand with a smile. “I’m starving. I’ll make us some dinner.”

“I thought you couldn’t cook?” he questions with a smirk and the upward tilt of his eyebrow.

I shrug. “It’s a day for miracles.”

I’m sure Cyrus has never been in this kitchen in its current form. It’s huge and gleaming with stainless steel. Every gadget possible is tucked here and there, organized to obsession. A huge walk-in refrigerator and freezer sit side by side.

Thoughtfully, I gather ingredients, and I realize, they’re all going to go bad within a week with all the help locked up. Better get to cooking.

Together, Cyrus and I make fettuccini Alfredo. When we’re finished, we slip into the room next to the kitchen. It’s the workers’ dining room. There’s a roughly hewn wooden table, massively long. It could probably seat twenty people.

But just us, Cyrus and I sit, looking at each other from across the table as we eat the meal that I only burned a little bit.

“You have to have a lot of questions about what’s going on outside,” I say, swallowing a bite.

Instantly, Cyrus’ eyes darken and his relaxed demeanor falls.

My Logan-esque hardness forms, prepared to have to defend my decisions and actions. And I’m grateful for Sevan there, at my side, who is so confident that this is the right move.

“There are rumors and conformations manifested that Born and Royals alike are trying to take us out,” I say. “There were those who came after us—me, in Greendale. They were going to use me to make you step away from the throne. They told me that there was insurrection brewing in Court. And then there was what happened to you.”

My eyes slide down to his neck. There isn’t even a scar now, but I’ll never forget the bloody sight of his head detached from the rest of his body.

“I interrogated the man who did it,” I move on. “He snuck over the border. Considering no one sounded the alarm, that he got into the castle silently, I have to think at least one Royal was helping him. And he said something about having no choice but to trust a Royal, if he wanted change.”

Cyrus grits his teeth hard, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m trying to take care of this, but there are so few I trust. Larkin is on assignment. But that only leaves me with Alivia, Ian, and Eshan.”

At the mention of Alivia’s name, Cyrus’ eyes flare just a little.

“Yes,” I say, sounding annoyed. “She’s here. She’s helping me. Get over it.”

He gives me a little glare, so I immediately move on.

“The man is dead now, but he confessed that there were five others in Roter Himmel who were in on this, too. Two are dead already. But as for any of the Royals who were in on it…” I take another bite, slowly chewing, as everything overwhelms me once more. “We did an initial interrogation and ended up with six I intended to question further.”

Cyrus watches me, listening. But he seems uneasy.

“But I knew it wasn’t near enough. People can be two-faced liars. So I took a page out of your book.” I look up at him, and at my words, his eyes widen a bit. “I needed to make them afraid for their very lives.”

“All that out there is staged,” Cyrus concludes.

I nod.

“Dorian and Malachi helped me orchestrate it all,” I continue. “They loaned me their private human armies and we made them look like the Austrian government. They’ve all been placed under arrest for killing humans over the years.”

“They are going to interrogate Court and try to get them to confess what we are,” Cyrus says, sitting back, observing me. I see a twinkle of pride and admiration in his eyes.

I nod. “Anyone who confesses to being a vampire will be shipped off to the Houses around the world, where they can deal with them. They’ll never be allowed back at Court. And they’ll get a hard, life-long lesson in appreciation for what they had here in Court.”

Cyrus nods, but there’s still that far away look in his eyes.

“In the end, Court will be severely downsized, but any traitors will be rooted out because they will fear for their lives.”

I study Cyrus, now that he’s been brought up to speed. He studies the wall behind me, his eyes a bit glazed over.

“These are going to be some dark, tumultuous days in the weeks to come,” I say, my voice low and soft. “But in the end, we need to know who we can and cannot trust. Above all, we have to protect our secret.”

His eyes slide back over to me when I speak the words he’s repeated hundreds of times over the years.

“It’s remarkable,” he says. But his voice is hollow. “You’ve done well.”

I’m trying to read him, because I know it’s there under the surface. But he doesn’t say anything more.

Finished eating, I slide my plate away from me.

“Come on,” I say as I stand. “Let’s go somewhere.”

Thirty minutes later, we’re both dressed and ready for a day out. Down through the belly of the castle we drop and finally walk out into a huge, cavernous garage. There are dozens of vehicles inside, all in varying degrees of expense and color.

“Think you remember those driving lessons?” I tease him as he opens the door to a very aggressive looking black sports car for me.

“I think I’ll manage,” Cyrus says, giving me a coy smile. He slips into the driver’s seat and the engine purrs to life.

He looks over at me, giving a smirk, and guns the gas.

We rocket through the tunnel that cuts under the castle, and suddenly shoot out into the brilliant sun, with our sunshades securely in place.

It’s a trick, navigating through town in the most inconspicuous way. We go down side roads, and even drive over the uneven grass, all to skirt as far around the invaded village as we can. But eventually, we hit the main road at the far side of the lake, and head for the canyon.

It’s nearly a two-hour drive from Roter Himmel to the next major town. There are still questions I want to ask, like if Cyrus really was dead during the last week, or if it was just more of a hibernation. But the mood is light. The sun is shining. And Cyrus is holding my hand with the top down on the car.

So I just smile and squeal as he punches the gas.

Cyrus easily navigates us to the center of the city and parks along the curb, putting money in the meter.

“Remind me what we’re doing here?” Cyrus asks as I take his hand, tugging him down the sidewalk and toward the first shops. “Out among humans when we’ve just gone through everything we’ve been through?”

I look over my shoulder at him, glaring. “We’re here exactly because of everything we’ve been through lately, Cyrus. I’ve been holding an entire kingdom together, planning a coup, on my own, while you took a damn long nap. A girl needs a little break every now and then.”

He smiles, and oh my hell, it’s just so damn beautiful. I just have to stop right in my tracks, put my hand on his cheek, and kiss him until we get glares from an old woman walking past us.

I’m feeling like myself—Logan—again. I know it when the salty curse words start slipping out my lips and through my mind.

“Come on,” I say, stepping away from Cyrus and pulling him toward a boutique shop.

Cyrus follows closely behind me as I sort through each rack. His hand darts out every now and then, just resting on my hip, or he tucks himself behind me, hugging me tight to his front, and presses his lips to the back of my neck.

I’m such a teenager today.

Because all I can do is smile, occasionally a silly little giggle slips past my lips. I reach up, cupping my hand behind his neck, and pull his lips down to my own.

“How about this?” Cyrus says at one shop, one of dozens.

He grabs a scanty little bikini from off the rack, dangling it temptingly in front of me with a lustful gleam in his eyes.

I give an approving hmm, raising an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think there’s anything quite like this in our closet.”

He gives me an approving smile as I put the scanty swimsuit into my bag, along with the other items.

I really wasn’t planning on buying this much. There were a few things for me in the closet at the castle. I could have gotten by with just a few additions.

But Cyrus keeps encouraging me to buy anything I look at for more than two seconds. With each shop we go to, his arms get loaded with more and more shopping bags.

He just looks so damn happy though.

“Are you trying to spoil me totally rotten?” I ask when we step out of another shop, another two bags added to the collection.

“After everything you’ve endured, you deserve to be pampered,” he says with a gleam in his eye. “You’ve faced identity theft, robbery, a money shark, and horrible ramifications from him in the last short span of your life, Logan.” He steps closer, looking down at me with intense eyes. “Let me spoil you.”

I can’t help but smile, rising up onto my toes, and pressing my lips to his.

The reminder of the sad story that is my luck in my human life flashes something else into my brain.

“Oh!” I declare, my hand darting into my back pocket for my phone. “We promised Amelia pictures of our time in Austria. Come here!” I grab Cyrus by the front of his shirt, pulling him into me.

Extending my arm with the camera turned to us, I snap a picture of our smiling faces. And then I turn my face to his, and as his lips immediately find mine, I snap another.

“I have a feeling we’ll be finding a house outside of Roter Himmel at some point so that we can invite your friend for a visit,” Cyrus says as he watches me text the pictures to Amelia. “I think she’s going to be incredibly disappointed when you don’t return home after your year studying abroad.”

“Or we can always make a trip back to visit,” I say with a smile. Once more I take Cyrus’ hand, dragging him down the street, back to our car.

We ditch the shopping bags, and spotting a fancy restaurant across the street, I pull Cyrus along with me.

We spend the entire day in the city. We probably drop over a thousand euros. It’s more money than I would have spent on myself in five years back in Greendale.

But when I see how happy Cyrus looks to be doing this, I know this shopping spree was more for him than it was for me.

This is about bonding. Connecting. It’s about being normal.

It’s getting dark when we get back in the car and Cyrus points us back in the direction of Roter Himmel.

I lean my head back on the headrest, watching the beautiful scenery go by as we roll down the road.

Cyrus holds my hand as we weave through the canyon. The road grows narrower, abandoned.

When we crest the mountain, he slows.

Lanterns dot the land before us. Vaguely I can see the homes and buildings. Mostly the tents set up all over the place. And above it all, looms our home. The castle.

Cyrus drives once more. But there is a fork, where the road splits to the left to return to home, Cyrus turns right, onto a dirt road that looks as if it hasn’t been traveled in a while.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he says gently, but there’s an excited gleam in his eye.

The road hugs the mountain tightly. Potholes threaten to bottom us out here and there, but Cyrus goes slow, navigating the rough terrain. At one point, for at least a mile, we’re sandwiched between the mountainside, and the lake. If we veer slightly left or right, we’d flip, or end up in the water.

The trees grow thick around us, and finally, Cyrus loops the car around a lagoon that settles into the side of the mountain, parking the car on a patch of grass.

There’s a gleam of mischief in his eye as he climbs out into the dark night.

I hop out, and watch with a raised eyebrow as he digs through the bags in the trunk. He comes up, holding the swimsuit he bought for himself, and the bikini.

“Care for a dip?”

I laugh at the ridiculous smile on his face and the suggestion. I feel myself blush, but I bite my lower lip, nodding.

I snatch the small bits of fabric from his hand, and tromp off into the trees.

The night is still very warm. Even though we’re up in the mountains, it is mid-August. The last surge of summer. I don’t even get goosebumps when I step out from the trees, in only the tiny swimsuit that barely covers my boobs and definitely was made to show off this much of my ass.

But I feel myself flush when I spot Cyrus crouched in a tree just at the water’s edge. No shirt, in the moonlight, it’s a spectacular view. And that look in his eye could melt me clean through the middle of the earth.

“By the god of the moon, you will be the death of me, woman,” he breathes, shaking his head with a lustful gaze.

I smile, blushing.

With an elegant leap, Cyrus launches himself into the air, bending in a perfect arc, before cannonballing into the water.

I scream, skirting away from the water’s edge when the water splashes.

Cyrus surfaces, flicking his wet hair out of his face. He wears a broad smile. “Come on!”

I go to the water’s edge where the grassy land drops down into the water. Carefully, I stretch one leg down, dipping my toe in the water.

“It’s freezing!” I protest.

“You’re an immortal vampire capable of ripping the face clean off of the best soldier, and you’re afraid of a little cold water?” he taunts me. With a wicked glint in his eye, he sends a wave of water splashing in my direction.

“Oh, you are so dead now!” I scream. I take three steps back, before running and launching myself into the air. With a wicked laugh, I splash into the water, right beside Cyrus.

When I surface, I reach up, placing both of my hands on top of his head, and shove him down under the water. He grabs me around the waist as he sinks, and drags me down with him.

Down here in the water, it’s dark. But the moon cuts through the rippling surface, making everything look mystical and magical.

Face to face, I look at Cyrus through the water.

His hair floats around him and his skin glows an eerie blue.

He looks supernatural.

I reach out, putting a hand behind his neck. I pull myself to him, our skin feeling cold in the water when it connects.

Slowly, we rise to the surface, and water trails down our faces.

But I stare at him in the moon. His eyes. That strong nose. And those lips.

“I’ve never seen lips I love more than yours,” I confess without even thinking. But instead of feeling embarrassed, I brush my thumb over them. They part, breathing warm air on my own lips.

Cyrus’ hands come to my hips, pulling me in close. I raise my legs in the water, wrapping them around his waist.

I feel so alive.

So electric.

So present.

“Kiss me,” I command.

Cyrus happily obliges.

He sucks my soul from me, stealing it. Claiming it as his own. And I draw in his. I feel him, filling every part of me, until I can’t identify what parts are me and what parts are him.

I cling to Cyrus, letting him run his hands over me. I grip his bare skin greedily, hungry for more, but filled to the brim.

I never want this day to end. It’s been perfect. Normal. And I can feel it. It’s just me and Cyrus here. Just Logan. None of this day has Cyrus been reaching for Sevan. He hasn’t kissed her once this day.

Cyrus is mine.