The highest tower of Black Orchid Estate rose like a dark needle piercing the mist-shrouded sky. Narrow spiral stairs wound upward through ancient stone, lit only by flickering wall sconces that cast long, dancing shadows. Xuěyáo climbed them with Yè Júnhào close behind, his presence a steady, protective warmth at her back.
He had kept his promise.
After a day filled with intensified training—learning to mask her scent further, practicing defensive stances with the moonsteel dagger, and studying basic vampire lore from his private library—they had slipped away at midnight. No servants, no guards. Just the two of them.
At the top, he pushed open a heavy iron door that led onto a wide, open balcony encircled by ornate black railings shaped like twisting orchids. The mist here was thinner, allowing a rare glimpse of the Yānlín highlands under a canopy of stars. The night sky stretched endless above them, diamonds scattered across velvet black.
Xuěyáo stepped forward, breath catching. "It's beautiful…"
Yè Júnhào moved beside her, leaning against the railing. The wind tugged at his open black coat, revealing the crisp white shirt beneath. "I come here when the weight of centuries grows too heavy. The stars do not judge. They simply watch."
He turned to her, stormy eyes reflecting starlight. "And tonight, they watch you."
A soft flush colored her cheeks. She wore a simpler gown tonight—deep sapphire silk that hugged her figure and matched her striking blue eyes. Her raven hair flowed loose, stirred gently by the highland breeze.
They stood in comfortable silence for a while, shoulders brushing. Then Yè Júnhào spoke, voice low.
"The Council's summons is no idle request. The Crimson Spire is the heart of our kind's power. Thirteen ancients who have ruled for millennia. They fear change… and anything that disrupts the balance."
"Like me," Xuěyáo said quietly.
"Like us." He reached out, taking her hand and threading their fingers together. His skin was cool, but the touch sent warmth blooming through her. "Your scent has the potential to bind an immortal's soul. It did to me. If other vampires discover how deeply it affects me, they will see it as a weapon. Or a threat to be eliminated."
She squeezed his hand. "Then we show them it's neither. It's simply… us."
A faint smile touched his lips. "You speak as if eternity is already decided."
"Isn't it?" She stepped closer, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "You cleared my debts. You sent medicines for Grandmother. You hold me at night without taking what the beast demands. I see the man behind the predator, Júnhào. And I'm not running."
His free hand rose, cupping her cheek with heartbreaking gentleness. "You should. Any wise woman would."
"I've never been particularly wise," she whispered, a teasing spark in her blue eyes.
The air between them ignited.
Yè Júnhào pulled her against him, one arm banding around her waist while the other tangled in her hair. He kissed her slowly at first—deep, exploring, savoring. Then hunger built. His fangs grazed her lower lip, drawing the faintest bead of blood. He licked it away with a low groan, the taste sending visible shivers through his powerful frame.
"Xuěyáo…" he breathed against her mouth, voice strained. "You make me want to forget every vow I've made."
She slid her hands up his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart. "Then forget them for a moment."
He lifted her effortlessly, setting her on the wide stone ledge of the railing. The drop behind her was dizzying, but his arms locked around her like iron, keeping her safe. Their kisses grew heated, his cool lips trailing down her neck to the fading mark he had left. This time, he didn't stop at a graze.
His fangs sank in—slow, controlled, taking only a few precious drops.
Pleasure exploded through her veins like liquid fire. Xuěyáo gasped, back arching, fingers digging into his shoulders. The sensation was deeper than before—intimate, binding, addictive. He drank with reverence, not greed, then sealed the wounds with slow, soothing strokes of his tongue.
When he pulled back, his eyes were fully crimson, pupils blown wide. A thin trail of her blood stained his lower lip.
"You taste like salvation," he rasped.
She touched his face, thumb brushing the blood away before leaning in to kiss him again, tasting herself on his tongue. "And you feel like home."
For several long minutes they remained entwined beneath the stars, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling. The wind whispered around them, carrying the distant howl of highland wolves.
Yè Júnhào finally set her back on her feet, though his arms refused to release her completely.
"The conclave will test us," he warned softly. "They may demand I prove my strength by… rejecting you. Or worse."
"Then we prove something stronger," she replied, voice steady. "That love can exist even between predator and prey."
He searched her eyes for a long moment, then nodded. A rare, genuine smile—small but real—curved his lips.
"Stay with me tonight again," he said. "In my chamber this time. Let me hold you until dawn."
Xuěyáo smiled back, heart full. "I'd like that."
They descended the tower hand in hand, the stars above bearing silent witness.
As they walked the misty corridors back to the master's wing, neither noticed the faint shadow detaching from the garden wall far below—a lone Shadowfang spy who had slipped past the outer wards.
He had seen enough.
The Master was not merely attached.
He was falling.
And that information would fetch a high price at the Crimson Spire.