Zavier walked through the thick London fog, his feet barely even touching the pavement. Elena was already safe inside her place. He'd made sure of it—shadow seals were tucked into every corner of that apartment, ready to rip apart anyone who tried to break in.
Once he knew she was safe, Zavier ducked into a pitch-black alley. He didn't need a door or a key; he just stopped holding back.
The shadows at his feet surged up, swallowing him whole. In a split second, the chilly London air turned into a soul-crushing frost. The smell of coffee and Elena's vanilla perfume was gone, replaced by the stench of sulfur, old dust, and death.
Zavier opened his eyes. He wasn't in London anymore. He was standing in a massive hall held up by the blackened bones of ancient dragons. The ceiling was just an endless void with flashes of purple lightning. This was Erebos—the shadow dimension he'd been running for thousands of years.
"Welcome back, My Sire," a deep, gravelly voice echoed.
Zavier didn't even look. He kept walking, his long black cloak appearing out of nowhere and dragging across the shiny obsidian floor. At the end of the hall sat a throne made of dark crystal. Standing next to it was a tall guy in scuffed silver armor with faint red eyes. That was Lucius—his top general, and the biggest pain in his neck when it came to Zavier's "trips" to the human world.
"You're getting brave, Lucius," Zavier said, his voice changing. The casual "hot photographer" vibe was gone. His voice was heavy now, vibrating through the floor. "Messaging me while I'm... busy."
Lucius dropped to one knee immediately. "My apologies, My Sire. But things are getting messy here. The shadow lords are talking. They're saying the King's gone soft because he's falling for a fragile human."
Zavier sat on his throne, leaning his head on his hand. He gave Lucius a look that could kill.
"Soft? You want me to show you who's soft? I could turn this entire army into dust with a snap of my fingers, Lucius."
"I know your power, My Sire. But that girl... she's just a distraction. She'll be dead in a heartbeat compared to us. Why are you wasting time on her dad's debts, her idiot boss, or finding her a place to live?" Lucius looked up, sounding genuinely worried. "Erebos needs its King. Not a freelance photographer."
Zavier didn't say anything. He thought about Elena laughing over pizza earlier. How she turned red when he teased her. You didn't get that in Erebos. Here, it was just betrayal, war, and a silence that made you want to scream.
"Elena's none of your business. And she's not a distraction. She's an... experiment," Zavier lied. No way he was admitting he was actually catching feelings.
"An experiment? One that almost had you kissing her under a tree?" Lucius let out a dry, almost rude snort. "Word's already reached the Void. They're planning something. They know you have a weak spot now."
Zavier gripped the armrest so hard the crystal cracked. Dark smoke poured off him, filling the hall until the guards at the door hit the deck in fear.
"Nobody calls her a weak spot," Zavier hissed. "If anyone touches her, I'll personally drag them to the bottom of the Void for eternal torture. Got it?"
Lucius bowed even lower. He knew when to shut up. "Understood, My Sire. But at least show up at the border tomorrow. The rebels are starting to slip through the cracks."
Zavier sighed, looking totally bored. "Fine. Tomorrow morning, I'll hit the border. I'll clear them out, then I'm going back to London."
"But My Sire—"
"No 'buts.' I need to get back. Elena's new place doesn't have proper curtains yet. I have to make sure she doesn't pick a weird color," Zavier said, sounding dead serious.
Lucius wanted to face-palm so bad, but he liked being alive. "Curtains? You're worried about home decor while we're on the edge of a war?"
"The human world is complicated, Lucius. You wouldn't understand. Now, get out." Zavier waved him off.
When everyone left, the hall went quiet again. Zavier leaned back, missing the smell of vanilla. Here, it just smelled like death and monster sweat. He pulled something out from under his cloak—a small hair clip Elena had dropped earlier. He looked at it like it was the most expensive thing in the world.
"I'm losing it," Zavier muttered with a tiny smile.
He closed his eyes for a second, looking through the shadows he'd left at Elena's. He could see her crashed out on the sofa, hair everywhere, hugging a pillow. She looked so peaceful, so far away from all this.
Zavier felt a pang in his chest. Lucius was right about one thing: Elena was an easy target. His world was full of monsters. If they found out the King had a favorite human, they'd use her to break him.
"I'll protect you, Elena. Even if I have to be a real demon to do it," he whispered to the clip.
Suddenly, a shadow in the corner twitched. Zavier was on high alert instantly. Someone was in his palace. Someone uninvited.
"Come out, coward," Zavier barked.
A skinny, gray-skinned creature with glowing yellow eyes crawled out of the dark. A Seeker—a spy from the Void.
"Hehe... the great King... so the rumors are true... you're into fresh meat," the creature rasped.
Zavier didn't waste his breath. He flicked a finger, and jagged shadow spikes shot out of the floor, impaling the Seeker. The thing screamed, but Zavier wasn't done. He walked over slowly, looking the dying creature in the eye.
"Tell your boss in the Void: if he even looks at the human world again, I'll wipe his entire dimension off the map. You hear me?"
The creature didn't get to answer. Zavier crushed its head into black dust. He stood up, shaking off his hands. He was fuming. If the Void already knew, he couldn't keep hiding. He had to make Elena stronger, or lock her away. But she wasn't a pet—she had a mind of her own.
"I need a plan," he muttered.
He decided to head back to London early. Forget the rebels—Lucius could handle it. Elena was what mattered.
He closed his eyes, locked onto her apartment's coordinates, and in a flash, Erebos was gone.
***
Zavier popped back up on Elena's balcony. The cold London wind felt great. He slipped through the locked glass door (shadow travel is handy like that). Everything inside was quiet.
He walked over to the sofa. She looked so innocent sleeping there. He reached out to brush her hair back but stopped. His hands were freezing. He didn't want to wake her up.
"You're a lot of work, Elena," he whispered, fixing the blanket that was slipping off her.
He sat on the floor next to her. He didn't need sleep, so he'd just stay there until morning. He started thinking about how to tell her the truth without scaring her to death. Or maybe he shouldn't tell her? Just let her believe he's some mysterious photographer.
But he knew a secret this big wouldn't stay buried forever. Not with the Void starting to move.
"I'm gonna make you a Queen, Elena. Whether you're ready or not," Zavier whispered before closing his eyes—not to sleep, but to keep watch.
That night, in the middle of busy London, a King was guarding an ordinary girl. The world might be going to hell, but for Zavier, as long as Elena was safe, everything else could wait.