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At long last, Mikaela Hyakuya was returning home.
Not the daunting labyrinth of manors, pipelines, and aqueducts that comprised the underground vampire city, where the scent of human blood plagued the streets and relentlessly tortured his appetite.
A tyranny, one that reduced humans to livestock and subjected mere children to starvation, violence, and death.
Nor in the palace of Krul Tepes, its reigning queen, who robbed him of his humanity and forced him into the role of her ‘son,’ her prince.
It was his last remaining family, Yuichiro Hyakuya, whose company he considered his permanent residence, and his was an enduring homesickness.
Today had been especially torturous. The queen had kept him by her side through wearisome acts of diplomacy with the other progenitors, never to contribute, but to be held on display. Despite the sky being replaced with the dark earth above, he knew when nighttime fell by his constant journeys to the surface.
When Yuichiro would await his presence.
That his personal guards weren’t present once the queen relinquished him was nothing short of a relief. They’d been absent all day, herding livestock from Nagoya to bestow to the nobles.
At any hour, however, they could return.
He didn’t have a second to lose.
From the depths of the supply quarters, beneath one of Krul’s many estates, Mikaela stole the garb of the lower-ranked vampires. Stocky and dim compared to his usual attire, it concealed his frame and melded him with those who patrolled the streets. To pull over his hood, casting his face in the shadows, was all he needed to avoid the scrutiny of his subjects. Conceited and distant, no bloodsucker ever said a word to him, even when he left for the underground tunnels.
Ever since his first attempt at escaping the bowels of Sanguinem, the path to the surface was burned into his memory. The map he’d stolen between the pages of an old tome, what he believed to be a beacon of hope, had led his family to an early grave. If he closed his eyes, he could still see them: Akane’s tender scolding, the kids’ toothy grins as he displayed his latest treasures from Ferid’s manor, and Yuichiro promising to beat up the vampires and build a human world.
All of it destroyed by his hands.
A long flight of steps led him to Sanguinem’s exit, long-since clear of his family’s bodies and blood on the tile washed clean. Moonlight flowed through the high ceiling and brightened the chaotic exuberance of the archway.
Cautionary glances over his shoulder revealed nothing. Not a soul accompanied him but his shadow, and only his footsteps echoed about the corridor.
His horrible, crushing solitude was about to end.
Of all the children who could’ve managed to break free, the one he wanted to most existed on the other side.
There was no getting rid of the chains that tethered him to the underground city, but soon he would meet his relief, the one who made his unbearable life worth living.
As he crossed the exit, a child Yuichiro ran up the steps beside him in his mind’s eye, and a mix of anguish and relief rippled through him all over again.
He reached a tunnel of stone, with tree roots intertwined with the walls and a feeble set of lights trailing his way. He didn’t need them, for his vampiric eyes rendered shades of light and dark distinguishable with superior clarity, but it must have been frightening for a child.
On the surface, a white winter had come, with thick-lying, crunching snow blanketing the cliff on which he stood, the trees, and the various roofs of the city below, the crisp hoarfrost sparkling beneath the light of the moon. The occasional, frosty gusts felt dull against his skin, rather than the sting afforded to fresh, human faces. Flakes silver and lurid drifted along his line of sight, their crystalline structures ever-unique.
None of this beauty moved him, however.
Only one interest transcended his thirst for blood.
He moved closer to the cliff’s edge, to the makeshift fence rising just above his ankles. Somewhere in the stillness of the city, where plumes of smoke rose from the chimneys, Yuichiro lingered.
He closed his eyes, focused on the memory of his face, his voice, his blood…
‘Hone your senses… search for him—’
“Mika!”
A sudden pair of arms wrapped around Mikaela from behind. The utterance of his childhood nickname in an endearing voice, coupled with the dangerously alluring scent of his blood, exposed his ‘assailant’ at once.
“Yu-chan!?”
His home.
“Surprise!”
Mikaela freed himself from Yuichiro’s embrace, despite the childish delight filling his heart, and squeezed his shoulders. His smile alone evoked the sensation of being embraced, but it wasn’t enough to stave off Mikaela’s anger.
“What the hell were you thinking!? We’re too close to Sanguinem!”
Undeterred by a vampire’s resistance to the weather, Yuichiro warmed Mikaela’s bare hands between his mittens.
“Come on, Mika! Don’t be mad!” he pleaded, his breath condensing in the frigid air. “I got tired of waiting! And I still remembered how to get here! Isn’t that cool?”
Unmoved by this feat, Mikaela whispered, “That wasn’t smart! Anyone could’ve followed you! What if I was followed!? If somebody hears us—!”
The soft wool of Yuichiro’s gloves warmed the sides of Mikaela’s face. Beneath the fabric, he could feel his fingers caressing his skin.
Pain, temperature, it was true such sensations had dulled significantly for him.
But Yuichiro’s warmth never changed.
“We’ll be fine! I’ll take down any bloodsucker that gives you trouble!”
Lowering his hands, Mikaela dragged Yuichiro from Sanguinem’s exit by the wrist. Heavy clouds sagged over the earth, swollen with impending snow and masking the light of the moon.
By night’s end, the traces of their footsteps would be erased.
“Uh huh. With what power?”
“Easy!” Yuichiro flexed his free arm. “I’ve been doing tons of push-ups lately!”
“Be serious.”
“I am!”
Yuichiro anchored his feet into the snow and jerked Mikaela backward. After an elongated exhale and a roll of his eyes, he turned toward Yuichiro once more.
“Yu-chan, we have to keep going.”
He received no reply. A brief lull of Yuichiro’s creation fell between them, about two heartbeats long, during which he surveyed Mikaela from head to toe. The moment the latter parted his lips, Yuichiro pushed back his hood and exposed him to the elements.
“Hey—!”
Stealing his words, Yuichiro plunged his hand into the depths of Mikaela’s locks and took to massaging his ear.
“Wh-What’re you doing—!?” he asked, crimson up to the ear enveloped in wool.
Yuichiro’s features remained stern.
“One day, I’m going to rescue you, Mika.”
This again.
Such an assurance had become routine in their secret meetings. Yuichiro wouldn’t let a single night pass without saying it.
Mikaela leaned into his touch. “Yu-chan…”
“I have to. You’re a vampire because of me.”
His sigh didn’t form a small cloud of condensation like Yuichiro’s.
“I already told you that wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was. I left you behind.”
Yuichiro drew nearer, so close the tips of their shoes touched.
“I promise… I’ll find a way to change you back.”
“Stop that.” Mikaela swatted his hand away. “I’m just happy you’re safe.”
“Mika—!”
“Don’t you get it!?”
Through an inexplicable rush of affection and regret for his outburst, he pulled Yuichiro into an embrace.
“I’m being selfish as is just by seeing you. I won’t put you in any more danger.”
Chest to chest, Mikaela adored the rise and fall of Yuichiro’s against the stillness of his own. It grounded him, soothed him more than the arm around his waist.
“But…” Yuichiro paused. “If we ran away together—”
“The progenitors would come after ‘Prince Mikaela of Sanguinem.’ After you. There’s nowhere to run.”
The scent of his blood was etched into the memories of the queen, her aide, and his guards.
They’d track him with ease.
Whatever punishment awaited the human who dared take the prince away was an ever-present threat in the back of his mind.
As much as he also dreamed of escaping, far off into the countryside where they might achieve a modicum of peace—
“Still! We can’t give up! There has to be a way to—”
“Yu-chan!”
Mikaela pulled back from their embrace, brushed the flurries dusting Yuichiro’s hair and shoulders away. His nose had the slightest flush, and in his eyes lived a glimmer of irritation Mikaela hoped he could quell.
“This… being here with you… is all I need.”
It wouldn’t do anything, his hands were bereft of any warmth, yet he enclosed them around Yuichiro’s.
“We can’t get too greedy. There are monsters lurking out there that feed off that desperation. They’ll use you.”
“So what!? If it meant I had the power to rescue you—”
“Don’t say that!”
He unraveled Yuichiro’s scarf, then unfastened the top buttons of his overcoat, exposing his neck to the winter chill.
“As long as I get to see you, I can withstand anything.”
He nuzzled into his shoulder, pressed his lips against bite marks that had yet to heal.
“D-Do you want blood?” Yuichiro asked softly.
“No. Not here.”
Mikaela’s arms entwined around Yuichiro, abandoning himself eagerly to the close scent of his blood.
“… Can I stay like this for a while?”
“Y-Yeah…”
Yuichiro rubbed his back, and in the safety of their embrace, coaxed Mikaela to lay bare his frustrations.
“I can hardly stand it… waiting for you all day. I miss your smile. Your scent. The way you look at me. Everything.”
“I might… have something that could help…”
Mikaela removed himself from the crook of Yuichiro’s neck and shoulder.
“Hm?”
“I made it last night!”
Yuichiro delved into his coat pocket and revealed a small cloth. In the center lay a deep crimson stain, which emitted a scent evocative and wistful.
“Here!”
“Is that…!?”
Mikaela rolled up Yuichiro’s sleeve, revealing a deep cut across his forearm. The edges were beginning to scar, and red smears blemished his skin from a hasty attempt to clean the wound.
“It doesn’t hurt! Honest!” Yuichiro insisted with the expectation of getting yelled at. “I thought… since you liked the scent…”
Mikaela pulled his sleeve down without a word.
“Do you like it…?” asked Yuichiro, rubbing the back of his neck.
No.
To possess any trace of Yuichiro held a risk, even if the odds they would connect it to escaped livestock were slim. Many humans resided in Sanguinem, but that mattered little to Mikaela’s imagination, where no more than an utterance of his name would cost him his remaining family.
He folded Yuichiro’s fingers over his gift.
“I’m sorry…”
The cloth found its way back into Yuichiro’s coat pocket.
“N-No, I understand.”
Silence reigned over the two for a while, a silence evoking an intimacy deep and confidential. Mikaela swept away the snowflakes that reclaimed their space on Yuichiro’s person, then slowly buttoned back up his unfastened coat.
“Yu-chan…” Mikaela began, wrapping Yuichiro’s scarf around his neck.
Yuichiro grit his teeth, well-acquainted with Mikaela’s upcoming words, as if their meetings followed a script.
The familiarity of routine never made it hurt any less.
“We’ve been out here long enough… I can’t let my guards return before me.”
“It’s not fair… ”
Stroking his cheek, Mikaela whispered, “I know.”
Yuichiro didn’t say a word. He simply stared at their trail of footprints, so Mikaela tried again.
“And next time, I’ll find you , okay?”
When Yuichiro spoke at last, he brought Mikaela’s palm to his chest.
“‘Kay…”
“Hey,” Mikaela pressed, pinching Yuichiro’s cheek affectionately.
“Look at me.”
Yuichiro lifted his gaze.
“I love you.”
This declaration failed to stifle the mournful restlessness in Yuichiro’s eyes, the look that he was approaching his limit. Mikaela snuck his hand into Yuichiro’s pocket and retrieved the cloth stained with blood.
“Listen to me…” He pressed it against his cheek. “I’ll keep us safe.”
“Mika…”
Yuichiro drew nearer, a breathless, lingering kiss inches away when Mikaela pressed two fingers against his lips.
“Watch my fangs.”
Yuichiro grinned, heating Mikaela’s hands in his and giving them an affectionate squeeze. “I know that already! I’m always careful!”
“Is that why you cut your tongue last time?”
The gentle laughter they shared melted all tension between them, if not for a moment, and they lost themselves in a kiss renewed and prolonged. Mikaela adored it, how alive Yuichiro was. How his warm and sweet breath traveled deep into his still lungs, his small gasps spilling between their mouths. Mikaela’s hands slipped up his scarf, and he indulged in the pulse throbbing against his fingertips. The ambient rhythm of his heartbeat, the promise of blood pumping through his veins, both stimulated his thirst and filled him with a sense of tranquility.
Indeed, Yuichiro was by his side.
And if he wanted it to stay that way, he’d let him go.
With a regretful whimper, Mikaela was the one to break their kiss. He cupped a hand against the back of Yuichiro’s neck, lured his head downward until their foreheads touched.
“Leave. And never meet me here again.”
“Got it…”
Yuichiro’s step away was minuscule, his hand still in Mikaela’s. He walked backward until distance alone segregated their fingers, and then, with a sigh of vexation, he turned away.
As he ran down the snowy cliff, Mikaela kept watch on his every movement. Until the scent of Yuichiro’s blood vanished from the air, there he’d remain. Motionless.
That was the last night he ever saw him.
In the four years since Yuichiro’s disappearance, Mikaela’s explorations to the surface persisted. He’d lurk about the city each night, sharpening his senses past their limit, desperate to find his scent, his face, or his voice.
Not a trace of him existed.
Upon returning, he’d spend his sleepless nights questioning his memory, the day Yuichiro escaped from Sanguinem when they were children. Perhaps, the darkest corners of his psyche would offer, his sacrifice was all for naught. Yuichiro had passed away as soon as he found freedom, and his secret meetings were but a figment of his traumatized imagination.
But when all hope seemed lost, and the loneliness became unbearable, he’d take hold of his treasure.
In truth, he wasn’t supposed to have it. He intended to give it back to Yuichiro the moment they broke their kiss.
He thanked whatever existed that he didn’t.
In defiance of the passage of time, the blood-stained cloth retained a morsel of Yuichiro’s scent. And that evidence, that confirmation of his life, compelled him to search another night.
Maybe it would snow again soon.
“Yu-chan…” he murmured, close to a moan.
He wanted blood.
Not the insipid blood of livestock, but Yuichiro’s.
Holding his keepsake close always stimulated his appetite, an ever-present reminder of his wretched curse, the segregation of his body and heart.
At the sound of footsteps, he tucked it down into his boots.
If a lower-ranked vampire entered his room, a flute glass of blood in hand, it must’ve been feeding time for the nobles.
Mikaela’s posture stiffened as the servant trailed up the long, red rug leading to his throne. His face resembled all the other bloodsuckers haunting the streets of Sanguinem: an apex predator satisfied to the point of boredom. The occasional gleam in his eye could always be attributed to thirst. Nothing else stirred interest.
“For you, Your Royal Highness,” he said, resting the glass on the arm of Mikaela’s throne.
Mikaela lifted his offering.
“… Whose blood is this?”
Bowing, the servant replied, “I cannot answer.”
Typical. They never could.
Identifying humans mattered as little as distinguishing the faces of cattle.
The servant took leave, providing Mikaela the privacy he preferred when drinking.
Moments of hesitation later, Mikaela perched his lips on the edge of the glass, tilting it ever so slightly until the blood traveled down his throat.
Nothing he ever consumed tasted as good as the memory of Yuichiro’s.
To survive off the blood of anyone else felt wrong, like he degraded himself to a monster that fed indiscriminately.
But if he was going to find Yuichiro, to preserve a sliver of a chance at best, he needed to survive.
Even if he had to crawl through the mud on his hands and knees.
Just like Yuichiro told him to.
Surrendering to grief wasn’t an option.
As the blood coated his tongue, he detected the age of the owner on instinct.
A child’s.
And to his dismay, regardless of its source, there was no denying the unworldly pleasure it bestowed. Like a person possessed, his mind always went blank, and he wouldn’t stop until every stray rivulet of blood had settled in his stomach.
He licked his fangs, wiped the corners of his lips, and searched for remnants at the roof of his mouth.
With the death of his afterglow came an unfailing sense of guilt, but he held this guilt dear.
The longer he stayed in Sanguinem, drank the blood of livestock, the more he feared the utter decay of his personhood.
That he could consume the sole thing his body desired, and still experience a modicum of regret, gave assurance to his humanity.
He could still be the person Yuichiro loved.
“Your Royal Highness?”
At the far end of the throne room, his guards approached.
A faint spasm of dread racked afflicted Mikaela, for he knew what their presence at this day, at this hour, meant.
“Lacus, René,” he greeted beneath his breath.
René gave a quick bow. “It’s time.”
Mikaela handed his empty glass to Lacus and followed them into the streets of Sanguinem.
The day before yesterday, the queen had summoned Mikaela into her throne room. She announced with the apathy of telling the time that she had given away his hand in marriage, and in two days’ time, his guards would escort him to the meeting of his betrothed.
To protest, she had claimed, would waste her time and his.
She was his savior.
His surrogate parent.
His owner.
To whom or why he was getting married, she kept secret, hidden beneath the elusiveness of her smile.
“He’s being awfully quiet,” Lacus mumbled to René. He turned to Mikaela with no genuine concern and blood staining his curled lips.
“How’re you holding up? Think we should head back?”
He wasn’t going to get a response.
Eventually, René answered in his stead.
“The prince’s feelings are irrelevant. What matters is achieving the queen’s objective.”
“Ha! Just what I’d expect you to say. Hear that, Your Royal Highness?”
Yes.
And it mattered little.
As far as he was concerned, Krul could tether him to any vampire in Sanguinem.
No loathsome bloodsucker was even remotely capable of taking Yuichiro’s place.
If his future spouse interfered with his search, he had no reservation with killing them.
To lose a night on the surface for the sake of this meeting irritated him enough.
While his guards carelessly besmirched some children’s drawings in the street, Mikaela stepped over them warily. The artists had huddled into the corner of a stone bench, their tiny frames quivering at their subduers. The oldest of the four, as if he had any hope of protecting them, stood before the smaller kids.
On his face lived the fiery disdain Yuichiro had for vampires when he was livestock.
Perhaps he protected their hearts with the same stupid, precious dreams…
He offered a smile futile and apologetic and let them be.
As the memory of Yuichiro’s words drowned out the sounds of reality, he glanced up at where the sky should’ve been.
‘I’ll be with you. Always.’
Mikaela’s fingers graced where he hid his cloth.
This wasn’t his home. Yuichiro was.
Whatever happened to him here meant nothing.
His resolve only strengthened when they arrived at the opulent mansion that served as the council chamber.
“Ready?” Lacus asked, another question that didn’t receive an answer.
He and René pried open the vast double doors, and an unnerving number of faces surrounded him, loomed above.
Only one was familiar.
“Mikaela! Welcome.”
Queen Krul Tepes.
She sat upon a throne overlooking the tiers of seated nobles, those Mikaela had never seen roaming the streets, aligned in the auditorium, or flying over war-torn cities in their helicopters.
“Krul… what is all this—”
The layers of seats on the other side of the wall, however, captivated him to a greater, more disturbing extent.
If mere stares had the power to consume, he would’ve been devoured where he stood. The figures across the room surveyed him with blood-curdling grins, illuminated in gruesome detail by the lanterns mounted against the walls. Their fangs were that of a typical vampire’s, if not sharper, and crowning a majority of their skulls were horns dark as night.
“Demons…?”
Above all the rest, relaxing in a throne of his own, sat a demon whose horns resembled tiny white diamonds. His hair flowed like mist, cast over his left eye, which focused on Mikaela with such burning intensity despite the serenity of his features.
“So this is your offering,” he said, making a steeple with his fingers.
Krul folded her hands into her lap. “Yes, Ashera. Presenting my progeny to the council at last is nothing short of a delight.”
“Prince Mikaela of Sanguinem…”
Testing the name on his tongue was a demon with a white tiger headdress, his eyes shrouded beneath the pelt.
“Come closer. I wish to take a look at you.”
After a cautionary glance at Krul, Mikaela stepped onto a raised platform, into the burning light of chandeliers. The suffocating scrutiny of the demons intensified, but he steeled himself before his onlookers.
A woman cloaked in a scarf darker than black, with a single horn protruding from her forehead, ran her tongue across her lips.
“Exquisite. He’s exactly what you promised.”
“The prince himself… what cherubic features for a vampire,” said another.
“Look! Look over here, progeny! Let me see those eyes!”
Mikaela remained quiet, refused to meet any of their gazes. But the longer this silence persisted, the sharper the daggers Krul glared.
“Say a few words, Mikaela,” she demanded. “These demons have traveled all the way from the second vampire capital. We owe them our hospitality.”
Her sudden laughter reverberated about the walls. “Well, I suppose there’s no use referring to it as such. It’s Abaddon now, yes?”
The demon she called Ashera had a cackle similar to hers, albeit huskier.
“To acknowledge the city as our own… How flattering!”
“The second…?” mouthed Mikaela to himself.
Years had passed since he heard about the second vampire capital, not since Ferid snuck him into a progenitor council meeting even he was barred from attending. That day had been the first time he’d witnessed genuine concern on Krul’s face, as she relayed an emergency dire enough to break through the stoic regality of all the attending progenitors.
A vampire district had been overthrown, wiped out, with such swiftness and brutality it constituted a threat to each of their reigns.
If they originated from that capital…
Mikaela’s eyes widened.
“You’re the ones who caused the uprising…”
Ashera’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “You’re familiar?”
A faint repulsion compelled Mikaela to back away, so he took a step forward in rebellion to his unease.
“I heard about you… you poisoned vampires with your curse, possessed their livestock, stole their blood supply…”
With each accusation, a shirtless demon with locks red as blood skinned his teeth.
“Oh ho! This one’s informed. Did you tell him, Queen Tepes?”
“Why did you invite them here!?” Mikaela demanded, facing his sire.
At the snap of Krul’s fingers, a servant lurking in the corners provided her a glass of blood.
“For our future,” she answered after a few sips.
The quizzical expression on Mikaela’s face was all she needed to continue.
“The second capital was annihilated because of its own incompetence. I have no plans of suppressing a growing demon population, starving them of blood and desires in the hopes they’ll disappear.”
At this, she waved toward the council of demons.
“For isn’t demonhood the fate of all vampires in the end?”
Her inquiry earned the amusement of a rather muscular demon on the borrow row, who adjusted the lapels of his long, black coat.
“Ha! I’d certainly say so.”
“Instead, we will converge,” Krul continued. “We’ll celebrate Abaddon and Sanguinem becoming allies.”
Mikaela’s face darkened. “So you’re letting them stay…”
“If they so desire. Vampires visiting Abaddon. Demons roaming in Sanguinem. Ours will be a peaceful coexistence—”
“How can you trust them!? You could be falling right into their trap—”
“Your apprehension stings, Krul’s progeny.”
The smallest of the demons cut him off. Putting his feet up in the third row, he twirled a lock of his fluffy white tail.
“We have no interest in taking over Sanguinem. Not when your sire has graciously offered us her son.”
“Indeed!”
From the second row came the voice of a young woman, her garb most bizarre for her kind: a school uniform designated for humans.
An unsettling dissonance lived between her saccharine smile and nearly empty eyes.
“You will be the symbol of achieving our union. You and your future spouse.”
She materialized behind Mikaela, her ashen hair flowing into his line of sight as she rested a hand on his shoulder.
“The beauty of love quelling any conflict between us…”
Before Mikaela could shrug away from her touch, she manifested back in her seat.
“Miraculous, isn’t it?”
Mikaela narrowed his eyes.
“And if I refuse?”
“Goodness, how obstinate!”
Krul finished her remaining swallows of blood, letting the glass slip from her fingers and shatter at her feet.
“Didn’t I make it clear it’s impossible for you to defy me? Defy us? Have you forgotten who you belong to? If I choose to give you away, you are given.”
She faced the demon council with feigned disappointment, all the while signaling for another serving of blood.
“I apologize for my self-centered son.”
Ashera folded his arms over his chest, requesting a glass for himself. “It’s all right. His marriage is more of an abstraction right now. Perhaps it’ll feel more real once he meets his betrothed.”
Mikaela’s eyes flickered toward the exit. “… I’m not marrying one of you—”
“Ahaha! You don’t have a choice.”
Ashera rested his fist on his cheek and gave up acknowledging Mikaela.
“If I recall correctly, seventh progenitor Ferid Bathory was put in charge of finding a suitable mate. Are you sure he was the correct choice?”
Krul gave vent to a small sigh. “He insisted he knew just the right demon the moment we proposed the idea. He may have his eccentricities, but I trust his sense of aesthetics.”
As though he’d been listening to the entire conversation—and knowing him, he was—Mikaela sensed an approaching presence from outside the doors.
All eyes landed on the leftward entrance, filling the chamber with whispers.
“You may enter,” Krul asserted.
Emerging from the darkness of the corridor came Ferid Bathory. He joined Mikaela on the other side of the platform and gave a bow a shade too theatrical, as though he completed the performance of a lifetime.
“Demons and vampires of the council, it was my absolute pleasure to act as the ambassador to Abaddon.”
He gestured his manicured fingers toward the exit.
“My decision for my monarch’s future spouse was a clear one, for there was but one demon who exuded the qualities I desired! You will find him a wonderful specimen. I guarantee when he meets the prince…”
Ferid looked Mikaela in the eye and flashed him a grin both dazzling and horrid.
“Their love shall be instantaneous.”
“Enough talking,” the tiger-demon commanded.
“Reveal his betrothed.”
This impatience only deepened the curve of Ferid’s smile.
“Of course.”
He confronted the darkness of the hall once more.
“You can come out now. Thank you for humoring my introduction.”
Mikaela followed Ferid’s gaze, an emotion vague and oppressive surging up in his heart. Ever since Krul informed him of his future spouse, he expected a fellow bloodsucker. A slightly tolerable, if not predictable, life. To face a wildcard such as a demon, however, rattled his nerves more than he’d care to admit.
His hand trailed to his rapier’s handle on instinct, but no amount of mental preparation braced him for the sight of his future spouse.
His entire body froze.
The room around him spun.
His betrothed was like any other demon: red, piercing eyes, a pair of horns protruding from his skull.
But his face…
His eyes didn’t need to be green he’d come to adore, and there was no mistaking the delicate charm of his smile, the voice he found mellifluous when he greeted Ferid. From the curve of his nose, to the lips he knew with great intimacy, to the dark locks he’d ran his fingers through countless times…
His captivating scent.
The demon noticed him staring.
Of course he did.
Mikaela couldn’t look away.
His eyes must’ve deceived him.
When their gazes met, the entire world stood as still as his thoughts.
The demons and vampires amongst him disappeared.
Only one person existed in the chamber.
“Y-Yu…” he whimpered through the suffocating thickness filling his throat.
Countless, incessant images of Yuichiro flashed through his mind’s eye, each of them an inexplicable match to the face before him.
The demon closed the distance between them until he was but a stride away, and the nickname of his first and only love spilled from Mikaela’s lips without forethought.
“Yu-chan…?”
The demon tilted his head, his smile ever-present.
“That’s a funny way of saying my name. But how do you know it when I haven’t told you yet?”
“Welcome,” Krul greeted, her voice mere white noise in Mikaela’s ear.
“Kindly introduce yourself.”
His betrothed gave a lackadaisical wave to his spectators.
“I’m Yuichiro. Thank you for accepting me into your home.”
His greeting earned a nod of approval from Krul.
“There’s no need to stand on ceremony. Soon it will be your palace as well.”
Ashera’s mouth relaxed in a triumphant smile.
“Hm. It seems you were right to trust him, Krul,” he said, raising his glass to Yuichiro.
“I like this one’s countenance.”
Ferid beamed.
“Yes… such clear and beautiful eyes. He’s quite the cute one, isn’t he?”
Snorting at Ferid’s compliment, Yuichiro continued, “I’m delighted to be accepted into Sanguinem’s royal family. Lord Ferid’s told me so much.”
No.
“I’m pleased. Mikaela?”
It couldn’t be.
“Mikaela?”
A while passed before Mikaela was able to tear his eyes away from Yuichiro. Had astonishment not numbed him to every other sensation, perhaps Krul’s glower would’ve had some effect.
“Wha…?”
“For what purpose are you keeping your mouth shut? Greet him.”
Mikaela’s eyes shifted to the demon and vampire councils.
“Go on…” the red-headed demon urged, waving his hand dismissively.
After a hard swallow, Mikaela pulled himself together and faced ‘Yuichiro’ once more. He stilled his trembling fingers with a squeeze of his fist, managed to bring his hand forward.
“M-Mikaela Tepes…” He forced out each syllable. “Prince of Sanguinem…”
A chill climbed the ladder of Mikaela’s spine when Yuichiro took his hand, from the manner in which his fingers curled around his own.
Before him stood a demon.
His hand shouldn’t have exuded a warmth heartbreaking in its familiarity, even through his glove.
It shouldn’t have fit so perfectly into his.
“Can I call you Mika?”
“Mi…”
He’d fallen back in time.
The question had stolen his voice, robbed him of the ability to think of anything else.
The length of time in which he stood there in silence escaped him.
“If that is all…” Ferid broke in, the self-satisfied smirk audible in his voice.
“Yes,” Mikaela heard Krul say. “We may conclude this session of the council.”
The sound of emptying seats from the left and right proceeded, followed by footsteps eerie in their uniformity.
“Ferid, escort Yuichiro to the guest room. You are to retrieve him when it’s time for the ceremony.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Black demons of Abaddon, I’ve prepared a banquet for you in the palace. Please, join me.”
When Yuichiro released Mikaela’s hand, it broke him out of his trance and left an impossible tingle on his palm. Mikaela watched his every step as Ferid led him to his temporary quarters, how he leisurely clasped his hands behind his head as he walked.
The way he always had.
As Krul descended from her throne, hand-in-hand with Ashera, she acknowledged Mikaela a final time before abandoning him to the platform.
“You’re free to go as well, Mikaela.”
The council chamber had emptied, save for Lacus and René, who waited to escort their respective monarch back to his throne room.
But his body refused to move.
There was no denying the face of his family, the sole tether to his dwindling humanity.
His mannerisms.
Voice.
Scent.
All cast beneath the veil of demonic features.
‘No… that can’t be my…’
With determination renewed and desperate, Mikaela strode past his guards, his mind filled with nothing but those dark horns, menacing fangs, and mesmerizing red eyes.
“Hey, Your Royal Highness! Where are you—”
“Don’t follow me!”
Racing through the streets of Sanguinem, neither the tantalizing scents of the wandering livestock nor their blood-collecting subduers diverted his focus.
“Prince Mikaela—”
Whatever his subject desired of him, it didn’t matter. He shoved him to the side with the ease of pushing open a door.
His hand rose to the hilt of his sword, and he slowly drew it from its scabbard.
“Sword…”
The grip of his weapon throbbed beneath his fingers.
“Drink my blood.”
Vines barbed and sharp sprouted from his blade and impaled his flesh, draining him of his life force yet instilling him with ample strength.
The guest room.
That’s where his target resided.
His sword was a deep crimson by the time he reached the palace.
After climbing a lengthy flight of stairs and traversing two hallways, he reached his destination at last.
He threw open the bedroom door, and there Yuichiro sat.
Either he expected Mikaela’s presence or it meant next to nothing, for the opposite of surprise graced his features. Relaxing on the edge of the bed, a glass of blood rested in his palm, halfway full.
“You know…” he began, resting his unfinished drink on the nightstand.
“I’ve never met a vampire with such strong desires before.”
Mikaela tensed, his eyes drawn to Yuichiro’s lips, to his elongated fangs.
“Usually when I look into the hearts of your kind, all I see is the despair of boredom or a thirst for blood. But you…”
Yuichiro rose, taking careful steps toward Mikaela.
“You’re very interesting—”
The tip of Mikaela’s sword met his neck and stopped him in his tracks.
“Don’t move.”
With a coy tilt of his head, Yuichiro asked, “Woah… You’re gonna point your sword at me?”
“Release Yu right now, demon.”
Yuichiro’s brows raised. “Release me? What are you talking about—”
“Shut up! That name doesn’t belong to you!”
With little regard to the edge slicing into his fingers, Yuichiro grasped the blade with his bare hand and lowered it from his neck. He raised his wounded hand, letting the blood drip onto the crimson carpet.
The irresistible scent of this hemorrhage bedeviled Mikaela, and he choked down a whine that, to his dismay, Yuichiro’s ears had caught.
A suggestive smirk stretched his lips.
“Interesting…” he said, flexing his fingers as his lacerated skin and muscle closed on their own.
“The scent of my blood is driving you insane.”
“I said shut up!”
Yuichiro rested a hand on his chest. “I see… all your desire must be for him.”
Mikaela’s blade sliced the air when Yuichiro evaded his attack, the excess momentum from his charge almost slamming him against the wall.
“But how can that be?” Yuichiro mused behind his back.
“What kind of bloodsucker are you?”
He stretched out his hand, his fingers brushing the locks on the back of Mikaela’s head.
“Don’t touch me!”
The moment Mikaela turned, however, Yuichiro trapped him between the wall and his body by smacking his left hand against the wall. With his right, he exposed the crook of his neck.
“Go ahead,” he proposed, “Bite me if that’s what you want. We’ll be married soon, anyway. My blood is your blood—”
Face flushed, Mikaela shoved his arm away and attempted another swing of his blade.
But Yuichiro vanished as quickly as he materialized.
“Huh… It seems I’m not impartial to you, either. Who are you?”
“Let Yu-chan go!”
Mikaela’s sword cleaved through an ornate coffee table in the heart of the room. Only some stray locks from Yuichiro’s bangs suffered damage.
“Ahaha! I am Yu.”
“You’re lying!”
Upon his third attack, Mikaela sliced more than Yuichiro’s hair. Despite his leap backward, a deep gash appeared on his cheek.
“Ha! Your speed’s impressive!”
He chuckled, wiping a sample of blood from his face and rubbing it between his fingers.
“Careful, you wouldn’t want to hurt your precious Yu-chan’s body, would you?”
Mikaela grit his teeth, and his sword, privy to his intent, retracted its vines from his flesh.
“Damn it…!”
Appearing over the broken table, Yuichiro pulled the hilt of Mikaela’s sword from his grip and dropped it onto the floor. He watched as the blood drained from his blade, reverting it back to an innocuous silver.
When Mikaela only met his smile with a scowl, he made an insincere whine of, “Aw. Stop looking at me like that—”
“How did you find his body!?”
“Find?”
Yuichiro’s fingers drifted from the split mahogany of the table to the tip of Mikaela’s chin.
“Did you ever consider the person you loved was a demon all along?”
Mikaela’s mouth fell open. He shoved his hand away and yanked him by the collar.
“Yu-chan was never one of you!”
“Stop it, Mika. You’re gonna hurt me.”
“Leave him! Now!”
Curling his fingers over Mikaela’s, Yuichiro lowered his voice and brought his face nearer to Mikaela.
“Make me.”
A fresh swell of rage rising within him, Mikaela cried out in frustration and pushed Yuichiro onto the floor.
“You—!”
“Upon my word!”
Bringing in another glass of blood for their esteemed guest, Ferid leaned against the guest room’s doorframe.
“Ferid Bathory…!?”
Surveying his chosen betrothed on the floor, the spilled blood on the nightstand, and the broken coffee table, he made a show of his disappointed sigh.
“Come now, is that any way to treat your future spouse?”
With a sense of foreboding, Mikaela’s eyes lowered to Yuichiro.
His smirk embodied a twisted perversion of the human he loved.
A personification of his loss.
A stolen home.
Mikaela retrieved his sword and backed away slowly, his eyes locked onto Yuichiro’s until he ran out of the room.
“Your Royal Highness, don’t run off just yet!” Ferid cried, his voice playfully quaint and devoid of any genuine sympathy.
He followed Mikaela onto one of Sanguinem’s many bridges, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder.
“What do you know about Yu!?” Mikaela demanded, shoving Ferid away. The attention he attracted from the vampires stalking the streets wasn’t worth his concern.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Don’t toy with me! You picked him on purpose, didn’t you!? You knew about us!”
It took next to nothing for Ferid to lower his pretense.
“… Your reunion wasn’t to your liking?” he asked, propping a hand on his hip.
“Why is he a demon now!? If you were able to find him so easily, then you must have known what happened to him!”
Mikaela grabbed the hilt of his sword once more, ready to cleave it into Ferid’s neck.
“What were you plotting!? What were you trying to do!?”
Ferid laughed, raising his hands in a show of defeat.
“Scary! I assure you, I didn’t plan anything!”
Side-stepping Mikaela, Ferid leaned against the bridge, catching a glimpse of a misty waterway.
“If you ask me, his condition was a foregone conclusion.”
Mikaela clenched his fist, resisted the urge to connect it to Ferid’s cheek.
“What are you talking about…?”
As a pair of livestock children passed through the walkway, Ferid grabbed one by the neck and raised her above the stone tile. His sharp nails dug into her carotid artery, and rivulets of blood ran down her skin.
“Why, this!”
Mikaela rushed to the aide of the young girl, snagging her from Ferid’s grasp and setting her on the ground with care. Upon landing, broken sobs tore through her throat, and she hurried into the arms of her horrified friend.
Ferid snickered.
“A poor, weak human has a lover-turned-vampire in captivity. He lacks the power to save him. After all, a human’s strength is 1/7th of a vampire’s. He wouldn’t survive fighting one, much less a horde of nobles.”
In the face of Yuichiro’s heart being laid bare, Mikaela maintained a silence bitter and obstinate.
“His lover sneaks out each night, consoling him the best he could, but it’s not enough to suppress the all-consuming greed typical of humans. He wants his lover back. So he does what any reckless, out-of-options human would do.”
Mikaela’s chest felt like it was caving in.
The image of Yuichiro as a hapless victim perished before the sickening plausibility of Ferid’s story.
“N-No…” he whispered.
He told Yuichiro to be careful, that those who preyed on humanity’s desperation could easily manipulate him.
For him to make light of that risk…
“You’re wrong…”
Mikaela held himself.
“Yu wouldn’t—”
“Enlist the help of a demon?”
He couldn’t even say it.
All he could do was shake his head, earning the grimness of Ferid’s laughter and a stroke of his hair he hadn’t received since childhood.
“You underestimate his love for you.”
He was but a stride away when Mikaela grabbed his cape and cried, “How do I get him back!?”
A shrug and empty assurances were all he received.
“Alas, my knowledge ends here. But what luck! Now you’ll get to keep an eye on him!
Mikaela bit his lip, and the resulting silence, awkward and distressing, prompted Ferid to look over his shoulder.
“You are going through with the wedding, yes? You don’t want to abandon your precious, darling angel when he needs your help more than ever.”
To Mikaela’s dismay, he had a point.
To reject this wedding, to run, would be to throw Yuichiro away.
His hand falling to his side, Mikaela uttered his consent.
“… Yes.”
Ferid clapped his hands. “Well! You have quite the day tomorrow! Shall I take you back to your room—”
This time, his rapier did meet Ferid’s neck.
“Stay away from me.”
“As you wish. Don’t be late tomorrow.”
Ferid’s laughter echoed in Mikaela’s head long after he disappeared, taking a few lower-ranked vampires with him.
In the safety of a tunnel beneath an old set of stone steps, Mikaela snuck into its solitude. He refused to return to his throne room, pestered by his guards, nor would he show his face in the guest-chamber for the rest of the night. In an area free of Sanguinem’s wandering eyes, he collapsed into a heap against the wall. He brought his knees up to his chest, rested his forehead on his arms, and allowed himself to do something he hadn’t done since he turned into a vampire:
He cried.
“Vampires and demons alike, it is my honor to join you in celebrating the existence of Mikaela and Yuichiro. Today, we will bear witness as they join their lives together in marriage.”
In the heart of a massive cathedral, Yuichiro and Mikaela stood before an altar wrapped in roses, their petals scattered across their feet. Mikaela’s hands were in the shelter of Yuichiro’s. He ignored the small, affectionate squeezes he received and kept his eyes on the aisle runner.
Standing on the other side of a podium, Krul’s officiant speech lacked a declaration of intent, nor did she wax poetic about a marriage occurring in the heart, an outward manifestation of an already existing, inward union.
Vows mattered little.
Not a single soul in the cathedral was ignorant of their wedding’s purpose.
The prince of Sanguinem was to be seen, not heard.
“Ferid Bathory, the rings.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Having traversed down the aisle to the sweet and plaintive rhythm of the orchestra, Ferid bestowed an elongated, golden box before Mikaela and Yuichiro. Within it stood two platinum wedding bands, emblazoned with Sanguinem’s royal crest. Its channel-set diamonds sparkled beneath the light of the chandeliers.
“The engaged will exchange these rings as a symbol of their new, unending bond,” Krul announced.
Ferid motioned the box to Mikaela and whispered, “Take one, Your Royal Highness.”
Mikaela obeyed without a word.
“As you place this ring on Yuichiro’s finger,” Krul continued, “Repeat after me.”
Mikaela could feel Yuichiro’s eyes boring into him as he focused on his former lover’s hand, the same hand he’d held for years.
He slipped it onto his finger.
“With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my life now and forever.”
Mikaela held back a grimace.
“…With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my life now and forever.”
Yuichiro’s fangs appeared sharper, more ghoulish when he grinned today.
He’d tolerate a glance at Yuichiro’s lips, but to look him in the eye proved difficult.
“Yuichiro, as you place this ring on Mikaela’s finger, repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my love now and forever.”
The torturing deception of warmth returned when Yuichiro steadied his hand.
A mere band of silver bore the heaviness of a chain.
“With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my life now and forever.”
Having decorated Mikaela’s finger, his hand rose to Mikaela’s chin, lifting his head until their eyes met.
“All of me is yours.”
Satisfied, Krul made a gesture for Ferid to stand aside.
“Before these witnesses, you have given your word to be joined in marriage. You will now seal this oath with mutual blood consumption. Attendants, please raise your glasses and drink with the betrothed.”
The demons and vampire nobles raised their chalices, and dread filled Mikaela’s heart when she followed up with, “Mikaela will drink first.”
As Yuichiro unfastened his collar, exposing the flesh of his neck, the memory of his beloved family’s blood made his mouth water.
He didn’t want this.
He was happy to end his consumption of Yuichiro’s blood with his disappearance.
To feed on a demon…
“Are you worried you’ll lose yourself?” Yuichiro asked as if reading his thoughts.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you.”
A cursory glance at Yuichiro’s neck revealed his bite marks had disappeared.
“Come, drink,” Yuichiro encouraged when Mikaela didn’t move. “It’s been a while since you’ve had my blood.”
“Mikaela?” Krul insisted.
He made an effort to control himself, to ensure the malignant feeling aflame in his chest wouldn’t appear on his face. While his heart tore into pieces, Mikaela's fangs elongated, ached, and his instincts desired nothing more than to bite into his neck.
Lips gracing his skin, he jolted when Yuichiro hugged his waist.
“I won’t activate my curse,” he muttered, “You’re safe.”
“Shut up…” Mikaela replied at equal volume.
At last, he bit deep into his flesh.
The moment his blood hemorrhaged into his mouth, however, he retracted his fangs with haste, sloppily, and stepped away.
It frightened him, the dizzying ecstasy from a single swallow. More than the gratification of blood drinking, he reunited with the taste he yearned for all these years. He wanted to cling to him like a spoiled child, to drink until nothing remained in his veins.
“That’s all you’re having?” asked Yuichiro, tracing his fingers over shallow bite marks.
Mikaela barely managed a polite nod, and the vampire attendants finished their glasses in support of their monarch’s consumption.
‘Yu-chan… Yu-chan…!’ his mind cried ad nauseam. ‘He’s there…’
“It’s all right,” Yuichiro chuckled, breaking Mikaela’s thoughts. “You can have more whenever you want, Mika.”
Shame and contemptuous annoyance darkened Mikaela’s face, returned him to reality.
“Don’t call me that—”
Yuichiro silenced him by wiping the residue of blood from the corners of his mouth. Those fingers then descended to expose the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
“My turn.”
Mikaela remained taut as Yuichiro leaned into his neck.
“Scared?”
“No. Never.”
Bringing his lips up to Mikaela’s ear, Yuichiro whispered, “Must be strange, being the one bit this time. Have you ever wondered how it felt?”
“ Yu-chan isn’t the one biting me.”
“He’s so precious to you,” Yuichiro mused, placing his hand on Mikaela’s abdomen.
“Maybe I should get a peek at who I was.”
“Wha—”
“Hold still.”
Yuichiro’s fangs sunk into the depths of his neck, dousing him in morbid pleasure the moment his blood left his veins. A fear of death and mind-numbing elation made a mess of his head. But while his body cried out in reprieve, reveled in a bliss only afforded to those losing their blood, the sliver of his brain still under his control nearly suffocated on his fear.
Upon Yuichiro’s touch, the remainder of his humanity was corroding from the inside.
Something in his heart was pried open, stolen.
The hand merging into his abdomen was consuming his precious memories in agonizing detail, drawing out desires deep in his soul, desires he hadn’t even shared with Yuichiro.
Once Yuichiro withdrew his fangs, licked the remaining blood from his lips, he pulled back, studying Mikaela’s face.
“That was…”
The demons in the pews finished their glasses of blood in reverence to their future prince-consort.
The nightmarish blend of delight and horror soon departed from Mikaela’s brain, and its wake was the utter mortification of something precious laid bare.
By turns, his face flushed and grew pale.
“What did you…?”
The rest of his question never made it past his lips, for Krul stepped between the two of them.
“Having consumed each other’s blood, and by the authority vested in me as Queen Krul Tepes of Sanguinem, I now pronounce them prince and prince-consort!”
As the attendants met this pronouncement with a thin scattering of applause, Krul renounced her spot at the podium and stood before the pews.
“Please rise for their celebratory dance.”
“Dance…?” Mikaela echoed, glancing about the cathedral.
At Krul’s behest, the demons and vampire nobles rose and began clapping in three-quarter time.
Followed by the musicians.
Then came the opening trill of piano keys, followed by the brilliance of strings, brass, and woodwinds. Together they formed the bewitching, careless gaiety of the waltz.
Yuichiro smiled and offered his hand to Mikaela.
“Shall we?”
Behind Mikaela’s scowl was a quick mental calculation. His aversion to the demon who violated his innermost thoughts, pillaged his lover’s body, couldn’t have been higher. Nevertheless, his determination to hurry and finish the wedding outweighed any disdain.
So he rested his fingers on Yuichiro’s open palm.
“Great! I’ll take the lead.”
Yuichiro rested his hand gently on Mikaela’s back, just below the shoulder blade, and clasped his right hand with his left.
“Place your left hand on my shoulder,” Yuichiro said.
After a passing glance at Krul, who encouraged him with a curt nod, Mikaela complied.
“Now watch our feet.”
Yuichiro stepped forward with his left foot, coaxing Mikaela to step back with his right. And when Yuichiro stepped to the right, he instructed him to step to the left. He walked him through the basic waltz until they created an elegant, effortless glide about the floor, the sway of their bodies reminiscent of a pendulum.
“I’ve been waiting for this for such a long time… for us. Mika, I love you.”
Mikaela glared as if awaiting a challenge. “No, you don’t.”
“Ahaha! Those memories—”
“Don’t concern you, demon.”
He wouldn’t fall prey to the hints of tenderness present in Yuichiro’s smile.
“You fell in love with me so easily. Was my smile really what kept you going as livestock?”
Mikaela refused to answer.
“‘I’ll protect it even if I have to sell my blood, flesh, and body for it. That’s nothing.’ Do you remember thinking that?”
Again, Mikaela made no answer.
“Obstinate silence, huh? That’s not how you’ll get your Yu-chan back.”
“What do you want me to do?” Mikaela asked, ignoring the intimate manner in which Yuichiro entwined their fingers.
“Beg you in front of these demons?”
Without warning, Yuichiro twirled Mikaela until he stood behind him. Holding Mikaela’s right hand in his left, Yuichiro nestled his chin into the crook of his neck.
“It’s no matter. I consumed all your desires. Your deepest memories. I know you more than he ever could.”
“Ha!”
Resentment seared through Mikaela’s laughter, and he tensed the arm holding Yuichiro’s hand.
“I thought you were Yu-chan.”
“I am…” he assured with a whimsical flair in his voice. He rocked Mikaela in a gentle sway. “But I’m also the demon that’s eaten his soul. We’re too intertwined to be separated.”
To this Mikaela could find no reply, a pang of grief seizing his chest.
“Where was I? Oh, yes… You escaped being livestock at the cost of your family. Your humanity. Only I became free. But even after becoming the prince of Sanguinem, you’d run off to the surface to search for me.”
Whatever game this was, Mikaela refused to play it.
He was only flaunting, putting the spoils of ransacking his heart on display.
At least their current position kept him from looking into those eyes he wished were green.
Unmistakably human.
Whether Yuichiro read his mind and felt spiteful, he couldn’t say, but he reunited their faces with another twirl. He twined Mikaela’s arms around his neck, while his own hands settled at his waist. The long-drawn notes of the violoncello swelled over the other instruments and took command of their flowing steps.
“An illicit love affair with a human. Your subjects would find that repulsive. Sneaking kisses with livestock.”
“Yu-chan wasn’t livestock.”
“Now you speak!”
Yuichiro lowered his eyes.
“I like your voice. Especially when you say my name.”
The silent treatment was as ineffective on him as it was on Ferid, for the more he resisted Yuichiro’s prodding, the more amused he became.
“Peering into your heart informed me of a dream I had,” Yuichiro noted.
“That was Yu-chan’s. You didn’t dream anything—”
“I wanted to make you human,” Yuichiro broke in.
“More than anything in the world, I wanted to take you away from this place. Perhaps create our own world, just you and me.”
Mikaela averted his gaze to the clapping attendants.
“… What’s your point?”
“You didn’t believe it was possible. Never did.”
Yuichiro tightened his grip on Mikaela’s waist.
“And now it’s too late—”
“You’re wrong. I’m saving him.”
“Save…”
Yuichiro’s voice trailed off as if he realized something important, but still Mikaela wouldn’t raise his eyes.
“Strange…” Yuichiro mused, “When you say that, this weird, unsettled feeling enters my heart. I think I feel the same way about you.”
Mikaela simply made a humming sound in his throat.
He refused to humor whatever sensations a demon stole from his family.
“There’s just one problem,” Yuichiro added.
Removing a hand from Mikaela’s waist, he entwined their fingers up and to the side once more, shifting so their left and right hip joined respectively.
“Say you do get your lover to return,” he pointed out, “What will you do if I disappear? Your spouse is supposed to be a demon.”
A shared, sidelong glance with Krul reminded Mikaela to keep up appearances, even if he could hardly rein in his frown, so he returned his free hand to Yuichiro’s shoulder.
“And without a demon,” he goaded further, “he’s as helpless as he was before. Face it. We’re safer now than we’ve ever been.”
No.
“I’m protecting him.”
Yuichiro wasn’t ‘protected’ by sharing the body with a demon.
He was trapped.
But if he freed him from his possession, Mikaela hated to admit, he would be stuck where he was before.
If he was going to rescue him all the way, he needed a plan.
Yuichiro brought their cheeks together.
“Furthermore, we’re a symbol of unity, you and I. Imagine the outcry if the vampire prince committed an act of violence to the demon he wed! Would you risk the entire peace of Sanguinem?”
“… If I could guarantee Yu-chan’s safety,” Mikaela said at last, “I wouldn’t care what happens to this place.”
“Ha! That’s a big ‘if.’”
As the music died down, Yuichiro steadied the hand firmly around Mikaela’s waist, the other cradling the back of his neck. With a subtle smirk, he lowered him gently into a dip as Mikaela held onto his shoulders.
“Better not let them hear you.”
His ending pose was in perfect harmony with the conclusion of the musical piece, earning another round of applause from demon and vampire alike.
Pleased, he raised Mikaela back to his feet.
As the cheering died down, Krul approached the cathedral podium one last time.
“At the bidding of Mahiru, the newlyweds will conclude this wedding ceremony with a kiss.”
Mikaela followed Krul’s gaze to the demon in the school uniform, whose self-congratulatory smile deepened upon eye contact.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while…” Yuichiro said, holding Mikaela’s cheek and turning his head back towards him.
Without a word, Mikaela held Yuichiro’s face, closed his eyes, and consoled himself with a promise of their kiss’s brevity. Tilting his chin, he drew nearer to his lips when two fingers pressed against his mouth.
“‘Watch my fangs…’” Yuichiro mimicked, an attempt to cut into his heart that Mikaela wouldn’t dignify with a response.
Their lips glided over each other smoothly, exuding the softness and warmth he remembered from four years ago.
But he wouldn’t be deceived.
The person before him wasn’t his family.
When his hand trailed down Yuichiro’s shoulder to his chest, he wasn’t expecting to find it. The taste of his blood, his body heat, both embodied the hope that his family still occupied a space in this world. But nothing soothed him more, reassured him of his Yu-chan’s life, than the heartbeat throbbing against his palm. Pressed against his frame wasn’t the still, dead body of a demon but the human being he called home, speaking to him through the beautiful sounds of his ventricles. Logic gave way to the irrational hope that he would pull away and meet the green eyes he’d always loved.
As soon as he broke their kiss, Yuichiro cupped a hand against the back of his neck, lowering his head until their foreheads touched.
“How nostalgic…” Yuichiro chuckled as they stood brow-to-brow.
“I don’t care how long I have to endure you…” Mikaela said, stepping away from his touch.
“Yu-chan’s there. And I’m getting him back.”
“Yes, yes,” Yuichiro answered.
“In the meantime…”
He stole a drying droplet of blood from Mikaela’s bite wound and licked it off his finger.
“Let’s have fun together, shall we?”