Draven.
Dennis followed me out of the dining hall like a shadow clinging too closely. He always does this when he has things to say.
I didn’t mind. The atmosphere today was... pleasant.
No one pissed me off.
"You mean our mate?" Rhovan stirred in my head, but I quickly shut him off.
"That dinner wasn’t bad," Dennis said, already sounding too amused with himself. "In fact, I had say it was the most peaceful and interesting meal we’ve had in weeks."
I didn’t respond. Not yet. I knew he wasn’t finished.
He slipped his hands into his pockets. "Did you notice something? Wanda was the one who left early tonight, not Meredith. The tables have turned, big brother."
He was fishing for a reaction. I gave him none.
Dennis grinned wider, cockier. "Come on, admit it. The shift in air? No cold glares, no faked civility. Just calm... well, until you opened your mouth about her eating habits. Why would you liken her to a bird?"
I finally glanced sideways at him. "You sound almost too thrilled."
He looked... excited, like Meredith’s emotional support system.
"Wouldn’t you be?" he said, unfazed. "It’s about time Wanda learned she’s not the centrepiece anymore. And you... well, seems like all that affection you had for her has quietly drifted to someone else."
I stopped mid-step, looking at him. "Affection?"
Dennis didn’t flinch. "Okay, obsession, then. The point still stands."
"And you’re enjoying this a little too much." I resumed walking.
Dennis doesn’t know what he’s saying. For once, I think that his brain is over-shooting with excitement. I decided to be the bigger person and forgive him before he even realizes that he was wrong.
"Of course, I am. This is great character development for you. And also for Wanda, who probably didn’t think you had it in you."
His words drifted off as we turned into one of the quieter wings. The chandeliers above buzzed faintly, lighting the long corridor ahead.
Dennis suddenly turned serious. "Was it true, what I heard? That Xamira was the one who pushed Meredith into the pool?"
My pace slowed slightly. "Sadly, yes. She did that."
Dennis exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "Damn. That girl’s kind and innocent to do something like that unless someone’s messing with her head."
I silently agreed with him.
"Wanda," Dennis muttered. "It has to be her. Xamira doesn’t wake up mean overnight. Wanda is responsible for poisoning her mind."
"I don’t doubt that," I mumbled.
Dennis glanced at me and asked, "So what will you do about it?"
"Wanda won’t be allowed near her again. They won’t be together alone." My voice was flat.
"That’s it?" He gave me an eye, clearly unsatisfied by how I decided to go about the situation. But I had my reasons.
And to get his stubborn ass off my back, I said, "For now."
He sighed. "And Xamira’s punishment? You really think isolating her from the dining table is the best way to handle it?"
My gaze sharpened. "You weren’t there, Dennis. You didn’t see Meredith half-drowned. Pale. Shivering in my arms. She could have died."
Dennis went quiet.
I added, "And when I asked Xamira why she did it, she said she wanted my attention back. That she thought if Meredith left, I would have time for her again."
Dennis stopped walking. "Wait—she said that?"
I nodded once. "Yes.
He exhaled slowly and continued walking, his steps falling into place with mine. "That’s Wanda’s storybook in her head. You think she came up with that motive on her own?"
"That’s why I need to cleanse her of that thinking. She needs time to reflect. To understand what it means to act recklessly and almost take a life, even if it is accidental. Until she does, she won’t sit at that table."
He ran his fingers through his hair. "Then, you are being tough. Xamira is still a child, but I get it."
"I’m her father," I said. "It’s not just about love—it’s about discipline. And it’s my job to make sure she grows up without becoming the kind of woman Wanda has suddenly turned into."
Dennis looked at me, long and hard. Then he gave a small nod, respectful. "Just... don’t be too hard on her. She still loves you, Draven, even if she’s confused. And she must be feeling guilty and miserable thinking about your harsh punishment."
I didn’t say anything, but the truth was weighty and real.
I know I was a bit harsh on Xamira, but it was for a good cause.
Finally, we arrived at the third floor.
Dennis broke the silence. "Father called earlier. Wanted to check on me. Said he had spoken to you."
I gave a small nod. "I updated him about the vampire attack and how Duskmoor twisted the narrative of the attack on LIVE TV."
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Figured. His voice was off. Didn’t say much, but I could hear the edge in his tone."
"He’s worried," I said. "Rightfully so."
We paused near the hallway that split to our rooms. And Dennis leaned against the wall.
"I told Father not to inform the Council, yet."
Dennis blinked. "You’re keeping it from them?"
"For now."
He tilted his head, waiting for more.
I faced him fully. "If we move too fast, we will have the Elders calling for blood and the humans panicking in retaliation. Duskmoor already tried to twist the story the other morning. Imagine what happens if we throw the word vampire into the mix."
Dennis exhaled deeply. "So what? You are buying time?"
"We have to," I said. "If we don’t manage this carefully, we won’t just be caught between humans and vampires—we will be fighting both. And we don’t even know how many of them are out there."
Dennis leaned his head back briefly, sighing. "You are right. It looks like we have a lot of work to do."
There was a beat of silence between us, filled only by the quiet hum of the estate.
"Rest," I told him.
"You too," Dennis said, nodding once. "Good night, brother."
"Good night."