His Mortal Sin

7

ZANE POV

“Didn’t think you’d make it back, brother.”

I clenched my jaw, ignoring the remark and the light tap on my back Gorn gave me.

My mind was in one place, and one place alone.

Kianna.

That little she-devil doesn’t know how much danger is surrounding her. I wonder how far I could tame her before doing what has been running through my head anytime I see her in a tight mini skirt.

I’m sure those bastards do too.

Elliot Soto. Son of Hernia — supreme witch of all underworld.

And Kage Voe. King of the Faes.

“Do you know about Soto and Voe being in the human realm?” I demanded, surprise washing over Gorn’s features.

“Did you see them?”

“Answer the damn question,” I retaliated.

He furrowed his brows before shrugging. “I don’t know… maybe ask your father. He might.”

“This isn’t something the old pig knows about,” I bit out. “He’s probably busy with anyone who has a huge ass and big boobs.”

Gorn rolled his eyes. “You say that as if we all don’t follow his steps. Our father might be a d**k, but he would need to know about this and take it over to the Council.”

Council.

I scoffed.

The same one that banished me because their sacred object was destroyed.

“Which now seems impossible because of you,” he pointed, earning a glare from me.

Ever since I destroyed that infamous sacred object, vampires have been regarded as jokes — untrustworthy to the Council.

The thought alone brought great satisfaction to my dead heart. I’m pretty sure Kage taunted me, thinking I was a lost cause — the failure of my breed. He thought he could easily wipe out the vampires.

They all thought the Order was gone, its power dead, bringing destruction and war to the entire underworld. Not as if everybody wasn’t already at war with one another.

After they cursed me — bound me to a fate that ensures I would become a slave to the humans, shaming the vampires…

The next vampire lord, reduced to a slave.

To a human.

The Order wasn’t dead.

It lives in me.

Every etch of its power — in me.

And if the Order was as strong as they feared it was, I would have either died… or destroyed every member of the underworld.

Liars.

Every member of the Council.

Every one of the four under-kingdoms.

That’s why I stuck to one rule.

Observe and destroy.

“I don’t give a damn,” I hissed, my throat getting tighter, my thirst worse. “Get me blood. Now.”

He raised a brow. “You’re serious? You’re living among blood bags — direct from the source — and you’re thirsty?”

Human. A vampire’s food source. Their blood was euphoric — yet dangerous to take from humans because of one thing.

The Council.

Per usual, I didn’t care what they had to say about vampires drinking directly from humans. The punishment was deadly — scraped from skin, then burned with fire, torment after torment before staking your heart out.

I have done it before — fed from the source.

No guilt. No fear. No mercy.

“I said get me blood, Gorn,” I growled, my pupils thinning into slits. My fangs ached — not for mercy, but for surrender.

Someone’s.

He scoffed. “If you lose it here—”

“I’ll lose it on you,” I cut sharply.

Silence.

He knew better than to push at this time. My control was thinning — and he knew that wasn’t just dangerous, it was catastrophic.

“Fine,” he muttered, turning. “But if Father catches wind of this—”

“He won’t,” I hissed. “And besides, I don’t care.”

Gorn didn’t argue. He vanished within seconds.

I exhaled slowly, my mind drifting to one excruciatingly maddening human.

I wonder how long her father can tame her. So smart, yet too naive to see the danger surrounding her. I guess that’s what caught my attention.

Her exposed collarbone. Those infuriating eyes. That scent.

The kind that stayed even when she left.

I needed to silence it.

Gorn returned — with a vampire maid. One of Azeal’s so-called “gifts.”

I grinned inwardly, raising a brow. “You brought the best kind.”

I dragged the maid from his grasp. She gasped — in fear, not excitement.

“Good eye, brother,” I said coldly.

I drag the maid to my bed, her eyes wide with fear and desire.

She's one of father's toys, given freely. I don't need to taste her blood…I need to f**k her until I forget Kianna's scent.

"What's your name?”

She whimpers, her legs pressing together. "M-Marie," She stammers, her face flushed.

"Marie," I repeats, climbing onto the bed, ."Pretty name for a pretty maid."

I grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

I kissed her roughly, my fangs grazing her lips. Breaking the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down her neck, marking her with hickeys.

My free hand roams over her body, squeezing her breasts through her dress before sliding under it to grab her ass. "Spread your legs,”

She was fast.

Vampires always were.

No slow touches, no spoken words — just hunger meeting hunger in a dimly lit room where the curtains stayed shut, and the walls heard too much.

It wasn’t passion.

It was punishment.

I didn’t want affection.

I wanted distraction.

It wasn’t passion.

It was control.

Her blood was potent, laced with old magic. It numbed the edges of my senses, slowed the pounding in my head…quieted the roar of Kianna’s name burning through me.

But then—

The rush faded.

And the silence after was louder.

I looked at Marie.

She looked emotionally drained.

And I felt…nothing.

Worse.

I felt everything.

Her voice trembled. “You seem distracted, my lord…”

I didn’t answer.

I was already gone — shirt on, door slammed behind me.

“You didn’t answer my concubine, bastard,” Azeal’s voice echoed behind me.

I turned, meeting his fist.

Not the first time.

“You seem weak, Azeal… looks like I hurt your feelings,” I taunted.

He stared at me — not amused.

“What are you doing in my grounds?” he demanded, hatred in his eyes.

I loved it.

My lips tilted up slowly. “Soto and Voe are in the human realm. Planning something outside Council orders.”

“That’s none of our business—”

“Oh, really? Does that mean the Council is currently defying the law?”

“You broke that law the moment you were born — especially when you destroyed the Order,” he pointed, eyes turning black.

“Oh please — do you truly believe that tiny morsel of sand mixed with blood infused in a time glass would save the underworld from doom?”

He growled.

“Get the hell out of my kingdom.”

Azeal’s voice rumbled through the throne hall, ancient magic vibrating through the black stone floors.

I tilted my head.

Not in fear.

In amusement.

“Always so dramatic,” I said quietly, brushing imaginary dust from my jacket. “I expected at least a firestorm. Maybe throw me into the pillars like last time.”

His jaw twitched.

Victory.

Just a little.

“Leave,” he repeated — deeper now. “Before what’s coming finds you too.”

I turned.

Not to leave.

Just to test the air.

It shifted — like storm wind before lightning.

And then—

She stepped out.

The Queen of Red Pearl.

My stepmother.

Beautiful. Cold. Not mortal. Not vampire. Something in between — stitched with magic and suffering.

Her eyes — dark rose — landed on Azeal, then on me.

“I heard shouting,” she said calmly, though her hand trembled slightly.

I couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped.

“Finally,” I mused. “The porcelain widow speaks.”

Her gaze snapped to me — sharp. Unimpressed.

“Zane.”

I raised a brow. “You still remember my name. Touching.”

She stepped closer.

Not to embrace — but to study.

Like I was a prophecy.

Or a warning.

“You reek of human scent,” she said quietly. “But…not just any human.”

She looked almost intrigued.

Almost…concerned.

That made me pause.

I turned fully.

Azeal watched us now.

Silent.

Unreadable.

The Queen’s voice softened — barely.

“You found the girl, haven’t you?”

Air thinned.

Azeal’s gaze sharpened.

The curse.

The prophecy.

The Order’s Law.

I didn’t answer.

Which was answer enough.

She stepped closer, whisper-soft but razor sharp.

“You think you hate her now.”

“But when it binds—”

“You will destroy her…”

“Or you will destroy for her.”

Something cracked.

Not outside.

Not inside.

Somewhere in between.

“Oh please,” I scoffed. “This isn’t one of your tragic love ballads. I don’t fall in love. I break it.”

Azeal’s voice came then — low, grave.

“The moment you feel it… even for a second…”

“You’ll understand the curse wasn't meant to kill her.”

“It was meant to kill you.”

Something shifted.

I stepped back.

Not from fear.

From realization.

The Queen’s voice followed.

“You feel it already.”

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t have to.

Because everything inside me was already screaming her name.

Kianna.