Chapter 63: Kayla’s Grudge

Zaeryn’s mind went blank for a second before instinct took over. He kissed her back, meeting her intensity with his own. His hands slid down to her hips, cupping her ass lightly, feeling the smooth curve under his palms. Marceline’s soft gasp vibrated against his mouth, only fueling the heat between them.Marceline giggled against his lips, a soft, breathy sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Wow... you just keep getting bolder and bolder, don’t you?"

"Hey, I’m just responding to your... encouragement," he teased.

She pressed closer, and resumed kissing him, her body molding against his, fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. Every movement was deliberate, every touch charged, the air around them thick with desire and tension.

Just then, Kayla came back into the atrium after she had stepped out. And the view that greeted her was not something she was happy to see.

Although she had seen them share innocent kisses before and it was a normal greeting, this was different, more charged with sexual energy and it made her frown deepen into a mask of something.

Kayla’s jaw clenched. She always hated this. It was like everyone seemed to look at him as some sort of chosen one who should be pampered and cuddled. And now even more than that, they seemed to have some sort of sexual chemistry with him, which was grating on her even more.

To say this was the only reason she despised Zaeryn would be a lie. Her dislike had roots deeper than his charm, twisted into the wreckage of her family’s dreams. Before him, House Noctis had purpose. Marceline had a sharp ambition, Ysmeine had a quiet determination, and Kayla herself, was training to carve their name into the kingdom’s nobility. They were a force, united, chasing power and prestige.

Then Zaeryn arrived, a storm in human form, and everything shifted. Ysmeine, her sister, was the first to fall. She abandoned noble college, her eyes starry with devotion to him.

The dream of elevating House Noctis to greatness crumbled, leaving Kayla, the iron-willed warlady, as the sole torchbearer. But it wasn’t just Ysmeine. Even Aeris, her fierce niece, traded her warlady’s armor just so she could spend more time with Zaeryn.

To Kayla, he wasn’t a savior—he was a thief, stealing futures and leaving chaos in his wake.

She walked further into the atrium, her boots clicking sharply against the polished floor. "Hey," she said, her voice a low blade, cutting through the haze of Marceline’s flirtation with Zaeryn.

They stopped Marceline’s hand lingering on his chest as they turned to her.

Kayla sank into a chair, her posture rigid, her eyes pinning Zaeryn. "Does your girlfriend know about your little royal family connection?"

Zaeryn straightened. "No. I haven’t told her yet. So, I think we should be careful speaking about it around her. I’ll tell her when I think it’s the right time."

Marceline tilted her head, her synth-coffee mug hovering near her lips. "Honey, that’s no small secret. I’d keep it close a little longer if I were you."

Zaeryn nodded. He trusted Sage. She had a sharp mind and sharper loyalty, but some risks weren’t worth taking. Not yet.

​Just then, Ysmeine and Aeris returned to the atrium, walking side-by-side in an animated discussion.

​"I’m telling you, she’s just too secretive," Aeris said, gesturing emphatically. "There’s no way the writers are setting her up as just a loyal guard. She absolutely has something to do with the Queen’s death."

​Ysmeine shook her head, a thoughtful smile on her lips. "The foreshadowing all points to the Chancellor, darling. That scene with the unsigned military directive? That was too deliberate to be a red herring."

​"Uhh, what are you two talking about?" Zaeryn cut in, looking between them with an amused frown.

​Aeris rolled her eyes dramatically, turning to him. "Gods, Zaeryn, keep up. We’re talking about Royal Reckoning. Mom thinks Chancellor Valerius is the killer, but I know it’s the Royal Guard, Lady Vespera. She’s been hiding something since episode one."

​"It’s the season finale next week," Aeris added, her tone invested in the way only a true fan’s could be.

Zaeryn nodded slowly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, that." Not one to miss an opportunity to stir the pot, he let out a theatrical sigh. "I never watch it. I’m pretty sure I outgrew my teen angst phase years ago, and I don’t need a show where everyone whispers dramatically in dark rooms to remind me of it."

"Teen angst?!" Aeris shot back, placing her hands on her hips in mock outrage. "It’s a complex exploration of political subterfuge and moral ambiguity! You just don’t like it because you have to actually think while watching it."

Zaeryn grinned. "My brainpower is reserved for more important things. Like what I’m having for lunch."

Ysmeine chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, you two. Ceasefire."

"Speaking of secrets," Zaeryn said, his voice steady but carrying a weight that made the air hum, "there’s something you both should know. I can wield Vitae."

The room went still, the kind of silence that swallows sound. Marceline’s mug froze midair, her green eyes wide, the coffee’s synthetic steam curling like a ghost. Kayla’s hand, resting on her thigh, curled into a fist.

She broke the silence with a laugh, sharp and venomous. "That’s a pathetic joke, Zaeryn. A male wielding Vitae? Impossible. Stop fishing for attention."

A frown made its way towards Zaeryn’s face. Of course. She never missed a chance to throw an insult his way, it made Zaeryn hate her for that.

"He’s not lying," Ysmeine interjected, her voice a hushed spark in the tension. "He showed me yesterday. It’s real."

Kayla’s eyes narrowed. "Prove it," she demanded, her tone a challenge wrapped in ice.

Zaeryn’s face hardened, no trace of his usual playfulness. He raised a hand, his focus palpable, and a faint golden wisp sparked to life between his fingers. It flickered, fragile but undeniable, dancing in the morning light before fading like a dying star. The room seemed to hold its breath.

Kayla stared, her usual cold mask shattered by a flicker of something. Shock? Fascination? Well, shock was the correct word, but so is fascination. She never would have thought something like this was ever possible. A male with Vitae? That too, Zaeryn?

She leaned forward, her gaze dissecting the space where the energy had been. "Unusual doesn’t even begin to cover it," she muttered, her voice low, dangerous.

Ysmeine’s lips curved into a mischievous grin, her eyes glinting with delight. "He can mimic Vitae signatures from those... close to him." She paused, savoring the moment. "And through sex too."

Marceline choked on her coffee, a rare crack in her poised facade. "You’re telling me," she said, "he gets this power through sex? If I didn’t know better, I’d say the little deviant crafted that trick himself."

Zaeryn’s hand raked through his hair, a nervous tic. "It’s not like that. It’s... complicated. Also, I don’t need to have sex. I need a bond to absorb it."

Some time passed and now Kayla and Marceline had finally processed everything. Especially for Kayla, it was hard to believe at first, but with a demonstration, she couldn’t argue against it. He was a Vitae wielder, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Whose Vitae signature did you just mimic?" she asked. Not knowing how to feel about all this.

"That signature?" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "It’s Daphne’s. A chief scientist at the citadel."

Just then, the atrium door hissed open. Sage and Ravena stepped back inside together.

The air between them seemed to have cooled into an uneasy truce, but the tension still clung to them like a second skin.

"Oh, you two are back." Ysmeine commented.

Ravena’s lips curled into a smile. "Yes. Sage... made me understand something." She revealed.