Chapter 8 alastor
The battle had turned against us so quickly that I barely had time to think.
Steel clashed. Screams split the air. The scent of blood—demon and vampire alike—hung thick and suffocating over the field. I was seconds from surrendering ground when a flash of gold cut through the chaos.
An angel descended like a streak of sunlight through storm clouds.
With swift, merciless precision, he cut down the demons pinning Lexie and Destiny to the ground. His blade shimmered with holy light as it sliced through their armor as if it were paper.
The demons didn’t even have time to scream.
He turned, offering a hand to Lexie first, then Destiny.
“My name is Angel,” he said calmly. His hair was a brilliant blond, the ends dipped in gold as if they’d been brushed by the sun itself.
Destiny dusted herself off and smiled. “Angel, this is Lexie.”
Lexie nodded in thanks, still catching her breath. Dirt streaked her cheek, and a small cut marked her temple, but she stood tall.
“Alastor, behind you!” she suddenly yelled.
I spun just as a demon soldier lunged for my back. I drove my blade forward, feeling it sink into the creature’s chest. The demon’s eyes widened before it crumbled at my feet.
A slow clap echoed across the battlefield.
Olsen.
He stepped forward, sword resting lazily against his shoulder, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re a pathetic vampire,” he sneered. “And a pathetic prince.”
He swung at me without warning.
I blocked, metal shrieking against metal. Sparks flew between us as we exchanged blow after blow. His strength was monstrous—but not unmatched.
“Captain!” one of the younger soldiers shouted, his voice trembling. “We’re overpowered! We need to retreat and regroup!”
Olsen smirked at that.
I met his gaze and smirked back.
“Fine,” Olsen spat, stepping away. “Demons, retreat!”
With a collective hiss of frustration, they fled into the shadows.
Silence slowly replaced the chaos.
I lowered my sword, scanning the field. Fallen soldiers lay scattered across the torn earth. Too many.
“Lexie!” I called, panic creeping into my voice before I could stop it.
“Over here!” she answered.
Relief flooded me as I ran toward her.
She stood beside Destiny and Angel, helping bandage a wounded vampire soldier. When she looked up at me, something in her eyes softened.
“We lost a lot of angels and vampire soldiers,” she said quietly.
Angel and Destiny joined us.
“I’m sending everyone home on the next train out,” I said firmly. “The wounded first.”
Lexie hesitated. “I need to send a letter to some of my friends and family.”
“You can use the paper and pen in my office,” I told her.
We walked together through the battered camp. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows over tents and fallen banners. Soldiers moved quietly, exhaustion weighing on every step.
Inside my office tent, Lexie sat at my desk while I stood nearby, watching her write.
Her handwriting was careful, deliberate.
She told her parents she was safe. That she was okay. That she had met her mate.
My chest tightened at those words.
“Who are Mimsy and Vincent?” I asked gently as she folded another letter.
“My best friend and her mate,” she replied with a faint smile. “Mimsy’s a demon, and Vincent’s a merman.”
“Interesting pair.”
She laughed softly, and the sound eased something inside me that I hadn’t realized was tense.
When she finished, she handed the stack of letters to a paper boy waiting outside.
“Be safe,” she told him kindly.
He nodded and ran off toward the station.
Destiny entered the tent with Angel close behind her. I looked up.
“Thank you for your help,” I told him sincerely.
He inclined his head. “I came to say goodbye. But we’ll be in touch.”
He turned to Destiny, offering her a playful grin. “See you soon, sunshine.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her.
After he left, Destiny crossed her arms. “The next train leaves in three hours. We can send half the soldiers now.”
I nodded. “The rest will go tomorrow.”
She left to organize the evacuation, and soon it was just Lexie and me.
“You need to go with them, little deer,” I told her quietly.
She shook her head immediately. “I’m not leaving you, Alastor.”
The certainty in her voice startled me.
“You’d be safer—”
“I belong at your side.”
Those words wrapped around my undead heart like warmth.
I stepped closer to her. “You don’t have to prove your loyalty to me.”
“I’m not,” she whispered. “I just… choose you.”
For a moment, the war faded away.
“What can I do to help?” she asked gently.
I moved to my desk and handed her a stack of papers. “Help me write letters to the families of the soldiers we lost today.”
Her expression softened with understanding.
“You take the top half,” she said. “I’ll take the bottom.”
We worked in silence, broken only by the scratching of quills and the distant rumble of trains arriving at the station.
Every so often, our hands brushed when reaching for ink.
The first time it happened, she froze.
So did I.
Her fingers were warm.
Mine were not.
She didn’t pull away.
Instead, she laced her fingers with mine briefly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before returning to her letter.
It was such a small gesture.
But it felt monumental.
Hours later, we finished.
Lexie leaned back, stretching her arms above her head with a soft groan. “I didn’t realize how many we lost.”
“Neither did I,” I admitted.
She stood and walked toward me. Without hesitation, she rested her head lightly against my chest.
At first, I stiffened.
Vampires were not creatures of comfort.
But slowly, I relaxed.
My hand came up, hesitating only a second before resting at her waist.
“You carry so much,” she murmured.
“I am their prince. It’s my duty.”
“And who carries you?” she asked softly.
The question lingered between us.
Her hand slid over my chest, right where a human heart would beat.
“I do,” she whispered.
I swallowed.
Carefully, I tilted her chin up with two fingers. Her eyes searched mine—not with fear, but with trust.
“You should be on that train,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
“I told you,” she replied. “I’m not leaving you.”
The tent felt smaller suddenly. Warmer.
I brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.
“You are braver than you realize, little deer.”
She smiled faintly. “And you’re kinder than you pretend to be.”
A rare laugh escaped me.
I leaned down slowly, giving her every chance to step away.
She didn’t.
Our foreheads touched first.
Then my lips brushed hers.
Soft. Careful.
It wasn’t the kiss of a prince claiming anything.
It was the kiss of someone afraid to lose what he’d found.
She kissed me back, her fingers curling into the fabric of my coat. It deepened slightly—still gentle, but filled with unspoken promises.
When we finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed.
“I have an extra cot in my tent,” I said quietly. “If you don’t mind sharing.”
“That’s fine,” she answered, her voice warm.
We stepped out into the cool night air. The first train whistle echoed in the distance as soldiers boarded under Destiny’s supervision.
Inside my tent, Lexie shifted, her form calming as she returned fully to her more human-like appearance. The faint glow around her faded.
She looked exhausted.
“Thank you for helping us today,” I said softly.
“You’re welcome, Alastor,” she replied, stifling a yawn.
I removed my coat and draped it over her shoulders before she could protest.
She climbed onto the cot, and I lay beside her, careful to leave space.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then she shifted closer.
Tentatively, she rested her head on my shoulder.
My arm wrapped around her instinctively.
“Goodnight, little deer,” I murmured.
“Goodnight, my prince,” she whispered back.
Outside, the camp slowly quieted as the first train departed.
Inside the tent, her breathing evened out as sleep claimed her.
I stared at the canvas ceiling for a long time, listening to the soft sound of her breaths, feeling the warmth of her body against mine.
For the first time since the war began, I didn’t feel alone.
And when sleep finally found me, it wasn’t haunted by battle.
It was filled with the promise that no matter how dark the war became—
She had chosen to stay.