Tessa Carlston—the only woman in the room who could pull off a pristine uniform and a death glare at the sa ti—rose to her feet.
"How dare you insult your captain like that, you filthy toad?" she snapped. "Don’t you dare compare our hard-working captain to a sleaze like you, you oinking pig!"
The man coughed awkwardly and adjusted his rings.
Selis arched a brow. Well, well . . . protective much?
Tessa was Lucian’s second-in-command—and according to campfire gossip, possibly his future wife, although Lucian himself had never confird anything about it.
Tessa was stunning—white hair like moonlight and a figure that could launch a thousand ships . . . and maybe capsize a few just for the drama.
But to Lucian, she held all the appeal of a museum statue. Unless she was a vampire he had to kill, she may as well have been invisible.
Selis had never seen the man express interest in anyone, unless silently judging soone’s sword stance counted as flirting.
Lucian, for his part, simply raised one hand. The room imdiately fell into reverent silence as his eyes swept across them all like a blade being drawn.
"Whether she’s my woman or not," he said flatly, "is irrelevant. I don’t see any reason for anyone here to deny her entrance into my squad. I’m not asking for permission. I’m here to inform you."
And just like that, the eting was over.
Lucian turned and walked out without waiting for a response—because of course he did. What was anyone going to do? Argue? Challenge him? Commit career suicide?
The room stayed dead quiet . . . until Selis stood up, flashed a very smug grin at Tessa, and strutted after him.
But not before leaning slightly toward Tessa and whispering, "So . . . does this an I’m your junior now? Or are we sister wives?"
Tessa’s jaw clenched hard enough to crack a tooth.
"You’ll be assigned to errand duty," she said through gritted teeth. "If you slow us down—even once—I’ll personally execute you."
Selis just chuckled. "Nice to et you too, second in command."
Tessa’s response was a hard glare.
====
Being part of Lucian’s squad was like signing a full-ti contract with death — no health insurance, no hazard pay, just nonstop danger and a daily serving of near-death experiences.
And for soone like Selis, who barely had a year of vampire-hunting training under her belt, it was less glorious warrior of justice and more perpetual liability in leather boots.
In just her first month, she’d:
Mistaken a vampire nest for a wine cellar (they don’t age well in barrels, apparently),
Triggered a bloodhound trap by stepping on what she swore was just a "fancy tile,"
And on one particularly infamous mission, accidentally hit Lucian in the back with her crossbow bolt after getting spooked by a bat.
Not a vampire — an actual bat.
And yet . . . she was still breathing. Why?
Lucian.
The man had the reflexes of a cat with caffeine addiction and the patience of soone who had clearly lived too long.
Every ti she slipped up, he’d be there — swooping in at the last second, sword gleaming, coat billowing like so grim reaper who also happened to do babysitting work.
But not everyone found her . . . endearing.
Tessa, the elite squad mber with cheekbones sharp enough to slice garlic, watched every rescue like she was ntally adding up Selis’s debt in souls.
Every ti Lucian dragged Selis out of another ss, Tessa’s eye twitched.
Selis was sure it was only a matter of ti before Tessa tried to "accidentally" leave her behind in a crypt sowhere. Preferably with sothing ancient, hungry, and missing half its jaw.
Still, Selis trudged on.
Because surviving in Lucian’s squad wasn’t about being the best.
It was about not dying faster than Lucian could save you.
And hey — so far, she was just barely winning that race.
====
"You’re dragging us down," Tessa said, her voice slicing through the campfire’s warm crackle like a cold dagger.
They were deep in the forest, surrounded by the scent of moss, blood, and smoke after successfully wiping out a vampire nest that had plagued a nearby town.
The team was resting for the night, or trying to—until Tessa decided Selis was a more irritating pest than the actual bloodsuckers.
"I don’t know what Captain sees in you," Tessa continued, arms crossed tightly under her chest, hip cocked in that sharp, model-on-a-mission curve. "But I don’t see any potential at all."
Selis, sitting under a large tree with her back against the bark and rabbit at skewered on a twig, didn’t even flinch. She was mid-bite, savoring the smoky flavor like it was gourt cuisine.
"Of course you don’t see it," Selis said with a chuckle, licking grease off her fingers. "You’re not Lucian."
Tessa’s eye twitched. "That’s Captain to you."
Selis shrugged, taking another bite. "Lucian doesn’t complain when I call him by na."
"What are you to him?" Tessa asked sharply, narrowing her eyes.
Selis blinked. "What do you an?" she asked, chewing noisily.
"Don’t play dumb with . I know Captain didn’t put you on this squad because you were so kind of prodigy." Tessa leaned forward, voice low but sharp. "He’s risked his life for you—multiple tis. And each ti, it puts the rest of us in danger."
Selis tilted her head. "So . . . you’re jealous?"
Tessa’s face turned a shade of red that could compete with fresh vampire guts.
For a second, Selis genuinely thought the woman might throttle her, snap her neck, and toss her to the wolves with a note pinned to her shirt: "Tripped on root. Sorry."
"Don’t push your luck," Tessa growled. "If Captain gets seriously injured because of you, I swear—I will kill you myself."
"Got it," Selis said, casually picking her teeth with the twig.
Tessa glared harder. But it was like trying to intimidate a particularly smug potato.
Selis just stared back, unbothered, relaxed, the kind of calm that infuriated people who were trying very hard not to punch her.
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