Alexander stepped down from his carriage after dropping Dimitri at his newly acquired manor. Dimitri would be staying in Devaun for a while, and Alexander had made arrangements — purchasing a property just a few kilometers from the Quinn mansion, much to the lord's disapproval.
He walked through the grand halls, almost making his way upstairs to his room when—
"Alexander?"
He frowned and sighed, recognizing his mother's voice drifting from one of the lavish living rooms. Turning reluctantly, he made his way there.
Inside, he found them — his mother and Ezra, his stepfather. His jaw tightened. He strode across the room, settling into an armchair opposite them, one leg crossed over the other, his head resting lightly against his hand.
"Yes?"
Mrs. Quinn cleared her throat.
"Christine visited while you were out..." She hesitated at his indifferent expression before continuing.
"Her birthday is next week. She would like you to attend."
"Is that all?" Alexander raised a brow, already rising to his feet. He slipped his hands casually into his pockets, looking down at them coolly.
"Don't worry. I'll be there. But..." his voice sharpened, "I hope you aren't hoping to gain anything more from it."
Dichelle opened her mouth to speak, but Ezra beat her to it.
"Actually, we are. We want you to court her."
Alexander's eyes narrowed at the casual way Ezra held his mother's hand. His scowl deepened.
"Why?"
Ezra leaned back, his smile calculated.
"We believe this union could strengthen both our families. Together, we could control Devaun."
Alexander laughed — humorless and cold.
Of course. Power. That's all it ever is. That's why this parasite forced his way into the Quinn family with his wretched daughter. And my mother...too blinded by foolish love to see it.
Love. What a pathetic illusion. I'll kill him. One day, I'll watch him burn.
Ezra Hawthorne. Once his father Lucian Quinn's closest friend. Ezra had been there when Lucian succumbed to that mysterious illness — and Alexander knew, though he could never prove it, that Ezra was behind it.
And now, with his mother foolishly in love, Alexander's hands were tied.
When Dichelle had announced her intention to marry Ezra, Alexander had raged against it. Priscilla had remained calm as ever, and although part of him resented her for it, he could never bring himself to truly hate his older sister. Instead, he directed his hatred toward Ezra and his daughter.
"What do you think, Alexander?" his mother asked gently.
"You want me to marry the Duke's daughter to secure special favors? To create an empire?" His tone was mocking as he tilted his head.
"Christine is very fond of you," Dichelle pressed. "And this would ensure the extension of our bloodline. You could even become the next Duke after marriage."
Alexander listened in silence, his face unreadable. Then his eyes darkened.
"I have heard your reasons, Mother. Now hear mine." His voice dropped, soft yet thunderous.
"I have no interest in courting, much less marrying, the Duke's daughter — regardless of your ambitions. That girl was willing to whore herself just to secure my hand. I see her for what she is — the same as every other desperate woman clinging to me."
Without waiting for a response, he turned toward the staircase.
"And don't bring this matter up again. Speak to Priscilla if you need a daughter to wed — not me."
He ascended the stairs, calling for Desmine as he went. He ordered food and tea to be brought to his room, stating he would not come down again until dinner.
Dichelle sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, while Ezra merely smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"They'll announce the engagement at the birthday dinner anyway," he murmured. "We'll see how he reacts then."
Dichelle nodded, hope flickering in her eyes.
---
Alexander entered his room with a faint smile, hoping to find his little bunny waiting for him.
"Bunny? Little Bunny?" he called.
No answer.
"Artemis?"
Silence. Until —
hiccup.
He frowned and followed the sound to the bathroom. There, in the tub, he found her — knees pulled to her chest, hair covering her face.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, folding his arms.
"What are you doing?" he asked, amused.
Artemis said nothing, mumbling incoherently. She had heard him approaching earlier and, panicked, had hidden herself in the tub after placing the now-empty bottle back in the glass case.
Alexander crouched by the tub.
"Look up, bunny," he commanded softly.
Artemis flinched.
He frowned. That wasn't like her.
Reaching out, he gently lifted her chin — and froze when he saw her flushed face and reddened ears.
"Welcome..." she hiccupped, quickly covering her mouth, "Welcome back, Master."
He straightened slowly, his brow raising.
"I-I can explain, Master—!"
"Explain what?" he smirked.
Her eyes darted wildly, and then — she bolted.
She almost made it past him before he caught her around the waist, hauling her effortlessly back against him.
"What did you do while I was gone, little bunny?" he whispered against her ear.
"N-N-Nothing! I swear!"
He lowered his face to her neck and inhaled.
"Oh?" His voice rumbled.
Artemis squealed.
"Where did you find it?" he murmured.
"Find wh-what?" she tried, voice trembling.
"The glass case."
"What glass case?"
"Don't play with me, pet." His tone sharpened, and she froze.
"I...I'm sorry. I didn't...I don't know what came over me..." she mumbled miserably.
Alexander chuckled darkly.
How can I stay mad when she's this adorable?
He nuzzled her neck and led her gently back to the bed. Leaving her momentarily, he retrieved an empty bottle from the balcony and waved it in front of her pale face.
"Did you enjoy it?" he teased.
Her eyes widened — and suddenly, she burst into tears.
Alexander froze — genuinely stunned.
"I-I-I didn't mean to!" she cried, babbling hysterically, "I just saw the case and the bottles... and there were so many! I thought you wouldn't notice just one, and — and — the strawberry one smelled so nice, and then I couldn't stop drinking it, and — and — I heard you coming so I hid!"
She sniffled pitifully.
Alexander simply stood there, blinking.
She... was drunk off her little feet. Rambling. Confessing. Crying.
And the only coherent thought in his mind was: She likes strawberries.
He laughed. A full, deep laugh that startled Artemis into hiccuping again.
"You're unbelievable, bunny," he said, wiping a tear of amusement from the corner of his eye.
Artemis blinked up at him, confused — and a little hopeful.
"I...I'm not in trouble?"
Alexander's grin turned wicked.
"Oh, you're in big trouble."
Artemis squeaked and tried to scramble backward, but she was too tipsy. She flopped back onto the bed with a groan.
Alexander chuckled again and sat beside her, gently covering her with the sheets.
What a strange little creature.
He looked down at the empty bottle in his hand — Pureblood Wine, crafted for pureblood vampires who had gone too long without feeding. Strong, almost lethal for humans.
Yet Artemis had drunk the entire bottle — and was now just... drunk and sleepy.
No human should have survived that.
His gaze trailed from her flushed face, down to her soft lips, then lower to the delicate curve of her neck. His fangs throbbed.
He exhaled slowly.
Such a dangerous little thing.