The flight to Moscow was tense.
Kieran sat beside Adrian in the private jet, his hand never leaving Adrian's thigh. Across from them, Marcus reviewed intelligence reports while Wei dozed, her head against the window.
"Konstantin has ruled Russia's vampire population for eighteen centuries," Marcus said, not looking up from his tablet. "He survived the Mongol invasions, the fall of the Romanovs, Stalin's purges, and the collapse of the Soviet Union. He's paranoid, powerful, and has a network of informants that rivals any intelligence agency."
"How do we get to him?" Adrian asked.
"We don't. He comes to us." Kieran's jaw was tight. "Konstantin is old-fashioned. He believes in vampire nobility, in the superiority of ancient bloodlines. When he learns I'm hunting him, he'll challenge me directly. It's a matter of pride."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we burn his empire to the ground until he has no choice but to face us."
Wei opened one eye. "I like the way you think, Ashford."
They landed in Moscow at midnight, the city glittering with lights against the winter darkness. The temperature was brutal—twenty degrees below zero—but none of them seemed bothered except Adrian, who shivered despite his heavy coat.
"Soon you won't feel the cold," Kieran said, wrapping an arm around him. "Vampires don't regulate temperature the same way humans do."
"Can't wait to not freeze my ass off," Adrian muttered.
They checked into a hotel—a historic building that had once been a noble's palace. Kieran had reserved the entire top floor, ensuring privacy and security.
"Konstantin knows we're here," Marcus reported within an hour. "He's sent a message. He wants to meet tomorrow night at the Bolshoi Theatre. Neutral ground, no weapons, just talk."
"It's a trap," Wei said immediately.
"Of course it's a trap." Kieran smiled, and it wasn't pleasant. "But it's also an opportunity. Konstantin's ego won't let him back down from a direct confrontation. We accept, we prepare, and we end this tomorrow."
That night, Adrian couldn't sleep. He stood at the window, watching snow fall over Moscow's ancient streets, thinking about what came after. After Konstantin. After Morgana. After the transformation.
Kieran appeared behind him, wrapping his arms around Adrian's waist and pulling him back against his chest.
"Nervous?" Kieran asked quietly.
"Terrified," Adrian admitted. "Not of dying—I've done that before, apparently. But of... changing. Becoming something different. What if I'm not me anymore?"
"You'll always be you. The transformation changes your body, your abilities, but not your soul. Not who you are at your core." Kieran pressed a kiss to Adrian's neck. "I've watched nine of your lifetimes. You were different each time—different faces, different circumstances—but your essence remained. Your kindness, your stubborn courage, your terrible sense of humor. Those things don't change."
Adrian laughed wetly. "My sense of humor isn't terrible."
"It really is."
They stood together in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall, both acutely aware that this might be one of their last peaceful moments before everything changed.
"Make love to me," Adrian said suddenly. "One more time before tomorrow. Before everything gets complicated."
Kieran turned him around, cupping his face with cold hands. "Are you sure? You need rest—"
"I'm sure. I need you. Need to feel alive and real and connected to you."
Kieran's eyes flashed red, then he kissed Adrian with a desperation that spoke of a thousand years of longing finally, temporarily, satisfied. They stumbled toward the bed, shedding clothes in a trail across the expensive carpet.
What followed was slow and intense. Kieran took his time, as if memorizing every gasp, every shiver, every way Adrian's body responded to his touch. His hands were everywhere—possessive and gentle simultaneously—mapping Adrian's skin like territory he owned.
"Mine," Kieran whispered against Adrian's throat, his fangs grazing but not piercing. "You're mine. In this life and every other."
"Yours," Adrian agreed, arching into the touch. "Always yours."
When Kieran finally entered him, they both groaned at the sensation. Kieran moved with controlled precision, each thrust calculated to drive Adrian slowly insane with pleasure. His vampire strength was leashed, careful, ensuring Adrian felt pleasure and not pain.
"Kieran," Adrian gasped, his nails digging into Kieran's shoulders. "Please, I need—"
"I know what you need." Kieran's hand wrapped around Adrian, stroking in time with his thrusts. "Let go. I've got you."
Adrian came with a cry, and Kieran followed moments later, burying his face in Adrian's neck as his body shuddered with release.
After, they lay tangled together, sweaty and satisfied and completely content.
"No matter what happens tomorrow," Adrian said sleepily, "I want you to know I don't regret any of this. Meeting you, choosing this life, falling in love with you again."
Kieran's arms tightened around him. "I love you. More than I've ever loved anything across a millennium of existence."
"I love you too."
They fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other, stealing a few hours of peace before the storm.