The clarity came to Rey suddenly and all at once.

The King had bundled him into his arms, wrapped almost tenderly in his Majesty's opulent cloak. The remaining staff looked on with an eerie, awed set of expressions as he was whisked through the back hallways of the estate, trembling and breathing heavily.

Rey still felt like something was buzzing beneath his skin. His clothes were soggy and itchy with drying blood, the resplendent, embroidered ivory sleeves of his torn shirt crunchy to the touch.

He didn’t remember leaving the ballroom, didn’t remember anything beyond the surge of relief as the King’s fangs sliced into his neck and the warmth of Rey’s overheated veins as the King drank.

How had the King gotten here? He remembered some weird incantation from Sophia, something soft and foreign to his ears. Some sort of blood magic?

Why the hell wasn’t he freaking out more at the idea of blood magic?

Before Rey could voice any of his questions they’d been sequestered away in a room not unlike his back home in the residence. 

“Leo,” Aden, more frazzled than Rey had seen him, said as he rushed in behind them. The formalities had apparently melted away. Sophia slipped in behind her brother, closing the door with an almost inaudible ‘click.’ “Do you suspect he’s —” 

The King finally looked down at him, red eyes assessing and…sad. “He must be. There hasn’t been a human with mana sufficient enough to awaken in more than a century. He was the last.”

“Who?” Rey asked, finally. His voice was hoarse. He wiped flaking blood from the corners of his lips with a calloused hand. “What is everyone talking about?”

“Lord Freymore,” Sophia said, with an apologetic look at the King. “He was a vampiric ally, and the last awakened human. He grew up with his Highness as an agent of the court. His father and mother were closely tied to the prior King.”

“You must be a relation,” Aden concluded. He fixed his braid, neatening the cravat that had come undone around his slender neck. “There’s nothing else that could explain such a sudden transformation. A bond was the only choice, or without proper training and preparation, you would have died.”

“A bond?” Rey answered, the word lingering on his tongue. The sluggish blood he had left fled to his cheeks, pinking without his permission. “That’s right, we —”

A bond. Now that he could think, he remembered the books he’d spent the better part of the month reviewing for Sophia's celebration. Vampiric etiquette. History. Anything to make him seem more like an organic part of their world. He could still remember the section on bonds for its unusual brevity.

They were considered a relic, but centuries ago they’d been key in establishing ceasefire and peace negotiations. They tied a human to a vampire partner, ensuring the human’s safety by cementing them as the only tolerable blood partner. Other blood donors would gradually weaken the vampire until they died of starvation.

In return, both human and vampire were stronger. Healthier and hard to kill, with enhanced mana and other ancillary benefits.

They were breakable, but it was painful and sometimes fatal.

It was, for all intents and purposes, a permanent political marriage arrangement.

“You are my lord and liege, Lord Reynold,” Aden said, falling to one knee. He crossed a gloved hand, stained with Rey’s blood, over where his heart should be. “From here forward, you are our honored moon and reigning monarch alongside His Highness. If you require my aid, you need only ask.”

Rey blinked owlishly at Aden and Sophia, the last dredges of sunlight leaking in from behind the curtains, the King’s strong arms holding him close.

Well.

Damn.