“Can I keep him, Daddy?”

If the door slamming open hadn’t woken him, Kar’un’s pleading question certainly did.

Reed lifted his head from the floor. He’d gotten tired of sitting against the bed and lay down, stretching out into the center of her room, wrist cuffed to the bottom of her bed.

What stood in the doorway was a man with long silver hair and crimson eyes. Kar’un clung to his arm, shaking it.

“Is… that…” the man said haltingly, his sharp fangs flashing in his mouth as he stared down at Reed in horror.

“Please, Daddy? I’ll take good care of him!”

“I ain’t a pet,” Reed grumbled and slowly gathered himself up. “This wasn’t very nice.” He rattled the cuff against the bed.

"I didn't want you running away!" Kar'un defended, pouting as she looked down at him. 

"I wasn't gonna!" Reed objected. He wiped his face and addressed the man who looked remarkably like a vampire. “Sir, I would like to have a civilized conversation with you, if you could please talk her into that?”

Kar'un pouted. "You ran away from the other princesses, though,” she grumbled, then looked up at the vampire man.

“Ran away?” The vampire man was having a hard time processing the situation, apparently.

"Yes. And I had my reasons, which I’d be glad to explain. But this is rather awkward. Could you please?" Reed gestured with his cuffed hand.

Kar'un huffed, deciding to stop waiting for her father’s permission and knelt next to him. 

"Wait. Kar'un. He could try to kill you!" the vampire man objected as Karun drew with her nail across the top of the cuffs.

Reed watched closely even as he answered the man. "Why would I do that now? I had plenty of chance to before." With his wrist free, Reed rubbed it and stood.

The man took a step back. "Kar'un, come over here."

Instead, she wrapped her arms around Reed's waist, snuggling against him. Reed patted her head. “Aite now, Kar’un. You gotta act like an adult.”

Her nails dug into him as she growled. She let him go after a second, thankfully without causing further damage to his shirt. “I just… I’ve never felt like this before!” She looked up at him, eyes watering. “I’m supposed to hate you! But this isn’t hate. This is…” she pressed her hands to her chest, blushing. “I just want to look at you all the time!”

Reed smiled, made a decision and brushed her bangs away from her forehead. “I get that, sweetheart. And that’s my fault. You can sit with us while we talk. Aite?”

She beamed at him.

Well, shit. That’s adorable.

He looked at the vampire man. “So how about it? We talk?”

“But you’re the Astralitar. You’re supposed to be the instrument of our destruction,” the man said, shoulders set now. He’d gotten over the initial shock and was now on the defensive.

“Hmm. Okay. So throw out everything you know about Astralitars,” Reed said. “Because there’s only two things that are important this time around.”

The man ground his teeth, waiting.

Reed lifted a finger. “The princesses pissed off the gods.”

Crimson eyes widening, the vampire’s hostile posture relaxed back into shock.

Reed lifted a second finger with a grin. “I’m their punishment.”

**

Dylan sat on the couch. The four princesses faced him on couches in positions that were familiar, but everything about this situation felt wrong. Meg’ante was clearly hurt. Amel’issa wouldn’t look at him. Saffron had her fan out and was peering at him calculatingly over it. Snow was still unconscious from when she’d fainted.

“What’s going on?” Dylan asked again, desperate for some information.

“What do you… remember?” Meg’ante asked, her voice stuffy.

“We were having the contest…” He glanced down at the wet t-shirt clinging to her breasts.

Saffron spoke then, “And that’s it?”

“I…” Dylan glanced away. “I had a nosebleed,” he admitted sheepishly. “I think I blacked out a little.”

“You didn’t black out,” Amel’issa said.

Meg’ante swatted her shoulder to shut her up.

Jumping to her feet, the Feliz stepped over the coffee table and ran to the other side of the room. “No. I can’t!” she shouted. Ears laid back, she looked at Dylan.

Saffron jumped to her feet with a threatening glare. “Don’t you dare.”

“He deserves to know! He’ll find out anyway!” Amel’issa shouted. “You know Snow will eventually tell him.”

Meg’ante rubbed her eyes carefully. “She’s right. What’re we gonna do? Lock him up?”

“This clearly means the gods are not angry,” Saffron said. “We’ve not been abandoned.”

“I don’t understand,” Dylan said, gripping the arms of his chair. “Please explain!” This was how it always was with these girls. They talked over his head. They talked around him.

“You died.”

Everyone turned to look. Snow had woken up.

“The Demon Lord attacked. You shielded us, and she tore you apart.” Snow sat up, pushing her long, dark hair behind her shoulder.

“But he’s fine now,” Saffron said. “He can make the choice, we can get rid of the Demon Lord, and put everything in its place.”

“Except Reed isn’t dead,” Snow pointed out. “We have two Astralitars, and I doubt Dylan is here because the gods have forgiven us.” She slowly stood, hand to her forehead. She looked exhausted.

Her pronouncement sent a shock through the other princesses.

“But the Demon Lord took him,” Amel’issa said. “How… why didn’t she kill him?”

Snow dropped her hand. “Because she’s under his spell too.” She glared at Saffron. “I hope you realize that this is all your fault.”

“My fault!?” Saffron shouted in shock.

Dylan pressed his hands to his head. This was… too much.

“Two Astralitars? I died?”

“Dylan!” Saffron shouted. “Just choose me. We’ll go do the ceremony, and all this will be settled.”

He lifted his gaze to look at her, balking at the idea of going through with the ceremony.

“No!” Snow shouted. “You’re not going to get away with that anymore.” She stepped over, putting herself between Saffron and Dylan.

Saffron stalked closer, jabbing Snow in the chest with her folded fan. “Really? And you are going to stop me? You ineffectual, simpering twat.”

Standing, Dylan put his hands on Snow’s shoulders to steady her. “Saffron, that’s very mean to say.”

“Shut it!” Saffron snapped, then recovered her temper. “Dylan. You’ve never really understood the politics between our nations. And that’s alright. You don’t need to. But this is a matter you’re just not qualified to weigh in on.”

Dylan stared at her in shock. This, too, had been an irritation he couldn’t ever quite stomach. Saffron had always demanded he choose her because she “understood the political situation” better than anyone, but she wouldn’t ever explain it to him. This… was the first time she’d straight out said it, though. “I need to think about it more,” he said. “This is all a lot. I can’t just make a decision like that when… when I’m apparently back from the dead.” But his excuse was wearing thin, and even Dylan knew it. He’d been with these women for two years. He liked each of them for different reasons, but choosing one… seemed impossible. However, Saffron’s behavior was starting to make it slightly easier.

Meg’ante suddenly stood and started limping away.

“Where are you going?” Saffron demanded.

“To get my wounds healed.”

Amel’issa’s ears couldn’t stay up or down and constantly flicked back and forth in distress. She rushed away, heading for her room, and slammed the door.

Snow, trembling beneath his hands, boldly faced Saffron in a show of strength he’d never seen from her before. She gently pushed his support away, though, and turned to face him. “Dylan,” she said gently. “Please… Run away.”

Saffron gasped.

“R—”

“Go.” Snow insisted, she pushed gently. “Run. Get away from here. Go as far away as you can. Just leave!”

“Dylan! You cannot leave,” Saffron said desperately. Eyes wide, she looked around, then got an idea. Snapping her gaze back to Snow, she smirked as she raised her voice in distress, “Guards!”

Shocked, Dylan backed away a step, tripping over the chair he’d been seated in.

Guards rushed into the sitting area at Saffron’s call, then stared at Dylan in shock.

“Arrest him!” Saffron said. “This impostor must be detained!”

“Run!” Snow shouted at him desperately.

White light flashed around him. He recognized her shield spell. Still shocked, Dylan hesitated to move.

The guards sorted themselves out much faster, though, and leveled spears toward him.

“Please,” Snow begged, “Trust me. Run.”

That was his final straw.

Dylan turned and sprinted for the balcony. He knew they were several stories up, but there was a deep lake just beneath.

The guards nearly caught him as he launched over the balustrade, adjusted his angle, and hit the water in a perfect high-dive.