The pool deck was loud with laughter and splashing, the kind of chaos that made executives loosen their collars and interns forget their titles. Crates were being passed in a relay game, team names shouted across the water. Lucas had planned to stay on the sidelines—visible, but uninvolved.
But Riven had other plans.
“Come on, stop being presidential for five minutes,” Riven said, grinning as he shoved a crate into Lucas’s hands.
Lucas rolled his eyes, stepped forward, and lifted the crate.
It was heavier than expected. The edge caught his shirt—ripped it slightly, collar tugged down.
He didn’t notice at first.
But Alistair did.
His father had arrived without warning—no announcement, no entourage. Just presence. He stood near the edge of the deck, arms folded, gaze sharp. And now, that gaze was locked on Lucas’s collarbone.
On the seal.
Crimson-gold.
Bright.
Alive.
Lucas froze.
Alistair’s expression didn’t shift, but his posture did. He stepped forward slowly, like approaching something volatile.
“That’s not possible,” he said quietly.
Lucas didn’t speak.
“No one in our line has ever carried that color.”
Still, Lucas said nothing.
The seal pulsed once—faint, steady, undeniable.
Alistair’s voice dropped. “Where did it come from?”
Lucas met his gaze. “It came when I stopped trying to be someone else.”
Alistair’s eyes narrowed, tension rising in his shoulders. He stepped closer, voice low and firm.
“Come with me. Now.”
Lucas didn’t hesitate. He handed the crate off to a nearby staffer and turned to follow his father.
Riven saw everything.
He saw the ripped collar, the flash of gold, the way Lucas’s posture shifted. And without missing a beat, he stepped forward, clapping his hands loudly.
“Executive override—Lucas is benched. He’s got a call to take. Keep the game moving!”
The staff laughed, distracted. No one questioned it.
Riven caught Lucas’s eye as he passed, and Lucas gave him the smallest nod of thanks.
Then he followed Alistair off the deck, through the garden path, and into the executive lounge—a quiet, glass-walled room reserved for private meetings. The door shut behind them with a soft click. The air inside was cooler, still.
Lucas stood near the window, waiting.
Alistair paced once, then turned.
“You’ve been hiding it.”
Lucas nodded. “I had to.”
“How long?”
“Since the China trip.”
Alistair’s jaw tightened. “That long? And you understand what this means?”
Lucas didn’t answer.
“Seals in our clan are legacy-bound. They come from one bearer. Activated through ritual. Passed with intent.”
Lucas nodded. “Blue-grey. Controlled. Predictable.”
Alistair stepped closer. “But yours isn’t.”
Lucas pulled the collar aside again, exposing the mark fully.
Crimson-gold.
Intricate.
Unwritten.
“It wasn’t given,” Lucas said. “It was formed.”
Alistair’s breath caught. “Formed how?”
Lucas’s voice was quiet. “Two sealed people. No ceremony. No script. Just convergence.”
Alistair stared at him like he was seeing a stranger.
“From Velmira?”
Lucas nodded once.
Alistair exhaled sharply. “That complicates everything.”
“I know.”
“Velmiran seals are unstable. Their rituals are unregulated. If this fusion happened without oversight—”
“It did.”
“Then it’s not just rare. It’s volatile.”
Lucas’s jaw tightened. “It’s not volatile. It’s alive.”
Alistair stepped back, visibly shaken.
“Does anyone else know?”
Lucas hesitated. “One.”
“Who?”
Lucas didn’t answer.
“Is it a man or a woman?”
Lucas looked away. “It’s not Kael.”
Alistair’s expression shifted—relief, confusion, something else.
“Of course, I know it’s not Kael.” His voice was steady, but something flickered behind it.
“Then who is that person?”
Lucas didn’t speak.
Because saying her name would change everything.
Because protecting her meant silence.
Because the seal wasn’t just his anymore.
It was hers too.
And that made it sacred.
The seal shimmered faintly in the filtered light, pulsing once against his skin like a quiet heartbeat. Lucas let the collar fall back into place, but the silence between him and his father didn’t ease.
Alistair stepped back, arms crossed, gaze locked on the spot where the mark had been
“That seal shouldn’t exist.”
Lucas didn’t respond.
“Do you understand what this means?” Alistair said, voice low. “No one in our history—no one—has ever carried a seal born from both Velmira and Draeven.”
Lucas’s jaw tightened. “I know.”
“It’s not just forbidden. It was engineered never to happen.”
Alistair stepped back, visibly shaken.
“After the lovers,” he said quietly. “After the clans nearly fractured over a union that was never allowed to exist.”
Lucas looked up. “They didn’t fail. They were stopped.”
Alistair nodded grimly. “And the seal system was rewritten. Velmira and Draeven heirs were never meant to bond. The markings were designed to repel each other. To prevent love from crossing bloodlines.”
Lucas didn’t flinch.
“That’s why we choose partners from unsealed families,” Alistair continued. “No risk of convergence. No risk of legacy conflict.”
Lucas stepped forward. “That person is not a risk.”
Alistair’s gaze sharpened. “You say that like you’ve already decided.”
Lucas didn’t answer.
“You won’t tell me who it is.”
Lucas stayed silent.
Alistair’s eyes narrowed. “You say that like you’ve already decided.”
Lucas didn’t flinch.
“Because I have.”
Alistair stared at him, then looked away again, the tension in his shoulders rising.
“You’ve already chosen them.”
Lucas didn’t speak.
Because the seal had already answered for him.