Mine to Claim

Chapter 57

Everything has gone smoothly so far. Nikita has said goodbye to everyone she loves. It's not a final farewell—she'll still visit them—but this is the last time they'll see her as the Princess of Wolves. From now on, she'll return as the Queen of Vampires. And maybe, if Nora is ready to step down, Nikita will finally take her place as the true Queen of Witches.

That part worries me a little. Nikita isn't used to politics, and all this responsibility might feel overwhelming. But she won't face it alone. I'll be there for her, always—protecting her, guiding her, making sure she never feels lost.

My mission is clear: I won't let any supernatural being or human threaten the peace we've fought so hard to build after ten long years of war.

There's only one loose end left—Alcina. Once my land is stable and the new laws are in place, I'll be hunting Alcina. And I'm going to enjoy every second of it. It will be a fun chase.

The shift in the wind tells me we're close. We're heading to my home—our home now. I've waited so long for this moment. I feel joy, but also a flicker of worry. What if she struggles to adjust? What if my people's old beliefs weigh too heavily on her?

It'll take time, but I know them. Once they see who she truly is, they'll never doubt her strength. The Vampire people deserve a Queen like Nikita—someone who wears her scars not with shame, but with pride. Like armour. A symbol of survival, of power. And my people will see that. They always do.

The carriage creaks to a halt just beyond the border of Creighton territory, its obsidian frame glinting beneath the moonlight. The horses—two midnight-black stallions with silver eyes—snort softly, their breath curling into the cold air like smoke. They've run hard, but they're tireless. Creatures of shadow, bred for nights like this.

I step out first, the hem of my cloak brushing the frost-laced ground. The air here is different—denser, darker, alive. Magic hums beneath the soil, ancient and loyal. The land knows me. It remembers.

Nikita follows, her movements graceful despite the weight of what she's walking into. Her cloak billows behind her, deep violet against the pale stone. She looks like a storm wrapped in silk. And she's mine.

The gates of the citadel rise ahead—tall, carved from black stone, etched with the seal of our bloodline. As we approach, the guards shift into formation. Word has spread. They know.

The moment we cross the threshold of my lands, the air shifts again. It's subtle, but unmistakable. The shadows stir. The wind stills. The night recognizes its king.

My people have been waiting.

By the time we reach the courtyard, it's already lined with guards, nobles, and curious onlookers. They bow as I pass, their eyes flickering between me and the woman at my side.

Nikita.

My mate.

The one they've only heard whispers about—until now.

I feel her fingers tighten slightly around mine, and I glance at her. She's calm, but I can sense the storm beneath her surface. She's stepping into a world that once terrified her. A world that once hunted her. And now, she walks into it as its queen.

The gates open with a low groan, and I lead her through the grand archway. Dmitry is waiting at the top of the stairs, his expression unreadable as always, but I catch the flicker of relief in his eyes.

"Welcome home, Your Majesty," he says with a slight bow, then turns to Nikita. "And welcome, my Queen."

She blinks, startled by the title, but nods gracefully. She's learning quickly.