Chapter 9 #2
“I am both,” I growled. My free hand came up to cup her breast, pinching the nipple under her tunic until it hardened under my touch.
"I am the man who would follow you to the ends of the earth if you tried to run," I whispered against her lips.
"I am the one who would tear apart anyone who tried to take you from me, who would watch the world burn before I let another claim what is mine. And I am the monster who will not be denied what is his.”
The heat in her eyes was unmistakable now, no matter how she tried to hide it behind anger and defiance. I could feel it through our bond—the way her body responded to my dominance even as her mind fought against it. The shadows purred their satisfaction, sensing victory within reach.
"You want this," I said, my voice rough as I fought to keep control. "You want me to stop asking permission, to take what's mine. You want to follow me into the darkness and have me break you over and over again."
"And what does that make me?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor I could feel running through her. "Your victim? Your prize? Your slave? I’ve been a slave before, Taveth. Been ordered to my knees as men took my mouth, my cunt, my ass. Been used over and over again for their pleasure because I belonged to them. You think you’re more than that because of your powers?
You treat me as they did. nothing more than an object for your cock. "
Her words hit me like a physical blow, and for a moment, the shadows recoiled in shock. The comparison she drew—between me and the men who had brutalized her, who had treated her as nothing more than a vessel for their pleasure—cut deeper than any blade ever could.
I released her wrists as if her skin had burned me, stepping back so quickly I nearly stumbled. The shadows writhed in confusion, their whispers turning uncertain as they felt my resolve waver.
"I am not them," I said, but even to my own ears the words sounded hollow.
"Aren't you?" She rubbed her wrists where my grip had left marks, her eyes never leaving mine. "You claim me without asking. You bind me to your bed. You threaten to take away my memories, my pain, my very self to make me more compliant. Tell me, Taveth—how exactly are you different?"
The accusation hung between us like a sword, and I felt something crack inside my chest. Through our bond, I could feel her pain—not just the physical discomfort where I had gripped her too tightly, but the deeper wound of being reduced to an object once again.
The question cut through the haze of possessive hunger clouding my thoughts.
I could see myself reflected in her eyes—see the darkness that had crept across my features, the way the shadows writhed around me like living things.
This wasn't desire I was feeling, not entirely.
It was the Veyr-sha, feeding on my jealousy and fear, growing stronger with each moment of weakness.
"No," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Shame washed over me like ice water. "You are... you are everything…”
The words died in my throat as I saw myself through her eyes—a man using his power to pin her against the wall, threatening to take what he wanted regardless of her consent. Just like the masters who had owned her, used her, broken her before I ever touched her life.
The shadows recoiled from the shame flooding through me, their whispers turning uncertain. This was not the victory they had promised, not the sweet submission they craved. This was the look of a woman who had seen too much cruelty to be impressed by mine.
"Aeveth, I— I wouldn’t have.”
“You wouldn’t? Really?” She eyed me suspiciously, stepping away as she rubbed her wrists where I had gripped her too tightly.
I swallowed. “No,” I said, steadier this time.
“No, I wouldn’t. The shadows, they whisper to me constantly now.
Tell me you belong to me, that I have the right to take what I want.
And the worst part is how much I want to listen to them.
But I am still a man, I am still Taveth, and I do not want that. ”
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
I met her eyes, seeing my own torture reflected there despite her anger. "I want you to choose me," I admitted. "Not because magic compels you, not because you're trapped here, but because you want to be mine as much as I need to be yours."
"I do want you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's what makes this so hard. I want you, but I won't be owned by you. I won't let you lock me away in this beautiful prison and pretend it's love."
"Then what do you want from me?" The question came out raw, desperate. "How do I make this work when every instinct I have demands I claim you completely?"
"I want you to trust me," she said simply. "I want you to believe that I'm strong enough to choose, and that my choice might actually be you—if you give me the chance to make it freely."
I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the writhing shadows that had filled my peripheral vision. "I don't know how much longer I can fight them."
"I know." She moved closer but didn't touch me. "And I'm sorry for that. I truly am. But I can't pretend to want something I don't just to make the darkness easier for you to bear."
Before I could respond, a sharp knock echoed through our chambers. We both froze, the intimate tension of the moment shattered by the intrusion.
"Enter," I called, my voice carefully controlled.
A young acolyte stepped through the door, his eyes carefully averted from Livia as he bowed deeply. "High Shadow, the Council requests your immediate presence in the Chamber of Voices."
I felt something cold settle in my stomach. Emergency sessions were rare and never brought good news. "Did they specify the nature of the summons?"
"Matters of city defence, my lord. Aytara-vel commands your attendance within the hour."
I nodded dismissal, and the boy fled as quickly as propriety allowed. When I turned back to Livia, she was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"Emergency council sessions," I explained. "It means something has happened—probably related to Imperial movements near our borders."
"Go," she said simply. "Your people need you."
Your people, not our people. The distinction wasn't lost on me, and I felt the shadows stir restlessly at the reminder of her continued otherness.
"Will you be here when I return?" I asked, hating the uncertainty in my voice.
Livia settled onto the window seat, drawing her knees up to her chest in a gesture that made her look younger and more vulnerable than I had seen her since our first night together. "Where else would I go?"
The question hung between us, heavy with implications neither of us wanted to examine too closely. I left without another word, the shadows trailing behind me like wild dogs, starving and nowhere near sated simply biding their time.