Chapter 30
Trent
The warp-drop slammed me to my knees.
Polished obsidian tile met my palms first—cold, smooth, flecked with silver veins. My manor. My domain. Walls of black stone and dark walnut rose around me, lit by flickering torches that never smoked.
Home.
Or was Reverie my home now?
Reverie.
Her heartbeat pulsed once—steady, treacherous—and I snarled, pressing my fingers into the tile until it cracked.
“Silence,” I hissed at the bond that shouldn’t exist. “You don’t get to claim me.”
The bond didn’t care what I wanted. Of course it didn’t.
The doors thundered open.
Selene swept in first—like the bitch owned the place—silver silk, blond hair braided with steel rings, her expression an elegant sneer carved with cruelty. Ubel followed behind her like the wannabe ruler he was.
Both stopped when they saw me.
Selene tilted her head, a faint, sharp smile on her face. “My king… that was a dramatic entrance.”
She was the only one who ever called me that. Ubel wouldn’t do it under threat of death. I smirked. Today might be the day I insist on it.
I stood slowly, letting the obsidian dust fall from my palms.
Ubel stepped forward. “Your appearance… are you done with the games?”
“Are you tired of the games?” I asked softly, “You want me to play with you?”
He shut up.
Good.
Selene circled me like a serpent admiring a kill. “You look like yourself again,” she murmured. “No more of that… pale Torren imitation.”
I didn’t react. She had always wanted me, but she would never make a move because she liked to hold the power in a Faction.
Torren had been a mask. True. But Reverie had looked at him as if he were still someone worth saving.
Reverie again.
Damn her.
Selene moved closer. “Did your little hunt in the tunnels succeed?”
I almost laughed. Neither of these, oh so powerful Aurathions, knew what had happened.
“You seem… unsettled,” she added, eyes narrowing. “Did the girl do something?”
My jaw clenched. The bond pulled again—a phantom tug in my ribs.
Selene’s lips curled, delighting in the thought. “She is Adelaide’s daughter after all. That alone makes her a curse.” She smirked, “Didn’t you have a crush on Adelaide for a bit?”
A cold stillness slid through me. “Careful,’ I said quietly.
Selene froze.
I moved closer to her, taking small, deliberate steps. “You speak of things you know nothing about, like you think you have the right.”
Selene’s chin lifted in defiance. “Adelaide was insufferable. Arrogant. Favored. The academy adored her.” A hiss curled into her voice. “She deserved everything she lost.”
Images flashed behind my eyes—Adelaide laughing in the winter courtyard of Emberhold—Adelaide’s defiance. Adelaide trying to shield Sly from the very fate Selene forced on him.
The memories of her didn’t affect me now. A young guy, she was much too busy to notice at the time.
When I first saw Reverie, I realized that what I felt for Adelaide was simply a boy’s crush on a girl he never had a chance with. My feelings for Reverie were the kind that could build kingdoms... or tear them down. The feelings a man felt for a woman.
My hands curled.
Selene mistook my silence for permission. “And her daughter? That girl reeks of the same na?ve purity. I loathe her immensely.”
The bond roared.
My vision snapped sharp—feral, electric, dangerous.
I moved before she realized—one moment across the room. Next, my fingers are squeezing her face.
Selene stiffened.
“You hated Adelaide,” I murmured, my voice smooth as silk over steel. “So you stole her lover.” A cruel smile twisted my mouth. “You dragged Sly into your Faction. Broke him. Tortured him. Made him kneel to you. But he never loved you, wouldn’t even answer to his name. Made you call him Hayes.”
“He deserved it,” she spat.
“Tell me,” I whispered, “does Reverie remind you of the woman you could never outshine?”
Her breath caught.
“Does she make your skin crawl because she looks like the one person who was everything you wished to be? The daughter you’ll never have with Sly?”
Ubel flinched in the background at my tone.
Selene’s eyes filled with hatred—but also fear.
Good.
I dropped her face, stepping back.
“You forget yourself,” she snapped, voice shaking. “We built this kingdom with you.”
I chuckled quietly—dark and amused. “You built nothing.”
Ubel straightened, gathering what little courage he owned. “Surely you see the benefit of our influence. Our—”
“Influence?” I repeated. The torchlight dimmed. The shadows thickened around me.
I stalked toward him. “You think you influenced me.” My voice shook the very air. “You think you shaped me. Directed me. Controlled me.”
I reached out and placed two fingers under his chin.
Lifted.
He trembled.
“You mistake proximity for power,” I said softly.
Selene’s voice cracked. “We are your allies—”
“No.”
The word struck like a sharp blade.
“You are the tools. And I’m done pretending I need you.”
The manor itself seemed to exhale in relief. Recognizing its master.
Selene swallowed, her voice barely audible. “What… changed?”
Reverie’s kiss.
Her heartbeat.
The cracked crown binding itself to me.
“Nothing you deserve to know about,” I said.
Ubel dared a step closer. “Then what are your orders?”
I turned my back to them—because it was the greatest insult I could offer—and walked toward the massive window overlooking Bellona.
Winds tore across the sky, lightning flickering in distant sheets.
“My orders,” I said, clasping my hands behind my back, "are simple.”
Silence clung to every corner of the room.
“Do nothing unless I command it.” I let my voice darken. “And do not touch the girl.”
Selene’s breath hitched in fury. “Why do you care what happens to her?”
I smiled at the window. “I don’t.”
Another lie.
An easy one.
One that would keep her alive.
“I simply don’t like others playing with my toys.” I stared at them both, letting the insanity I usually kept hidden show in my eyes.
Ubel bowed instantly—deeply terrified. “As you command.”
Selene’s bow came slower. Trembling but resentful.
Good.
Let her hate the girl. Let her fear me.
Both truths served me well.
The manor felt too quiet.
My manor was usually a sanctuary—constructed of cold stone, colder air, and silence that soothed me.
Tonight, it felt like the walls were listening.
I paced across the chamber, boots hitting the obsidian tile with sharp, precise rhythm, my breath steadying only when I ripped away the last remnant of Torren’s shirt and finally saw what I’d been avoiding.
My arm.
The mark burned there like a bruise drawn in molten gold—a cracked crown carved cleanly across the inside of my left forearm.
It glowed faintly.
Mocking me.
I dragged my fingers over it, nails pressing until my skin split and blood rose.
It didn’t fade.
It only pulsed.
In time with her heartbeat. The only rhythm it seemed to know.
I slammed my arm against the stone wall. The entire section cracked, dust raining down like ash.
“Damn, you,” I hissed—not at her, never at her—but at the bond that dared to think I deserved this. Something like her.
And then—The next pulse hit harder.
Not soft. Not steady.
A flicker of emotion that wasn’t mine.
Warm hands. Masculine voices. Her name whispered like a prayer.
Her men. What the fuck?
I froze.
The bond didn’t show visions. It wasn’t supposed to. But my bond seemed different. It whispered secrets of skin against skin and of claiming hands that weren’t mine.
Nathan’s warmth against her. Zane’s teasing murmur. Zeke’s quiet protectiveness. Jets intensity. My sniveling nephew’s devotion.
My jaw clenched hard enough to crack stone.
They were close to her now.
Comforting her.
Touching her.
The bond didn’t show details, only impressions—but that was enough.
I growled under my breath, pacing again, the resentment old and savage. Those men had something I didn’t even want—shouldn’t want—and yet the idea of their hands on her skin made something feral inside me lunge.
“Pathetic,” I spat at myself.
Wanting what belonged to others was beneath me. Being tethered to them through her was an insult.
Each man left a mark on her chest—symbols shaped by their bond.
Selene had taken it from her. I didn’t know about that until it was already done. At the time, part of me delighted in her cruelty. Now I wanted to slit her fucking throat.
But the mark was back. I’d seen it in the tunnels. I’d seen their devotion. Their certainty.
They would burn the world to keep her safe.
And there was no doubt she loved them back.
I hated that.
Not the love—I didn’t give a single shit about that—but the security of it, the inevitability. That ironclad devotion that wrapped around her like chains.
They didn’t fear what she could become. They didn’t fear what she could destroy.
They didn’t fear her.
And they sure as hell didn’t fear the bond.
Fucking morons.
I flexed my hand, watching lightning-like energy crackle across my palm—part of the immense power my injections gave me.
“I am not one of them,” I said aloud to the empty room.
I wasn’t part of their little brotherhood. I wasn’t their ally, their friend.
I wasn’t someone she would ever welcome.
The bond pulsed anyway. I nearly laughed.
Her men had spent time with her, protecting her, earning their marks—each one tied to her heart. But my mark had carved itself into me in seconds. Violet, instinctive, undeniable.
It infuriated me.
They earned their right to her.
I did not.
They were chosen.
I was claimed.
Their marks were symbols of love, loyalty, devotion.
Mine was a scar. A warning. A mistake.
And still—the bond pulsed again.
Stronger.
Hotter.
As if reminding me she had felt something when I kissed her—something she shouldn’t have.
I dug my fingers into my hair until I could barely breathe. “This ends.” My voice calm. Final. Cold.
I would not be another man orbiting her. I would not fall into the same trap countless men before me had—destroying themselves for a woman they could never have.
And I sure as hell wouldn't let the bond control what I do.
But then—
That damn heartbeat brushed mine again.
Channeling through the cracked crown. Through the bond. Through the mistake etched into my arm.
Soft.
Steady.
Unbroken.
I hissed out a breath and leaned back against the stone pillar, eyes closing. “I will not want you.”
A lie.
I felt the bond answer. We’ll see.
My eyes snapped open. No, this was not happening.
I pushed away from the pillar and strode to the far edge of the manor hall, the night wind slamming against my back.
If her men thought they could keep her safe—
Good. Let them try. Let them all stand between us. I wouldn’t cross that line again. But if one day she came close—If she stood before me with those eyes—If she whispered my name—Trent…
My breath stuttered.
I slammed my fist into the wall again.
“No,” I growled. “Never.”
But the bond pulsed. Relentless.
I closed my eyes. And for the very first time in years, I didn’t feel like the hunter.
I felt hunted.