Chapter 10 Sebastian
Sebastian
The blood was barely there.
A thin smear at the corner of her mouth, already drying by the time my thumb reached it. I wiped it away gently—carefully—the way you touch something precious when you’re choosing restraint instead of instinct.
“You’re done training her.”
Adar snorted. “Thank the gods—”
“What?” I snapped, already turning—
But Bronwen had him by the collar in the same breath, one hand clamped over his mouth as she dragged him backward. “Absolutely not,” she muttered. “You’re done talking. Forever.”
Good.
My attention returned to Violet immediately.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded. “I am.”
That wasn’t the same thing as he didn’t hurt me.
I set my hand at her waist. The bond thrummed between us, unsettled but intact. Behind my calm, the spiral tightened.
Adar knew better.
I cupped her face and tipped her chin up gently, forcing myself to assess instead of react. No more blood. No swelling. No fractures I could feel through skin, bond, or shadow.
My control held.
Barely.
“Do not,” I said, “ever let someone hurt you and tell yourself it’s acceptable.”
Her eyes softened, just a fraction. “You told me not to push. And I didn’t listen.”
Shadows surged before I could stop them, curling tighter around my wrists.
“That isn’t an excuse, Violet. You have the right to say whatever you want to him—no matter how much it pisses him off.
” I felt my eyes darken. “That does not give him the right to do that. Training is one thing. What I felt behind his movements was not training.”
I swallowed, careful with my next words. “He was trying to hurt you. And that will never be acceptable.”
She caught my hand, skin warm against mine, grounding me instantly. “He shouldn’t have done it,” she agreed softly. “But there’s something seriously wrong with them.”
“I know,” I said, grateful for the shift in focus—for anything that helped keep my control intact. “That’s how they survive it.”
She leaned into my touch, and the tension in my chest loosened. Not much. Just enough.
“Were they always like this?” she asked.
Memory stirred but I couldn’t stay on the field any longer. My shadows were too close to the surface, and the darkness left over from weeks ago pressed in like a bruise that never fully faded.
“Will you walk with me through the garden?” I asked instead.
Her eyes sparked with quiet curiosity as she nodded.
We stepped onto the path, and my gaze dropped to the violets lining the walkway. They were brighter than they had any right to be—petals catching the low light like they had recognized what I had spent a century searching for—and what I would tear the world down to keep.
We slowed where the garden curved inward. I rested my hand at the small of her back, anchoring myself there.
“I was just a faeling when they arrived. It wasn’t long after I became Sovereign.
A few years. Or a decade, maybe. Time was…
loose then.” I let out a measured breath.
“I was lost. I let the grief of losing my mother rot and become darker. I didn’t know how to control my new gifts.
I didn’t want to. The castle emptied itself.
Guards stayed because they were bound to.
Advisors fled. Servants vanished. Or maybe my shadows swallowed them whole.
” I didn’t soften it. “I didn’t know. I didn’t care.
The realm was in chaos, but none of it mattered to me. I barely noticed.”
My thumb traced a slow, unconscious circle against her spine.
“One night—or day. It was all the same back then. Endless dark.” My gaze drifted ahead.
“I was at the Starlight Lagoon. It was the only place that didn’t feel like it was closing in on me.
The only thread of peace I had left.” I swallowed.
“I prayed to the gods for someone. Anyone. Just so I wouldn’t be alone. ”
She stilled.
“And then they appeared. Adar looked like a soldier who had seen far too much. Sword strapped across his back like it was part of his spine. Bronwen stood beside him.” A faint twitch of my mouth. “In a gown. Covered in blood.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Violet said.
I nodded. “She was holding a heart in one hand. And a blade in the other. It was old and wrong in a way that made even my shadows recoil.” My shadows stirred at the memory.
“The relief of an answered prayer didn’t last. The threat pouring off that blade—” I broke off, then continued more evenly.
“I thought they’d come to kill me. And before I realized what I was doing, I had them wrapped in shadow, and I was inside their minds.
Their lives hit me all at once. Pain. Loss.
Torture.” My hand tightened at her back.
“But what struck me most wasn’t the violence. ”
I met her eyes.
“It was the love,” I said. “The bond. The way they held on to each other when everything else was gone. The way they survived by choosing one another again and again.”
We started walking, gravel crunching softly beneath our boots. My hand never left her back.
“They were completely broken,” I continued.
“Just like I was. And I remember thinking that maybe… maybe we could be broken together. I brought them to the castle. Gave them rooms. Food. Space. I told myself I was being kind.” I shook my head.
“Naive, maybe. I’d like to blame that on my age—but I’d seen their minds.
I knew exactly what they were running from.
They needed somewhere to disappear.” A pause. “And I gave it to them.”
Violet’s fingers tightened in my sleeve.
“Bronwen never said a word. She walked into her chambers and shut the door on the world. Adar stationed himself right there,” I said.
“Didn’t leave. Not once. I brought food for weeks.
They didn’t know I could see through my shadows.
Not then. And I watched her. She screamed.
She cried. She came apart piece by piece.
” I swallowed. “She grieved everything she’d lost, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
And I finally couldn’t take it anymore, so I appeared in her room. ”
My chest tightened at the memory.
“She came to me. Put her hand on my cheek. And she didn’t see a Sovereign.
She didn’t see a monster. She saw a boy who was alone, and then something just changed in her.
She shut it all away. Everything she was feeling.
Everything she’d been. I don’t know how she did it—but it was as if she built a wall around that part of herself and sealed it behind stone.
She became someone else. Someone sharp. Someone bright.
Someone who didn’t bleed where anyone could see. ”
Violet’s voice was barely more than breath. “The Bronwen I know.”
“Yes.” My mouth curved faintly. “She looped her arm through mine. She said, ‘Show me your home.’ And she never looked back.”
“What about Adar?” she asked softly.
“He was wary. I didn’t blame him.” I gestured faintly to the air around us.
“All he saw was a boy with black eyes. Shadows spilling into every corner of every room. Power without restraint.” A quiet truth slipped free.
“But I just wanted him to like me. He watched Bronwen. Saw how different she was. How certain. How… functional. So he followed her lead.”
We walked in silence for a few steps before I added, “In a way, they raised me. I was Sovereign in title—power without balance. But with them…” I exhaled. “I was happy. For the first time since I took the throne.”
We passed beneath a trellis where the shadows thinned, the stars above seeming closer somehow.
“I learned control,” I said. “Not because anyone taught me. But because I wanted to keep what I’d found.
My eyes turned blue again. Like they were before, and the sky lightened with them.
” A faint huff escaped me. “Slowly—but unmistakably. The Night Realm entered a new age because two broken people chose to stay.”
She looked up at me. “You changed everything.”
“No,” I said. “They did.”
I squeezed her hand once, grounding myself, before continuing. “Even though I knew it was impossible for anyone to have followed them here, Adar insisted I glamour them. Said if they were going to stay, they needed to blend.”
Violet frowned. “But Bronwen looks nothing like Night fae.”
I laughed. “Exactly. Her eyes were red when she arrived. Adar told me to make them black.”
“And she agreed?” Violet asked, already doubtful.
“She refused,” I said. “Flatly.”
Violet exhaled a laugh. “Of course she did.”
“She wanted her old eyes back. From before she turned.” I shook my head. “Then Adar decided her skin needed to be pale.”
“And?”
“She tried it,” I said dryly. “Walked three steps. Looked at herself. Then made me change it back.”
Violet laughed.
“They argued for nearly an hour. Eventually, Adar decided to count his blessings. Her hair was already black.” My mouth curved faintly. “She gave him the wickedest grin I’ve ever seen and made me turn it red instead.”
“That sounds like her,” Violet murmured.
“It is,” I said.
We slowed near the far edge of the garden, where the path dipped and rose again, the stone worn smooth by centuries of footsteps.
“Adar became my Commander not long after,” I said. “He needed structure and purpose. Somewhere to put all that vigilance.”
“And Bronwen?” Violet asked.
I glanced at her. “Bronwen was… bossy.”
She snorted.
“So bossy,” I continued, “that it somehow turned into her running everything that wasn’t war or borders. She became my Advisor without ever asking.”
“And you let her.”
“I never stopped her,” I corrected. “And the realm was better for it.”
My shadows finally seemed to settle, content to listen.
“I shouldn’t have pried,” Violet said after a moment.
“Maybe not with Adar in the room, but that doesn’t excuse what he did.” I slowed and turned to face her fully. “And you’re part of this family now. Whether he likes it or not. You deserve to know all of it.”