Chapter 28 Sebastian
Sebastian
Sefina was smart.
That came with age, yes—but more than that, it came from ruling a realm that had never once turned inward to devour itself. The Flower Realm had never known coups or civil wars. No blood-soaked thrones traded from hand to hand. No Sovereigns murdered in their sleep by ambitious heirs.
Just abundance. Beauty. Stability.
And a rot buried so deeply beneath the surface that most mistook it for fertile soil.
Of all the Sovereigns, she was the one I respected most.
So when she told Violet to bring her a fucking flower—one she absolutely did not need considering her lands are already crawling with protection magic—I understood exactly what she was doing.
It was a test.
Sefina needed to know whether the Sun’s newly crowned Sovereign could survive violence without unraveling.
Whether Violet would respond to danger with restraint or cruelty.
Most importantly, Sefina needed to know whether the Sun Realm’s new ruler would be an asset when the time came for Sefina to use teeth instead of petals.
Like I said.
Smart.
The moment we returned to the Flower Realm, Sefina moved quickly.
Orders went out through the palace. Messengers scattered across the terraces. Guards that were hiding in the greenery shifted positions. And Sasha began mobilizing a small unit to uphold her part of the deal. Alastor was waiting at the gates when Sefina’s troops arrived.
It was all very polite.
Very controlled.
Which meant it would only stay that way until someone decided to complicate it. I only hoped the Ocean Sovereign would follow their example.
When we returned to the Night Realm castle, Violet peeled away from us without hesitation.
She moved down the corridor with purpose, urgency in every step as she scanned ahead, already looking for Bronwen.
She would find her, grab her by the arm, and deliver a breathless, completely unfiltered recounting of everything that had happened.
Somehow, Violet would make negotiating alliances sound like an adventure.
I had barely taken three steps when Bronwen appeared from the opposite end of the corridor, as though the castle itself had summoned her the moment Violet crossed the threshold. Her expression was already sharp, that familiar calculating look she wore whenever she had a target.
I jerked my chin down the hall. “Violet just went that way. She’s looking for you.”
Bronwen didn’t move. Instead, her gaze lingered on me just long enough that I knew whatever she was about to say would not be pleasant.
“You really didn’t speak to Adar the entire trip?” she asked.
Fuck.
How had he already managed to tell on me?
Bronwen is here with me, I sent down the bond to Violet.
“I didn’t need to,” I said with a small shrug.
Bronwen mirrored the gesture immediately—perfectly, mockingly. “Don’t shrug at me. He said the two of you were alone together for over an hour and you didn’t say a single word to him.”
I’m coming! Violet sent back.
“He makes everything harder,” I replied flatly. “I’m tired of being pulled in two directions. Violet is my mate. If he can’t accept that, then I’m done trying to make him comfortable about it. I will interact with him when duty requires it. That’s all.”
Bronwen studied me in that quiet, unsettling way she had when she was deciding whether to dismantle someone immediately or wait until the moment would be more inconvenient.
She opened her mouth.
And Violet appeared. “There you are!”
She arrived like sunlight cutting through clouds—bright, energized, impossible to ignore. Before Bronwen could say another word, Violet looped her arm through hers with obvious triumph.
“I did it,” she said, practically glowing. “I formed an alliance. Come on. Let’s go find food and I’ll tell you everything.”
Bronwen allowed herself to be pulled down the corridor, though not before she looked back at me over Violet’s shoulder.
The message in that look was perfectly clear.
This conversation is not over.
I smiled back anyway.
* * *
The long table sat beneath the open sky, candles burning low in the cool night air.
Since the dining hall had burned, dinner had moved to the terrace.
Violet sat at my side, relaxed in a way she hadn’t been lately.
I hated to admit it, but I knew it was because of our short trip to the Sun Realm.
It fed that ancient part of her that needed to be there.
It was satisfied.
For now.
Bronwen was already halfway through a bottle of wine. She lounged in her chair with deceptive ease while Adar was the complete opposite. His attention remained fixed on the map spread between our plates, posture rigid.
Violet tapped the edge of the map with her finger.
“If we convince the Ocean Realm,” she said, “we’ll have the advantage.”
“We already have the advantage,” I replied calmly.
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. If we approach this as equals—not ‘you’re stronger than them’—it becomes four realms against three.” She lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes bright with certainty. “No one attacks when the odds look like that. And it buys us time.”
“For what?” Adar asked coolly.
“So we can spend more time in the Sun Realm,” Violet answered without hesitation. “Stabilize it. Let people come back. Build something that doesn’t immediately look like a threat.”
Her confidence struck me harder than any challenge across the table.
She thinks she’s ready.
Truthfully, I thought she was too. As ready as she could be.
I just wasn’t entirely sure I was ready.
I had waited for her. Fought for her. Bled for her. And now that she was here, some darker, more instinctive part of me wanted to close my fist around the world and keep her exactly where I could see her breathe.
Tie her to my side.
Lock the doors.
Burn every road that led away from her.
I forced the thought down before it could grow teeth.
I would not be that kind of mate.
Violet deserved freedom. Choice. A life that stretched far beyond the reach of my fears. I would take whatever pieces of herself she chose to give me—but I would not cage her to keep them.
Across the table, Bronwen watched me over the rim of her glass. Sharp enough to recognize exactly what war I was fighting in silence.
Adar, unfortunately, was not.
“And when you’re wrong?” he asked Violet. “When the Ocean Sovereign decides the Sun is too unstable to risk siding with? When he sees you as a liability instead of an asset?”
Her jaw tightened, but her voice stayed steady. “Then we adjust.”
“You don’t get to adjust when thousands of lives are on the board,” he said flatly. “You’re betting on restraint from realms that do not share your sentimentality.”
I felt Violet’s pulse jump beneath the table.
“That’s enough,” Bronwen said, her eyes fixed on Adar.
He ignored her.
“You talk about time in the Sun Realm like it’s a luxury,” he continued. “But you don’t even know if you can hold it yet. Power doesn’t equal control.”
Violet straightened in her chair. “I’m learning.”
“You had one successful day,” he replied without hesitation. “That doesn’t mean you’re capable. I saw what a small transfer did to you. You are not like Sebastian.” His gaze flicked briefly toward me before returning to her. “And he indulges it because he’s—”
The chair scraped sharply against the stone terrace as I stood, the sound cutting through the air like a blade. Around us, every shadow responded instinctively, lifting and stretching along the floor and pillars as tension flared.
Adar’s attention snapped to me. For a fraction of a second, surprise crossed his face.
“Dinner is over,” I said.
He opened his mouth, but I didn’t give him the chance to speak.
I reached for Violet, my hand closing around hers. “We’re leaving,” I said, already turning away from the table. “Now.”
I didn’t look back.
My grip stayed firm around Violet’s hand as I guided her into the castle, leaving the argument—and Adar—behind us.