Chapter 17
By the time we returned to the Ludaryn, the noise of the streets had faded behind us, swallowed by stone and silence.
The sun stood high overhead now, the gentleness of dawn burned away, leaving only the weight of midday pressing down.
I’d kept pace behind him, at a distance.
My eyes fixed on the movement of his bronze back as the slow pulse between my legs refused to settle.
He stopped at the steps and faced me. I strode ahead of him, stopping a few steps above. For once, towering over him. I steadied my voice, despite everything still burning between us.
“That won’t happen again.”
He watched me for a moment, his expression giving nothing away. Then his mouth curved and he rolled his neck.
“Tell yourself that. If you need to. But I can still smell your desire. Now that I’ve learned it, you won’t be able to hide it.”
I stiffened. “It’s only a physical response. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“No,” he said, almost thoughtful. “Not yet.”
The words stayed with me—and I didn’t like what they meant. Before I could answer, he strode off through the Ludaryn doors, leaving me standing outside as they closed behind him with an echoing weight.
I didn’t move right away. Not until the sound of him faded completely.
Climbing the rest of the stairs felt less like ascent and more like submission, as though each stair carried me closer to something I’d already failed to outrun. My shoulders sagged despite myself, exhaustion settling deep into my muscles as if it had only been waiting for permission.
Comfort. The word surfaced unbidden. I needed it. Something real. Someone who wasn’t watching, measuring, waiting for me to slip.
When I passed one of the houseguards near the stairs—the same one meant to escort me—my temper flared before I could stop it. I scowled as I moved past him, catching the stale scent of wine clinging to his clothes. He barely seemed to register me, his posture loose, his gaze dulled.
Traitors. Every one of them. Did Marcus know his guards obeyed Thanor? Or was this simply another privilege granted to the house’s champion—loyalty bought with blood and victories?
What I did know was that whatever power I had held in my dealings with him, he had taken it without asking. And I had not yet decided how to live with that knowledge, or whether I would accept it at all. For now, provoking him further would only leave me exposed.
My lips still burned, faintly swollen, the metallic trace of his blood lingering on my tongue. The memory of his touch twisted deeper inside me. I let it turn to anger.
“Enjoy your drinks?” I asked over my shoulder, unable to resist the edge in my voice.
The guard jolted, straightening as his attention snapped to me. One of the others muttered something low under his breath, but I didn’t slow. I had already turned toward the Bondward Wing.
Talia and Tavin were sprawled across the sofas in the Atrium, books resting loosely in their hands. They looked up as I approached, curiosity flickering briefly across their faces.
“Hey,” I said, forcing some lightness into my tone. “Have either of you seen Jorius?”
Tavin shook his head, while Talia answered, “He was in the courtyard with Ilyth about an hour ago.”
“Alright, thanks. If one of you sees him, could you tell him I’m looking for him?”
“Sure thing.”
They returned to their reading, the silence settling easily around them again as I turned back the way I had come. I quickened my pace as I passed the champions’ chambers, refusing to so much as glance toward his door. I had no desire—none—to be anywhere near him again.
Descending lower, the courtyard opened before me, wide and sunlit, the heat settling familiar against my skin. The guard at the gate didn’t ask my name this time. He simply unlocked the iron and stepped aside.
I passed through without a word. Jorius wasn’t there.
Ilyth paced her enclosure as I approached, her intelligent gaze resting on me.
A faint smile tugged at my lips despite everything.
Jorius had likely charmed Rhenik’s saber—as he did with all females, human or beast alike.
The thought drew a brief, reluctant warmth from me.
Then a sharp pang of guilt followed. Our last exchange hadn’t ended well. Maybe I should apologize. Then again… maybe he should learn to trust me.
The comfort I had hoped to find in him slipped from my grasp, thinning into something uncertain and fragile. With a sigh, I turned back toward the Ludaryn, already retreating inward. As I walked on, a dull, rhythmic thumping reached me from a door to my left.
I slowed. The sound was unmistakable—wood striking wood in a steady, deliberate cadence. I glanced down the corridor. Empty. No guards. No servants. Whoever was inside was trying to be discreet.
They weren’t succeeding.
I hesitated, half-inclined to keep walking. I had no interest in stumbling into something reckless, and even less in involving myself in it. But curiosity stirred anyway.
It always did. And knowledge… had its uses.
Leaning closer, I pressed my ear to the door. A voice broke through the wood, strained and breathless.
“Goddess—yes… harder—”
Recognition hit instantly, locking my spine in place. A low moan followed, the thumping growing heavier as the door shuddered beneath the force of it. Then a second voice, harsh and unmistakable.
“Fuck—fucking take it.”
Cold realization washed through me. I pulled back at once, my pulse quickening as I walked away. Whatever was happening inside was reckless enough without an audience. I didn’t need to hear more.
I had nearly reached the corridor’s end when the door behind me slammed open. A cold sweat broke out on my back, but I didn’t slow. I remained fixed forward, on the door in front of me. So close.
Footsteps followed—hurried, uneven—
Then she stepped into view. Her pale hair was disheveled, her cheeks flushed, her breath still uneven as she smoothed her tunic down with practiced ease. Her eyes were bright with something feral and unapologetic. Lucina.
They landed on me and widened. For a heartbeat, shock broke through her composure.
Then it hardened, anger sliding into place with practiced ease.
Behind her, Sevrak emerged. The look on his face turned my blood cold.
His jaw clenched, his breathing still heavy as his attention locked onto me with sudden, violent intent.
He took a step forward. Then another, his hands curling as though he meant to close the distance by force alone.
Fear rose—fast, unwelcome—but I held my ground.
“Later,” Lucina snapped, her arm shooting out to block him. She didn’t look at him. Her gaze never left mine. “I’ll handle this.”
He bristled, barely contained, still fixed on me as if committing my face to memory. Then his mouth twisted.
“You’re Vayren’s bitch,” he growled. “You’re next.” He spat to the side before stalking down the corridor, the force of his anger remaining long after he disappeared.
Lucina didn’t move right away. Then she stepped closer, close enough that I could still feel the heat clinging to her skin.
“You saw nothing. And if you value your place here, you’ll keep it that way,” she spat.
A short, humorless laugh slipped from me.
“Careful. You’re not in a position to threaten me. Not when you’re the one breaking rules in broad daylight.”
“You think this gives you leverage?” she hissed, closing the distance further.
“I have Aelia’s ear. We grew up together.
” Her lip curled as she took me in from head to toe.
“And I’ve made sure she knows her husband has been granting you favors.
Have you spread your legs for him yet? Is that how you became Vayren’s Bondward? ”
The words struck hard, but I forced the breath from my lungs before they could settle.
“What have I done to make you hate me like this?” I asked. “You don’t even know me.”
“You think I don’t?” she snapped. “I’ve known women like you my entire life. Soft voices. Wide eyes. Drawing men in, bending them, pulling them away from women who actually deserve them.” Her expression twisted. “I’ve dealt with your kind before.”
I merely frowned at her, studying her balled fists. “What happened to you, Lucina? It doesn’t have to be like this. We’re both Bondwards. I’m tired of—”
“Shut your disgusting mouth!”
I flinched. She leaned even closer, her face only inches from mine.
“You and I are not the same! Once, maybe. Before someone like you ruined everything. Stole the man I loved. Made sure I ended up here while my family paid the price.”
Her smirk returned. “Never again. We have plans for you. And if you value your life, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
I forced my voice to remain steady, even as my hands trembled, adrenaline coursing through me.
“You mistake my silence for obedience. I’ve survived worse than whispered threats and borrowed power. If you’re relying on fear to keep me quiet…” I let the words hang for a beat. “You should reconsider who you’re dealing with.”
She studied me, her pale blue eyes narrowing with calculation. Then, without another word, she flicked her near-white ponytail over her shoulder and walked away.
I didn’t move until she disappeared. Her threats echoed in my mind long after.
By the time I entered the Bondward Wing, my steps were steady, my expression composed—even as something restless churned beneath the surface. Whatever they were planning, it wouldn’t matter. I would be gone long before they could act.
Women like them didn’t need truth to sharpen their knives. Only opportunity. And imagination. Men like Sevrak were predictable in their violence. Women like Lucina and Aelia were not.
“Found him?”