Sin
Mate.
That was a word used in stories, a fantasy—not something that could be real. Her throat tightened, her vision blurring briefly as disbelief gripped her, making it hard to breathe.
Was he serious?
He laughed, the sound full of joy as he looked down at her, his face softening. “What is your name?”
Her face flushed as the absurdity of the moment hit her—they had just shared their bodies, and yet, they didn’t even know each other’s names. It was ridiculous.
“Sin,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice trembling with fear and confusion.
Max smiled at her, the warmth in it almost overwhelming, though a dangerous edge was unmistakable in his eyes. “Sin,” he parroted, his gaze sweeping over her. “Wickedly lovely, just like you.”
Her cheeks burned hotter, his gaze making her feel exposed and vulnerable. “And yours?” she managed to ask, though her throat was dry.
An arrogant smirk curled across his lips. “You’re joking, right?”
She swallowed hard, nerves twisting her gut as she took in the luxury of the room. How he was dressed far better than everyone in the ballroom.
“I am Prince Maximus,” he said, and she stared, her heart tightening.
“Max,” she breathed, the name feeling dangerous and intimate, like a forbidden word. It didn’t feel real. How could she—a half-witch servant—be tethered to a prince?
He nodded, his eyes gleaming with something between hunger and amusement. “Only those close to me call me that.”
Sin’s heart pounded as the implications of his words sank in. He was serious. He truly believed she was his mate.
“I’m a bastard,” she found herself whispering, surprising herself with her honesty. “My stepmother named me to remind my father of his mistakes.”
Max’s smile softened as he gently tilted her chin up, his thumb brushing her jaw. “Then let me be the one to make that name precious,” he said, his voice low, his eyes locking with hers. “Not a reminder of the past, but a future you deserve.”
The weight of his words twisted something deep inside her, something she was afraid to confront.
“How insanely lucky I am,” Max said, his tone shifting, his joy at their supposed connection evident. “To be mated to someone as beautiful as you are.”
Her breath caught, the air turning thick as his words settled between them. The warmth flooding her body was equal parts thrill and terror. “Wait… You’re not joking?”
Max’s smile faltered, eyes narrowing on Sin. “You can’t feel it?” he asked, his voice low. “I felt you the moment you walked into the ballroom.”
The intensity of his gaze unnerved her, but deep down, she had felt it too—the inexplicable pull. Yet, it was all too much. Her glamour was temporary. She wasn’t what she seemed, and sooner or later, he would see it.
By the time the sun rose, the magic would fade. He would see her as she truly was—scarred, ugly, a useless half-witch without any power. The thought burned her more than the fire in his eyes. Would he still look at her the same way? Would he still want her, or would he toss her aside?
Max shifted, turning them over, still inside her. “And you’re not leaving this room tonight. Understand?” His voice held a possessiveness, a growl that made her pulse race.
Though he looked at her with such tenderness, the panic forced its way inside her heart. A century, she had been locked in a cage, she and her magic. Would there ever be a world she lived in where she was free?
His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her lips.
“You have nothing to fear from me,” he murmured, his voice soothing.
“You are my mate, and I will treasure you always.” His lips pressed softly to her cheek, trailing down her jaw as her eyes fluttered shut, her breath hitching at the gentle touch.
The intimacy of the moment tightened the space between them, each brush of his lips lingering, as though time had slowed to capture it all.
His hands roamed her body, and she felt herself responding, her fear drowning beneath the weight of his touch.
They moved together again and again in the fire-lit room, until her body was trembling, and her mind blank with need.
Yet beneath the pleasure, there was a sense of desperation—an awareness that the dream would soon end.
When he finally fell asleep beside her, his arm draped over her waist, Sin lay there, staring at the ceiling. Her heart was heavy, the fear gnawing at her insides until she couldn’t take it anymore.
She slipped out of his bed, her feet barely making a sound as she crept out into the darkened hallway.
Her heart hammered in her chest, and her bare feet padded against the stone floors.
The pull of him was unbearable. Her feet ached to turn back, to be near him again.
But the gnawing fear in her chest was louder—louder than the bond, louder than the whispers of magic, louder than hope.
The night air was sharp as she found Magnolia’s horse tied to a tree at the edge of the forest. Her hands trembled as she worked to untie it, her fingers fumbling with the knots while her eyes darted around, constantly glancing over her shoulder, fearing pursuit.
She quickly untied it, mounting the saddle with trembling hands.
Each breath was ragged as she urged the horse forward, its hooves pounding against the forest floor.
The weight of what had happened bore down on her, threatening to crush her.
She needed Magnolia—needed a permanent glamour so Max would never know how ugly she truly was.
The fae coveted pretty things. And she didn’t think being his mate would be enough with the amount of scars all over her body, especially the massive one going down the side of her face.
Things had changed. This was no longer a night of freedom in exchange for her life. She had a mate. He was a prince. A future now beckoned her.
As Magnolia’s cottage came into view, relief—an illusion. The forest was eerily quiet—too quiet. Each hoofbeat was too loud. The echoes practically bounced off the stillness. A chill ran across her skin.
Shadows shifted at the edge of her sight. Her instincts screamed—danger was close. Her breaths turned shallow. Every creak of the saddle made her flinch.
Suddenly—a rough and brutal hand yanked her from the saddle.
The ground rushed up to meet her as her father’s iron grip dug into her arm, his fae strength unstoppable. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, her vision blurring as the world spun chaotically. Pain shot through her body, her heart pounding in her ears as panic seized her.
Her stepsisters stood over her, flanking him, their faces twisted in malicious grins. From Sin’s perspective on the ground, they appeared towering and menacing, their shadows cast long in the dim light, making them seem larger and more imposing.
Behind them, Vivienne stepped forward, her steps slow and deliberate, triggering a memory Sin had long forgotten.
Vivienne’s eyes narrowed, her gaze cutting through the darkness with venomous intent.
“I see someone had a good time tonight,” she hissed.
“And I see you paid Magnolia a visit. Quite the glamour, isn’t it? ”
Sin’s heart pounded. Aside from her appearance, how did they know it was Magnolia? Did they know each other? Was this a trick?
Vivienne’s eyes locked on the glass stilettos on her feet. Her face darkened, rage twisting her features. “These are mine!” she spat, yanking them off Sin’s feet with brutal force. “You think you can deceive royalty?”
Sin tried to protest, but her throat closed up, her voice barely escaping in a strangled whisper.
She struggled to find her words, but the hatred in Vivienne’s glare silenced her completely, her helplessness settling like a weight on her chest. Before she could say anything, her father appeared, his face twisted with disgust. He shoved her back down, his boot pressing into her chest.
“You disgust me,” he growled, his voice echoing through the dark, empty surroundings, each hateful word bouncing off the cold stone walls. A shadow fell over Sin as he loomed above her, his presence growing larger, more menacing. “I should have let you die with your mother.”
Rage flared within her, hot and uncontrollable. Beneath her skin, her magic roared to life—wild and untamed. But she pushed it down, terrified of what would happen if she let it loose. Sin respected none of these people, but her father least of all. He disgusted her, and the feeling was mutual.
Her father dragged her back to the manor, her feet scraping against the rough ground, each step jarring her with pain.
Her skin tore with every stumble, scrapes on her legs burning.
The agony made her want to scream, but she bit down on her lip, tasting blood—she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
Her arms ached from his iron grip, and she could feel her skin tearing where his fingers dug in.
Her feet skidded on the dirt, her legs buckling as she tried to keep up.
He finally threw her down into the cold, dark cellar.
The stone floor slammed into her side, pain flaring as cold seeped into her bones.
Vivienne’s mocking voice drifted down, barely registering through the haze of agony.
The door slammed shut, sealing her in darkness with Vivienne and her father.
Sin lay there, body trembling, the raw power of her magic thrumming beneath her skin like a caged beast, threatening to burst. The nightmare wasn’t over—it had only just begun.