CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #3
Tears slipped free before I could stop them, hot and traitorous in the cool night air.
Jeremy looked away, his expression a fractured mosaic of pain and anger.
It was heartbreaking, seeing the male I’d grown up with dissolve into this wounded stranger.
"I said I'd wait," he said, his voice dropping into a quiet, hollow register. "But I don't think I can watch you with him."
He spat the word like it was venom.
That made my blood boil, my guilt giving way to a fierce, protective spark.
"I'll always love you, Jeremy," I said honestly. "But I'm not in love with you anymore."
Emotion surged through the bond from the male standing across the courtyard.
"You were comfort," I continued, my voice gaining strength. "Familiar. Safe. Everything I thought I needed. But I've changed. I'm going to be a Queen, and I need to learn who I am on my own."
"And with him…"
Jeremy's face crumpled at the shift in my tone.
"…I feel alive."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then, the grief in Jeremy's eyes curdled into something sharp and bitter.
"With him? Really, Ava?" He let out a harsh, dry laugh. "How fucking low."
I stepped out of his arms, putting a physical distance between us that felt a thousand miles wide.
"I won't say something I'll regret," I said, my voice flat. "Because I know you're hurting."
Jeremy looked at me like I was a ghost—someone he recognized but couldn't touch.
I held his gaze, unblinking. "I choose Asher. And nothing you say will change that."
Behind me, the bond flared—not with heat this time, but with a cold, focused intent.
For the first time all night, Asher moved.
"We're still betrothed, Ava," Jeremy seethed, his voice slicing through the music.
His green eyes blazed with wounded fury.
"You really think I'm going to let you fuck him and then run back to me when he breaks your heart? Because that's what will happen."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper.
"You only choose him because of the bond, Ava. You're a puppet. He doesn't actually love you—it's the link talking. He just wants power. He wants your fucking throne, and he's using that tether to mind-fuck you into giving it to him."
My heart faltered, a cold, hollow void opening in my chest.
The throne. The power.
Was I just a means to an end?
Was what I felt for him just a magical side effect?
A sliver of doubt slipped beneath my certainty.
The bond flared—a pulse of dark, wounded heat. It wasn't anger.
It was betrayal.
He’d felt it. That tiny flicker of uncertainty. And the hurt that came back through the bond nearly broke me.
And then I saw him.
Asher didn't run; he walked.
Every step was silent. Controlled. Terrifying.
He stopped directly behind Jeremy, silent as death.
His silver eyes narrowed on Jeremy.
He felt it. He felt my doubt, and in the silence between us, the storm finally broke.
"You're wrong, Eldrethine."
Jeremy’s eyes widened at the coldness in my tone, at the sharp use of his last name. His fingers still bit into my skin.
He froze, his fingers still biting into my skin.
"It's not the fucking bond," I said, each word precise and lethal. "I love him. More than I ever loved you. More than I ever thought was possible."
I stared down at my wrist—at his hand wrapped so tightly around me—and felt the last lingering shred of my guilt evaporate.
felt the last shred of my guilt evaporate. In its place, something colder settled. Resolve. I looked back up at him, my gaze as hard as obsidian.
"He's mine now. And our betrothal? Consider it over."
His grip didn't loosen. If anything, it tightened until I could feel the bone beneath.
Asher’s voice slipped through the bond, low and smoky.
"You scared me there for a second, princess."
I looked past Jeremy’s shoulder and met Asher’s silver eyes, satisfaction pulsing through the bond.
"Got to keep you guessing, Maddox," I purred back.
But whatever playfulness had been there vanished when his gaze dropped to Jeremy’s hand around my wrist.
He reached out and tapped Jeremy's shoulder—a casual, dismissive gesture that felt like the click of a trigger.
Oh gods.
eremy turned slowly, his entire body rigid with suppressed rage.
His eyes burned with a feral green light; Asher's were dead calm, as still as the surface of a black lake.
Asher stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like he hadn't just walked up behind a ticking earth bomb.
“You should probably let go of her,” Asher said, his voice deceptively calm. "Unless, of course, you'd like to lose that hand. I'm not particularly picky about which one I take."
My heart dropped straight into my godsdamn stomach.
Ember and Ezra froze beside us, their magic flickering at their fingertips.
The music pounded across the courtyard, but inside our little circle, no one moved. The air drew tight.
It felt like we were caged, the very air drawn tight like a bowstring pulled to its breaking point.
Jeremy dropped my hand.
And then, without warning, Jeremy swung.
His fist connected squarely with Asher’s jaw.
All. Hell. Broke. Loose.