Chapter 4 #3
The accusation stings because I suspect it's true. My father's revelation yesterday confirmed what I've wondered in my darkest moments—that my entire life has been carefully orchestrated. That even my training, my Omega designation, was just another piece in his political strategy.
"It doesn't matter," I say finally. "Whether it's for my father, my court, or my own sense of duty, I'm going through with this marriage. This claiming."
Asher stares at me for a long moment, his Alpha scent heavy with grief and frustrated possession, then nods once, reluctantly. "Then at least let me help."
He reaches into his tunic and withdraws a small object wrapped in dark cloth. When he unwraps it, I see a delicate silver chain with a pendant—a crescent moon crafted from a material that seems to absorb light rather than reflect it.
"Shadowstone," he explains, lifting the necklace.
"Rare, even in the Shadow Court. It absorbs and stores magical energy—including shadow magic and Alpha pheromones.
It won't protect you completely, but if Malakai ever directs his powers against you, or if his Alpha dominance becomes overwhelming, this might buy you enough time to defend yourself.
It can also help mask your Omega scent for short periods. "
I turn, allowing him to fasten the chain around my neck. The pendant rests just below the hollow of my throat, surprisingly warm against my skin. Near my scent glands.
"Where did you get this?" I ask, touching it gently.
"Best not to ask." His smile is grim. "Just know that several people would be very unhappy to discover it missing."
I tuck the pendant beneath my collar, out of sight, feeling it settle against my skin like a second heartbeat. The shadowstone is warm, almost pulsing with energy. "Thank you."
Asher's hands linger on my shoulders, then slide up to frame my face. "There's something else you should know about Malakai," he says, expression serious. "Something that wasn't in any of our briefings."
"What is it?"
"He has a rare form of shadow magic—one that allows him to sense emotions, particularly fear and deception.
It's how he's survived so many assassination attempts.
He can literally feel betrayal coming. And as an Alpha.
.." Asher's jaw tightens. "His Alpha senses are enhanced by his shadow magic.
He'll be able to read your emotional state through scent even better than most Alphas.
Maybe even through your suppressants and the mate bond. "
A chill runs through me. This complicates things significantly. An Alpha who can sense emotions is dangerous enough. One with shadow magic enhancing those abilities is nearly impossible to deceive. "How did you learn this?"
"A shadow mage defected to our side recently. He was part of Malakai's inner circle before falling out of favor. The Order only learned of it after I got your message and began preparing to meet you here."
"And you decided I needed to know," I say, understanding the risk he's taken in telling me this. The risk of being here at all.
"I decided I wasn't going to let you walk into that snake pit without every advantage I could give you.
" His thumbs brush my cheekbones gently.
"Be careful, Sera. Don't underestimate him.
He's more dangerous than even the Order realizes.
And if he truly is your mate..." He swallows hard.
"The bond will complicate everything. Your emotions.
Your instincts. Your heat cycles. Everything. "
"I thought I knew his patterns—his arrogance, his cruelty, his intelligence—but this changes things. I'll need to adjust my approach," I say, running through possibilities in my mind. The scent-reading, the enhanced Alpha senses, the potential mate bond. "I'll be prepared."
Asher's expression softens. "Always so confident. It's what I've always loved about you—your absolute certainty."
"Not always," I admit, allowing myself this small vulnerability. "Right now, I'm terrified."
I look away, ashamed of my confession. Assassins aren't supposed to feel fear, let alone admit to it. Omegas definitely aren't supposed to admit to fear before their claiming.
Asher places a finger under my chin, gently tilting my face up until I have no choice but to meet his gaze.
His eyes, the color of amber honey in sunlight, search mine.
He doesn't speak, doesn't offer empty platitudes or false promises.
Instead, he leans in slowly, giving me time to pull away if I choose.
I don't.
His lips touch mine with unexpected gentleness. Warm, slightly chapped from the forest air, they move against mine with care. The familiar taste of him, pine and something spicy like cinnamon, floods my senses. His hand slides from my chin to cup my cheek.
"Sera," he whispers against my mouth, my name a prayer and a plea. His hands slide beneath my tunic, calloused palms warm against my skin. "We don't have much time."
"Then don't waste it talking," I murmur, pulling him down to the soft moss beside the stream.
At this moment, I don't care about my mission or my duty.
I need to feel something real, something that belongs just to me, before I surrender to a life bound to a man I despise.
Before another Alpha's bite marks my throat and his knot locks inside me.
Asher's mouth trails down my neck as I arch beneath him, carefully avoiding my scent glands.
We undress each other with desperation and need.
His skin is golden in the filtered light, marked with scars I know the stories behind.
I trace them with my fingertips, each one a mission survived, a moment when death came close but failed to claim him.
When he enters me, I gasp, clutching his shoulders.
Our bodies move together in a harmony we've perfected over years of stolen moments like this.
I lose myself in the sensation, in the weight of him above me, in the sound of his breath catching when I move just so.
His Alpha scent mixes with my Omega pheromones in a way that's pleasant but not overwhelming. Compatible but not fated.
A branch cracks somewhere in the darkness, but I'm too focused on Asher to care. The shadows pool strangely around the clearing's edge, but the boundary has always done odd things to light.
"Look at me," he whispers, and I open my eyes to meet his gaze. The raw emotion I find there makes my chest ache. We're not just lovers seeking release; we're two people clinging to something precious before the tide of duty and politics tears us apart. Before I become another Alpha's mate.
"Stay with me," I breathe, though I know it's impossible. "Just for now, stay with me."
"Always," he promises, his movements growing more urgent.
I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, trying to memorize the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of his skin against my lips.
My body responds to his familiar touch, pleasure building steadily.
Safe. Controlled. Nothing like the overwhelming, biological imperative I fear will consume me with Malakai.
This is the last time I'll touch someone who doesn't terrify me.
The last time I'll feel desire without the overwhelming weight of a mate bond forcing my surrender.
Tonight, Malakai's claiming bite will rewrite my biology, and Asher will become just a memory—a road not taken, a life I'll never live.
For a moment, I sense eyes on us, but Asher's touch drives the paranoia away.
The clearing around us fades away, the boundary between Shadow and Light irrelevant as we create our own world in this moment. Nothing exists beyond his touch, his breath mingling with mine, the building tension coiling tighter with each movement.
Asher thrusts into me, and I'm so close to climax, my body trembling on the edge, but a deep voice shatters everything.
"Don't stop on my account."
I freeze beneath Asher, every muscle locking. That voice—dark cedar and winter smoke made audible. An Alpha voice that makes my Omega biology scream in recognition even as my mind screams in terror.
Malakai.
The shadows beneath the nearest tree pulse once—a heartbeat of darkness—and then he steps out of the shadow itself, his form solidifying from the darkness like a nightmare taking shape. How long has he been here? How much has he seen?
The shadowstone pendant against my throat burns suddenly, painfully hot.
But I'm still locked together with Asher, still full of another Alpha's cock while my mate watches.
There is no recovery from this. No explanation that will save us.
The wedding might still happen today—but I've just guaranteed my wedding night will be a horror show.