Chapter 10 #2
"He forced the bond," I admit, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "Blood magic, shadow magic, the fated mate bond—all of it. I didn't even know what was happening until it was done. My father sent me here like a lamb to slaughter, and Malakai..." I can't finish the sentence.
Ivy's light flares angry red. "Typical Light Court nonsense.
All that talk of honor and wisdom, and they send their brightest flame into shadow without so much as a warning.
" She sits beside me on the bed. "But I'm here now.
And I'm going to help you figure this out, even if I have to turn the Shadow Boy into a particularly ugly toad to do it. "
The absurd image—Malakai with bulging eyes and warty skin—startles a laugh from me, though it sounds hollow. "Can you actually do that?"
"Probably not," she admits with a dismissive wave. "But I'd give it my best shot. The amount of magic it would take would probably turn my hair permanently green, but for you? Worth it."
I shake my head, grateful for her presence despite the circumstances. "How did you even get in here? The Shadow Court has wards against fae magic."
Ivy scoffs. "Please. Those wards were set by amateurs who think all fae are the same.
It's like trying to catch a shark with a butterfly net.
" She flicks her wrist, and a small shower of silver sparks erupts from her fingers.
"Besides, I'm not just any fae. I'm me. And I may have. ..anticipated this situation."
"What do you mean?" I ask, sensing there's more to her sudden appearance.
She looks almost embarrassed, which is rare for Ivy.
"I've been monitoring the shadow court for months, Sera.
Ever since your father started making those political moves, I had a feeling something like this might happen.
" She reaches into a pouch at her side and produces a tiny vial that glows with silvery-blue light.
"Essence of boundroot, mixed with tears of the twilight moth.
It will temporarily block the emotional connection of the bond, not completely, but enough to give you privacy in your own mind. "
I eye the vial with a mixture of hope and suspicion. "You had this ready?"
"I may be flighty, but I'm not stupid," she says with unusual seriousness. "Fated mate bonds are ancient magic, and they're dangerous. I've been studying them ever since I sensed the political winds shifting. This potion is the only thing I know that can help—at least temporarily."
"What aren't you telling me, Ivy?" I ask, recognizing the look in her eyes.
She sighs dramatically. "The potion has.
..side effects. Because nothing worth having comes without a price tag, obviously.
" She examines her nails. "The magic works by creating a barrier around your emotional center, but magical barriers are never perfect.
To block the flow of your feelings to him, it has to redirect that energy somewhere—which means you'll feel his emotions more strongly.
Think of it like plugging a drain—the water has to go somewhere. "
"I don't care," I say immediately. "Anything is better than him feeling my hatred, my plans."
"There's more," she continues, unusually somber.
"Extended use can blur the boundaries between your minds.
The potion doesn't just block—it creates a kind of magical feedback loop.
After two cycles, you might struggle to distinguish his thoughts from your own.
Some who've used it began to adopt the very traits they despised in their bonded.
Imagine that—you becoming a mini-Malakai. Delightful prospect."
The warning sends a chill through me, but I push it aside. "Can you make more?"
She nods. "Of course I can…but, Sera—" she approaches, her expression uncharacteristically serious, "—you can only take it twice.
After that, the effects become unpredictable.
Dangerous. And I don't mean 'oops my hair turned blue' dangerous.
I mean, 'who am I and why am I suddenly fond of shadow magic' dangerous. "
"So I have thirty days to figure out another solution," I say, calculating quickly. "Or to find a way to kill him that won't kill me, too."
Ivy glances nervously at my chamber door. "Speaking of which, we should probably wrap this up before Shadow Boy comes looking for his bride. The longer I stay, the more likely the palace's deeper wards will notice me."
"The potion," I say, holding out my hand.
Ivy places the tiny vial in my palm. "Drink it all. The effects will begin immediately. Try not to make that scrunched-up face you do when something tastes bad—it's unbecoming."
I uncork the vial, hesitating only briefly. "You're sure this won't harm me?"
"It won't harm your body," Ivy says, dropping her sarcastic tone.
"But his presence in your mind...it can be overwhelming.
Be careful, Sera. Don't lose yourself while trying to hide from him.
" Then, unable to maintain seriousness for long, she adds, "I'd hate to have to train a new human friend. The learning curve is exhausting."
Without further hesitation, I tip the vial to my lips and swallow its contents.
The effect is immediate and shocking. Fire spreads from my throat to my chest, then outward along my limbs. For a terrifying moment, I can't breathe, can't think, can't feel anything but the burning.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the sensation vanishes, and with it, the openness of the bond.
My grief for Asher, my hatred for Malakai, my fear and determination, all remain vivid within me, but I can feel a barrier forming, shielding these emotions from flowing through the bond to him.
Simultaneously, I become acutely aware of a foreign presence in my mind—distant for now, but unmistakably Malakai's consciousness, hovering at the edges of my awareness like a storm on the horizon.
"It worked," I breathe, feeling the strange duality of privacy and invasion.
"For now," Ivy says, her typical flippancy subdued.
"But, Sera, be careful. The potion shields him from your thoughts, but it leaves you more vulnerable to his.
The stronger his emotions, the more you'll feel them.
Don't let his mind influence yours. I rather like you as you are—annoyingly noble and all. "
I nod, though her warning seems distant through the new filter of calm that settles over me—a side effect, I realize, of the magical barrier.
Ivy moves to the window. "Two weeks," she reminds me. "And, Sera—" she turns back, her light dimming slightly, "—I'm sorry about Asher. He deserved better than to be caught in this mess."
The grief surges at his name, raw and undiminished, but I take comfort in knowing that Malakai can no longer sense it through our bond. "Yes," I agree, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "He did."
As Ivy slips out through the window, her silver light fading into the light, I move to my dressing table, composing myself. For the first time since Malakai claimed me, my mind feels like my own again—separate, protected, shielded from his awareness.
A knock at my chamber door makes me jump. When I open it, I find a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair cut close to his head, wearing the uniform of Malakai's personal guard. The silver insignia on his shoulder marks him as someone of rank.
When he sees me, he stands straighter, his posture shifting from casual to formal. But it's his eyes that stop me in my tracks, a particular shade of amber, so familiar it makes my heart stutter. Not identical to Asher's, but close enough to be his brother's or cousin's.
"Lady Seraphina," he says, bowing slightly. "I am Cade, assigned to your personal guard by Lord Malakai himself. I just wanted to make a brief introduction."
I can only stare, fighting the surge of hope and pain that threatens to overwhelm me. The way he looks at me, that slight tilt of his head, the almost imperceptible softening around his eyes, reminds me painfully of someone I've lost.
"You...you remind me of someone," I manage to say, my voice barely steady.
For a heartbeat, his composure cracks. Pain flashes across his features, raw and familiar, before the mask slides back into place. "Loss has a way of marking us all, my lady," he says, his voice rougher now. "Some marks run deeper than others."
I want to ask what he means, want to demand answers to questions I can barely form, but he's already stepping back and walking away like he can't speak anymore words.