Chapter 14
THE ASSASSIN'S DILEMMA
SERAPHINA
The morning light filtering through the stained glass windows casts eerie patterns across the breakfast table, painting Malakai's sharp features in alternating shades of crimson and violet.
I push my food around my plate, hyper-aware of his gaze.
Yesterday's sparring session left my muscles aching.
Two weeks have passed since the corridor incident, and Malakai maintains constant surveillance.
The memory still burns beneath my skin—not just what happened, but how the entire court knows.
How they heard me. How they smelled my arousal, my slick, my complete surrender to my Alpha.
"Not hungry, Omega?" Malakai asks, his voice deceptively casual as he cuts into a piece of rare meat. Blood pools on his plate.
"I find my appetite diminishes in certain company," I reply, meeting his eyes.
His lips curl into that infuriating half-smile. "Strange. You seemed perfectly capable of tolerating my presence during yesterday's council meeting, our sparring session, and our evening meal. Is it the morning light that makes me more intolerable?"
Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I refuse to look away. "The council meeting was a political necessity. This breakfast is torture by choice."
"How refreshing," he remarks, taking a deliberate bite. "Most of the court only speaks such candid truths behind my back."
I open my mouth to deliver a scathing retort when a familiar scent teases my nostrils—jasmine and something wilder, more ancient. My stomach drops. Ivy is near, and from the sudden alertness in Malakai's posture, his shadows coiling more tightly, he senses something too.
A shimmer of silver light dances at the edge of my vision, just behind Malakai's shoulder. My fingers tighten around my fork.
Not now, Ivy. Please, not now.
"Something wrong?" Malakai asks, his shadows coiling more densely. "You've gone rather pale. And your scent just spiked with anxiety."
I force a smile. "Nothing at all. Just...contemplating the many ways I might poison your food without detection."
His laugh is genuine, startling in its warmth. "Points for honesty, though I should remind you of our fated mate bond. My death would hardly be comfortable for you."
"Some discomforts are worth enduring," I counter, trying to ignore Ivy, who has materialized more fully behind him, making obscene gestures that would scandalize even the most libertine courtier.
My eyes widen in horror as she begins a silent but graphic pantomime involving Malakai's shadows and what appears to be an extremely acrobatic position involving his knot. I choke on my tea.
"Something amusing?" Malakai's eyes narrow, his head beginning to turn.
"Headache," I blurt, pressing my fingertips to my temple. "A sudden, splitting headache."
Ivy freezes mid-gesture, then pouts dramatically.
Malakai studies me, suspicion evident in his expression. "A headache? How convenient. And here I thought perhaps you were seeing ghosts." His shadows stretch toward the space where Ivy hovers, but she darts higher, staying just out of their reach.
"Not ghosts," I say, rising from my chair. "Just the constant, pounding reminder that I'm bound to a monster."
Something flickers in his eyes—a momentary glimpse of hurt that he quickly masks behind familiar mockery.
"I need to lie down," I continue. "Unless you'd prefer I vomit across the breakfast table? I'm finding the smell of blood rather...provocative this morning."
The word choice is deliberate—provocative carrying implications in Omegaverse society. Malakai's eyes darken slightly, his scent shifting with interest before he catches himself.
Malakai rises with liquid grace, coming around the table. I brace myself, but he keeps a careful distance.
"Allow me to escort you to our chambers, then. We wouldn't want you collapsing in a corridor where just anyone might find you."
We walk side by side, but not touching. The fated mate bond pulses despite the physical distance.
"Your concern is overwhelming," I say dryly.
"Anything for my beloved mate." His smile is as sharp as glass. "Though I wonder…is it truly a headache, or merely an excuse to escape my company?"
"If I wanted to escape your company," I reply, "I would need a far more elaborate plan than feigning illness."
"Such as?"
"Elaboration requires planning. Planning requires privacy. Privacy is something you've denied me."
We walk in silence through the palace corridors. Perhaps seeking to defuse the tension, or maybe from genuine curiosity, he says suddenly, "Tell me about your childhood."
The request catches me off guard. "Why would you care about that?"
He shrugs. "Consider it an attempt at conventional marital conversation. Unless you prefer our usual discourse of threats and violence?"
"I—" I falter, unsure how to respond to this apparent olive branch. "It was...normal, I suppose. Until it wasn't."
"Normal by whose standards? Light Court nobles hardly live ordinary lives."
"We had gardens," I hear myself saying, memories surfacing unbidden. "My mother would take me there in the mornings. We'd name the birds that came to feed, making up elaborate stories about their secret lives when they flew away."
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "A fanciful pastime."
"She believed imagination was as important as combat training. She taught me to see possibilities where others saw only obstacles. She never treated me like a typical Omega—never told me I was too fragile or weak."
"She sounds unlike most Light Court nobles I've encountered."
I stop at my chamber doors, suddenly weary. "She was...special. She had a way of finding light in the darkest places."
"And when did this idyllic childhood end?" Malakai asks, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
The tenderness of the moment shatters as her death rushes back—her broken body, the distinctive shadow burns on her skin. Burns from magic like his.
"When Shadow Court soldiers murdered her," I say, ice crystallizing around each word. "When Alphas like you decided her light needed to be extinguished."
His expression darkens. "Be careful, Seraphina ."
"You were there," I cut him off, rage building within me. "My father told me everything. You were part of the shadow squad that crossed our borders that night."
Something flashes in his eyes—surprise, confusion?
"I've never crossed Light Court borders on raids.
Your father is either lying or mistaken about my involvement.
" His voice is dangerously soft. "Have you considered that the man who raised you to be a weapon might not be telling you the whole truth? "
The accusation strikes hard, momentarily stealing my breath.
"Rest well, Omega," he adds, his tone deceptively light. "Hatred is exhausting when built on shaky foundations."
Without another word, he turns and leaves. I enter our room and stay close to the door, listening.
As soon as his footsteps fade, Ivy materializes fully in the center of the room, her hair cycling through shades of silver and blue.
"Well, that was dramatic," she announces, crossing her arms. "Though I must say, that whole wistful childhood memory exchange was unexpectedly tender. Is the mighty assassin developing feelings for her monstrous Alpha?"
"The only feeling I'm developing is the urge to strangle a certain interfering fairy," I hiss, advancing on her. "What were you thinking, showing yourself like that? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"
Ivy flutters her eyelashes innocently. "Me? Dangerous? I'm just a helpful friend checking on your well-being after you've been avoiding me."
"Avoiding you? I've been under constant surveillance! Malakai hasn't left my side!"
"Details, details." She waves a dismissive hand. "I needed to talk to you. Besides, you should be thanking me for my last intervention."
Heat rises to my cheeks at the memory. "Thanking you? You drugged me with faerie dust that made me…"
"Made you finally release all that delicious tension?" she interrupts, grinning wickedly. "Honestly,Sera, you were wound tighter than a corseted virgin on her wedding night. You needed a good—"
"Don't say it," I warn.
"—fucking," she finishes smugly. "And proper knotting. From what I heard—and half the court heard and smelled—it was spectacular."
I lunge for her, but she darts just out of reach, laughing. "Oh, come on! You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it. The way you were screaming his name, begging for his knot—"
"That wasn't me! That was your dust!"
She snorts. "My dust doesn't create desires that aren't already there, sweet one. It just...lowers inhibitions. Removes barriers. Lets the true self emerge." She waggles her eyebrows. "And your true self apparently enjoys public displays of submission to your Alpha."
"I'm going to kill you," I growl, grabbing for her again. "Slowly. Painfully."
"Such gratitude!" She floats up toward the ceiling. "I’d best go, and let you calm down. Try not to do anything stupid like falling in love with Shadow Boy. Or letting him bite you. That mating mark would be awfully permanent."
"I'm not—"
Before I can finish, she vanishes completely, leaving only the faint scent of jasmine.
"Damn it, Ivy!" I call into the empty room, but there's no reply. I stand there for a moment, letting the silence settle around me. Ivy’s warnings echo in my head, but I push them aside.
I have more pressing concerns than Ivy's cryptic lectures about mating marks.
With Malakai believing me incapacitated and Ivy gone, I have a rare moment of true privacy—a chance to work on the nightshade extract I've been developing in secret.
I check the door to ensure it's properly locked, then cross to the windows and draw the heavy velvet curtains closed, plunging the room into semi-darkness. I light a single lamp—just enough illumination to work by without attracting attention.