Chapter 22
THE UNWELCOME GUEST
MALAKAI
Two days.
Two days of Seraphina's heat consuming us both—her desperate pleas, the excessive slick coating my sheets, her body demanding my knot every few hours until we were both raw and exhausted.
Two days of her nest becoming our entire world, of feeding her between waves, of holding her through the fever, of knotting her so many times I lost count.
Two days of her calling me Alpha with such desperate need that it rewrote something fundamental in my chest.
The heat broke this morning, finally, leaving her sleeping deeply in our nest while I dealt with court matters I'd been ignoring. My bite mark on her throat is still fresh, still tender—a permanent brand that sends satisfaction through my Alpha every time I see it.
Now, sitting on my throne as petitioners drone about border disputes, my mind keeps wandering back to her. The way she surrendered completely. The way she trusted me with her most vulnerable state. The way our bond deepened with each knotting until I could feel her heartbeat as my own.
My fingertips drum an impatient rhythm against the obsidian armrest. I need to return to her soon. She'll wake disoriented, sore, possibly embarrassed by how thoroughly she submitted during her heat.
"My lord?" Emmett's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Your attention seems elsewhere."
I fix him with a withering glare, my Alpha scent flooding with irritation. "I'm listening intently to this fascinating dispute about whose sheep wandered into whose cabbage patch."
Emmett's mouth twitches. "The farmer is requesting compensation for crops destroyed by shadow beasts, not sheep."
"Shadow beasts, sheep—both leave dung everywhere and make too much noise." I wave dismissively. "Tell him it's an honor to have his pathetic crops trampled by creatures of the Shadow Court. Next."
"You execute people for suggesting less foolish ideas," Emmett murmurs under his breath.
"Did you say something, General?"
"I said perhaps we should consider his position, my lord."
"Fine." My good mood from having finally mated my Omega makes me unexpectedly generous. "Pay him. Double. Triple. Whatever makes him stop talking." I lean toward Emmett. "Though remind me to feed the next petitioner to the shadow hounds if they're equally tedious."
Emmett's face remains impressively impassive. "Feeding citizens to shadow hounds creates extensive records to maintain. Which you despise reviewing. Which means the task falls to me."
"Your suffering sustains me almost as much as theirs would. It's mutually beneficial."
My thoughts drift back to the truth I gave Seraphina —that our fated mate bond can never be broken.
The realization flickered across her face like shadow and light.
She is truly mine, forever bound by fate and sealed by my bite.
The knowledge should bring me satisfaction. Instead, it leaves me unsettled.
Because I felt this way once before. With Julia. And that ended in blood and betrayal and two centuries of refusing to even consider another mate.
"The court session is concluded," I announce abruptly, rising from the throne. The remaining petitioners exchange confused glances.
"But my lord," the court chamberlain protests, "there are still seventeen—"
My shadows lash out, cracking like a whip against the marble floor and leaving a deep fissure. The chamber falls silent as my Alpha scent floods with dominance.
As the courtiers scatter, Emmett approaches. "Should I reschedule the remaining petitioners?"
"Feed them to the shadow hounds for all I care."
"As tempting as that sounds, it would create significant administrative burdens." Emmett falls into step beside me, his formal mask slipping now that we're alone. "May I ask what has you in such a pleasant mood today?"
"I had an interesting night."
Through the bond, I feel Seraphina stir in our chambers, slowly waking.
"With Lady Seraphina, I presume?" When I shoot him a dangerous look, he merely shrugs.
"Half the palace heard the walls cracking in your private chambers.
The servants are wagering on whether the east wing will collapse before winter.
And there were reports of Omega cries that suggested a mating bite was finally given. "
Heat flares in my chest—Alpha pride. Let them know their Shadow Lord finally claimed his Omega so thoroughly that the stone couldn't withstand it.
"Speaking of entertainment," Emmett says carefully, "Lady Isla has requested another audience this morning. She's been our guest for three days now and grows more insistent with each passing hour. She waits in the small council chamber."
I had already seen the Beta woman. What could be so urgent?
"Ah, our twilight guest with wandering hands still hasn't departed. I thought after the interruption by my Omega, she might have taken the hint."
"Apparently not. And based on the smile she wore at this morning's meal, I suspect she may have overheard some of last night's activities.
The way she inquires about the 'structural integrity' of the east wing is particularly pointed.
As is her curiosity about whether the Shadow Lady is 'recovering well from such vigorous renovations. '"
The idea of Isla hearing Seraphina surrender to me, hearing my Omega beg for my bite, is both satisfying and strangely invasive. That was private—the completion of our mating bond, her screams as I claimed her completely.
"Tell her to depart for her own territories. I'm busy brooding dramatically about my newly mated status."
"She's been waiting since dawn. Lady Isla is most persistent about the urgency of these border incidents."
Border incidents. The reports from our patrols have been troubling—six engagements with Light Court forces in the past month, all in disputed territories near the Neutral Zones. Each incident escalates tensions further, and Isla's people always seem conveniently positioned to mediate.
I pause, an idea forming. Seraphina's jealousy was delicious—the way she surrendered herself completely afterward, begging for my bite, even more so.
What might happen if I provoke that possessive Omega fire again?
And perhaps my mate's strategic mind could prove useful in determining Isla's true motives.
I sense Seraphina's growing alertness, her Omega instincts immediately aware of my Alpha satisfaction and plotting.
"On second thought, show her to the small council chamber," I decide, a wicked smile curving my lips. "And send word to my mate. Tell her I require her presence for a matter of great importance."
"Lady Seraphina? At an official meeting?" Emmett's eyebrows rise. "Are you certain that's wise after last night's mating completion?"
"I want to see how my Omega responds to Lady Isla's particular brand of diplomacy. Besides, a jealous mate is an entertaining mate. And she may prove more politically astute than expected."
"And if she decides to eliminate the competition? Omegas can be quite territorial about their bonded Alphas. Especially newly mated ones."
"Even better. Court life has been dreadfully dull since my recovery. And I'm curious to see how my Omega's possessiveness manifests now that she bears my mark."
Seraphina's spike of awareness bleeds through the bond—she knows I'm planning something. I sense her wariness, her exhaustion, Perfect.
* * *
By the time I reach the small council chamber, Lady Isla is seated at the table with two of her advisors. When I enter, she rises immediately, her Beta scent—vanilla and amber—filling the space as she dismisses her companions.
"Lord Makalai," she purrs, her amber eyes drinking me in. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about our interrupted tour."
She looks fresh in a silver-gray gown that complements her silver-streaked dark hair. The neckline plunges daringly low, displaying Beta curves. After three days as a palace guest, she has clearly chosen her wardrobe with deliberate intent.
But she doesn't understand. I have a mate now. An Omega. The only scent I want is vanilla and light magic and sweet Omega musk.
"Lady Isla." I acknowledge her with a slight nod. "I understand these border incidents have grown urgent enough to extend your state mission."
Her lips curve into a knowing smile. "I must admit, I found myself quite stimulated by your palace yesterday before we were so unfortunately interrupted by your wife.
" She moves closer. "I had trouble sleeping last night.
There seemed to be quite a commotion in the east wing.
Something about walls cracking? And such passionate cries—was the Shadow Lady well? It sounded quite intense."
The implication is clear—she overheard my night with Seraphina.
My Alpha preens with smug satisfaction. Yes, you heard. You heard exactly who she belongs to.
"Renovations," I reply smoothly, though my Alpha scent floods with cold warning. "I find regular structural improvements keep the court alert. One never knows when a wall might come down. Particularly during certain vigorous activities."
"How fascinating." She steps closer, either not reading or deliberately ignoring my Alpha warning. "I've always admired Alphas who take a direct approach to their dominion. Perhaps we could continue our private tour today? I'm particularly interested in seeing your personal chambers."
Before I can respond, the door opens.
Seraphina enters, and the sight of her momentarily steals my focus from everything else.
She wears a gown of midnight blue that matches my formal attire, her hair arranged in an intricate style that exposes the elegant line of her neck—and the fresh mating mark at her throat. Two perfect crescent scars where my fangs pierced her scent gland, visible and unmistakable.
My Alpha purrs with deep satisfaction. Mine.
The silver infinity pendant I gave her hangs just above the mating mark—my gift and my bite, displayed for all to see.