Chapter 23 #2
"She pats my arm with mock sympathy, and I know she's trying to distract me.
"I didn't think you wanted the potion to be fair.
Not after all the talk around the palace.
The walls have ears in this place. And mouths.
And they're all talking about how the Shadow Lord finally completed his mating bond so thoroughly he brought down literal stonework.
" She fans herself theatrically. "The cries were apparently magnificent.
Very enthusiastic begging for the bite, from what I heard.
Got to say, I am almost impressed. Did not think you had it in you. Or rather, had him in—"
"If you finish that sentence, I will personally pluck every feather from your wings," I threaten, though there's no real heat in it.
"Kinky," she replies with a waggle of her eyebrows. "Did you learn that from Shadow Boy? He seems the type for recreational feather-plucking. Or wait—was that what cracked the wall? Some elaborate bondage scenario involving—"
"Ivy!"
She cackles, the sound like silver bells.
"Your face! Worth it for that alone." Her expression shifts to something more serious.
"But seriously, Sera, what is going on with you two?
Because one moment he is playing the possessive Alpha, deliberately trying to make you jealous, and the next he is practically pushing you out the door so he can be alone with Diplomat Desperate.
That's not normal behavior with a freshly mated Omega. "
I slump against the wall, suddenly exhausted. "I do not know. I cannot figure him out." I glance back toward the observatory. "Through the bond, I could sense him withdrawing. As if something shut down inside him."
"Interesting," Ivy muses. "Did anything specific trigger it?"
I think back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment. "It was after I admitted the observatory was beautiful. He said something about having the same reaction when he first saw it, and then... something changed. Pain flooded through our mating bond. Old grief."
"Huh," Ivy says, her silver-blonde hair shifting to a thoughtful blue.
"Sounds like you may have hit a nerve without realizing it.
Certain places can trigger painful memories for someone who has lived as long as he has, especially somewhere as old as that observatory.
Particularly memories involving other Omegas. "
"What do you mean?"
"Just that when you have been alive for centuries, some locations become loaded with ghosts," she explains, her voice uncharacteristically serious.
"And given how he was touching those star charts, I would bet there is a specific memory tied to that place.
Probably involving his first mate—the one whose name he screamed while inside you. "
"You think it reminded him of something? Or someone?" A name flashes through my mind—Julia. The name Malakai whispered during our encounter in his study, the name that made him recoil as if struck.
I'm about to ask more when I notice Ivy's expression. Despite her flippant words, something in her eyes seems off—a tightness around the edges, a wariness I've rarely seen in her.
"What is wrong?" I ask. "You are not your usual annoying self."
"Me? I'm perfectly fine," she replies, but her wings flutter nervously. "Just concerned about my favorite Omega messing up her assassination mission by developing inconvenient feelings for the target. And completing a mating bond. That's pretty much game over for assassination plans."
"I do not have feelings for him," I insist automatically, even as something inside me purrs at the memory of his bite.
"Uh-huh," she says, clearly unconvinced. "The wall-shattering mating completion is purely professional research, then? Know thy enemy in biblical terms and all that?"
"It is complicated," I mutter, knowing how pathetic it sounds.
"It always is with immortal Alphas," she sighs. "Look, Sera, I need to tell you something important. Something I've discovered about fated mate bonds while trying to alter the potion and that you need to—"
She opens her mouth to continue, but her gaze shifts to something behind me, and her entire form shimmers with alarm.
"Someone is coming," she whispers urgently. "Light Court magic. Omega designation. I have to go—this is not safe. Find me later in your chambers." She vanishes just as footsteps echo down the corridor.
"Sera?"
I freeze at the familiar voice. Slowly, I turn to face my brother, Cassian, rounding the corner with an expression that suggests he's been searching for me. His Light Court ceremonial armor gleams even in the dim corridor lighting.
"Cassian," I breathe, momentarily forgetting everything else. "What are you doing here? I thought you had returned to the Light Court."
"I was assigned to accompany Lady Isla's official mission, which meant returning here sooner than planned," he says, his voice cool in a way I have never heard directed at me before.
His eyes immediately find the fresh mark at my throat, and his Alpha scent floods with shock and distress.
"I have been meaning to talk to you since I arrived, but I had a few state assignments that kept me busy.
" His jaw tightens. "Since I have been here, I have heard the rumors.
And now I can see the mark. He bit you. You completed the bond. "
"Rumors?" I repeat, though the sinking feeling in my stomach tells me exactly what he means.
"About my sister," he says, stepping closer, "and how enthusiastically she's embraced her role as the Shadow Lord's mate.
How she begged for his bite. How she screamed for him.
" His voice drops. "And I heard about the heat.
Two days, Sera. Two days locked in his chambers while the entire palace heard you begging for your Alpha. "
My face burns with humiliation, but underneath it, anger flares. "You want to talk about the heat, Cassian? Fine."
"The servants are talking," he continues, his voice tight. "About the slick, about the way you screamed his name, about how he barely left your side for two days straight. They're saying you're completely bonded now. That there's no going back."
"Of course there's no going back!" I snap. "The fated bond triggered the heat. The heat required an Alpha's knot or I would have died from fever. Those were my choices—let him knot me, or die screaming. You're an Alpha. You KNOW how this works."
His face pales slightly. "I know, but—"
"But nothing," I cut him off. "The incomplete bond destabilized my Omega biology.
My body forced the issue because it wanted to survive.
And the bite?" I touch my throat. "That wasn't about want.
That was about not dying from heat fever.
The claiming bite regulates the heat, stabilizes the biology.
Without it, I could have suffered permanent damage or death. "
He's quiet for a moment, his Alpha scent shifting to something like shame. "You're right. I do know how it works." He runs a hand through his hair. "I heard the rumors and I got angry. I wanted someone to blame for this mess."
"So you blamed me," I say flatly.
"I'm sorry," he says, and he sounds genuine. "I don't fully understand what you went through because I've never experienced heat. But I do know about fated bonds, and I know you couldn't have fought it." He looks genuinely distressed. "I was cruel. Forgive me."
Some of the anger drains from me. This is still my brother. My sweet, scholarly brother who's trying to understand.
"I forgive you," I say quietly.
Relief washes over his face. He steps forward, reaching for my hand. "Thank you, Sera. I know this situation is impossible. I know you're doing your best to survive it."
I nod, feeling the tension between us ease.
Then he adds, almost as an afterthought, "Though I do wonder.
.. if Mother were still alive, what would she think?
" His voice is gentle, not accusing, but the words hit like a blade.
"Seeing you wear his mark. Knowing you're bonded to her killer.
Would she understand? Or would it break her heart all over again? "
I freeze. The question cuts deeper than any accusation. Because I've been asking myself the same thing every day since the bite.
"I..." My throat closes. "I don't know."
Cassian seems to realize what he's done. "Sera, I didn't mean—"
"You should go," I say abruptly, pulling my hand away. Tears are burning behind my eyes and I refuse to let him see them.
"Sera, please—"
"Just go, Cassian," I repeat, my voice breaking.
He hesitates, clearly torn, then nods slowly. "We'll talk later. At dinner, perhaps?"
I don't answer. I can't.
He walks away, his footsteps echoing in the corridor, and I'm left standing there with his question ringing in my ears.
Mother would be ashamed. She would be heartbroken. She would look at me wearing Malakai's mark and see betrayal, not survival.
Wouldn't she?
Something inside me shatters. The brother who has been my constant support, my only real family, walking away because I have become something he cannot recognize. Something he cannot accept.
I want to run after him, to explain, to make him understand.
But what would I say? That sometimes, when Malakai touches me, I forget to hate him?
That in the darkness of night, wrapped in his shadows and his scent, I find a perverse freedom I have never known before?
That when his fangs pierced my throat, I sang with such joy I couldn't stop myself from screaming his name?
That the bond between us feels less like a prison and more like a revelation with each passing day?
The truth is too complicated, too shameful to articulate even to myself.
Rage and grief tangle inside me, a toxic blend that makes me want to scream, to break something, to hurt someone as badly as I'm hurting now.
I find myself moving blindly through the corridors, vision blurred with unshed tears, my body vibrating with emotions I can barely contain. I can feel Malakai's sudden alertness—he senses my distress—but I slam walls up against the connection, not wanting his comfort right now.
I pass a delicate vase—some priceless Shadow Court artifact—and before I can think, my hand lashes out, sending it crashing to the floor.
The sound of shattering porcelain brings a moment of savage satisfaction that evaporates almost instantly.
I don't stop. My feet carry me faster through the winding hallways of the palace, away from the observatory, away from Malakai and Isla, away from where Ivy's words still linger in the air like poison.
Everyone is against me—Malakai with his deliberate provocations and sudden withdrawal, Isla with her blatant seduction attempts, my brother with his self-righteous judgment. Even Ivy vanished when I needed her most.
My fist connects with the wall as I pass, the pain barely registering. Blood smears across the polished stone, but I keep moving, my breath coming in ragged gasps that border on sobs.
I have lost everything—my freedom, my mission, my brother, myself. For what? For nights of shameful pleasure? For the twisted satisfaction of being wanted by the monster who destroyed everything I loved? For a permanent mark on my throat that tells the world I'm his?
A tapestry depicting some Shadow Court victory tears beneath my fingernails as I grab it, pulling it from its moorings with desperate strength.
The heavy fabric collapses around me like a shroud, and for a moment, I stand in the middle of the corridor, panting, surrounded by destruction of my own making.
What am I becoming?
Two palace guards round the corner, their expressions shifting from surprise to wariness when they see me amidst the chaos. I stare back, daring them to challenge me, almost hoping they will.
"Lady Seraphina," one begins uncertainly, hand hovering near his weapon.
"Stay away from me," I warn, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.
They exchange glances, clearly weighing their duty against the risk of confronting the Shadow Lord's volatile, newly mated Omega.
One whispers urgently to the other, "Should we inform the Shadow Lord?
She's his mate—he'll sense her distress—" but his companion shakes his head, gesturing for them to back away. Wisdom prevails, and they retreat.
I continue my blind flight through the palace, each turn taking me deeper into rarely used corridors where the shadows grow thicker and servants are scarce. I am not paying attention to where I am going. I just need to move, to run, to escape the crushing weight of everything I have lost.
The sound of my ragged breathing echoes off stone walls, punctuated by the occasional sob I can no longer suppress. I am unraveling, coming apart at the seams, and there is no one left to help me put myself back together.
I sense Malakai's presence pushing against my walls, concerned and searching, but I keep him locked out, too raw and wounded to accept comfort from the source of so much pain.
I round a corner at full speed, too distracted to maintain my usual vigilance. Strong arms grab me from behind before I can react, one hand clamping over my mouth to stifle my startled cry.
Training kicks in instantly. I drive my elbow back, aiming for my attacker's solar plexus, but they anticipate the move, twisting to avoid the worst of the impact. I prepare to stomp on their instep next, but before I can, a cloth presses against my face, its sickly sweet scent filling my lungs.
Drugged. The realization hits me as my limbs grow heavy, my reactions slowing despite my desperate struggle to break free. I try to summon my light magic, to burn whoever is holding me, but the drug works faster than my concentration.
My last conscious thought is of Malakai—that he will feel my distress through our completed bond, that he will come for me, that the mating mark will lead him to his Omega.
Then, darkness.