Nyx.
I stumble slightly, catch myself against the wall. The others notice—I see Stellan's head turn, Rhett's attention sharpen—but I wave them off.
"Council business," I manage. "I'll be back."
Before anyone can respond, the magic takes me.
I don't appear in the formal Council chamber.
Fuck.
This is Nyx's private domain—all velvet shadows and glowing orbs of light, reflective black floors that mirror everything twice. Opulent in a way that makes my skin crawl. She lounges on a throne that looks more like a bed, draped in silk that shifts color with her mood.
She's watching me with those predator eyes as she stands, making her way toward me, and I know immediately that this isn't going to be a simple interrogation.
"Thane," she purrs, rising with liquid grace. "You look... rattled."
"I look exactly as I always do."
She circles me, slow and deliberate. "Do you? Because the footage I've been seeing suggests otherwise."
My blood goes cold. "Footage?"
"Oh yes. It's everywhere now. EtherTube, magical news feeds, private Council surveillance." Her smile is all teeth. "The moment she touched you. The way you didn't flinch. The way you looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered."
She stops directly in front of me, close enough that I can smell the magic rolling off her skin. Dangerous. Intoxicating.
"She touched you first," Nyx continues, voice dropping to something almost intimate. "And you didn't flinch. Didn't pull away. Didn't maintain the distance we all know you're so good at."
"It was strategic."
"Was it?" She reaches out, trails one finger along my jaw. "Because it looked like surrender to me."
I don't move. Don't react. "Everything I do serves the Council's interests."
"Of course it does." But her tone suggests she doesn't believe me for a second. "Tell me, Thane—when you bled for her, when she chose to use the Ether on you instead of letting you suffer, what did you feel?"
"Nothing."
"Liar." The word is soft, almost affectionate. "You felt chosen. You felt wanted. You felt like maybe, for the first time in centuries, someone saw you as more than just a useful monster."
Her hand moves to my chest, palm flat over where my heart should be racing. I keep it steady through will alone.
"Are you hers now, Thane?" she asks. "Or are you still mine to play with?"
The question hangs between us, loaded with implications I'm not ready to face. Because the answer should be simple. Should be automatic.
But it's not.
"I serve the Council," I say instead. "I serve the mission. Let them see her. Let them fear her. I'll keep her public. Manageable. The more visible she is, the easier it'll be to control her."
Nyx studies my face for a long moment, and I can see her weighing my words against what she knows. What she's observed.
Finally, she steps back. "Very well. But Thane?" Her smile turns sharp. "Try not to look so eager the next time you bleed for her. It's becoming a bit obvious."
Before I can respond, the magic yanks me sideways again.
The formal Council chamber materializes around me, and I'm not surprised to find the others already there. Valdris paces near her throne, flames licking at her heels. Marcus sits rigid in his chair, expression cold as winter. Eris leans forward, silver eyes blank with prophecy.
