I turned my back to them—because it was the greatest insult I could offer—and walked toward the massive window overlooking Bellona.
Winds tore across the sky, lightning flickering in distant sheets.
“My orders,” I said, clasping my hands behind my back, "are simple.”
Silence clung to every corner of the room.
“Do nothing unless I command it.” I let my voice darken. “And donottouch the girl.”
Selene’s breath hitched in fury. “Why do you care what happens to her?”
I smiled at the window. “I don’t.”
Another lie.
An easy one.
One that would keep her alive.
“I simply don’t like others playing with my toys.” I stared at them both, letting the insanity I usually kept hidden show in my eyes.
Ubel bowed instantly—deeply terrified. “As you command.”
Selene’s bow came slower. Trembling but resentful.
Good.
Let her hate the girl. Let her fear me.
Both truths served me well.
The manor felt too quiet.
My manor was usually a sanctuary—constructed of cold stone, colder air, and silence that soothed me.
Tonight, it felt like the walls were listening.
I paced across the chamber, boots hitting the obsidian tile with sharp, precise rhythm, my breath steadying only when I ripped away the last remnant of Torren’s shirt and finally saw what I’d been avoiding.
My arm.
The mark burned there like a bruise drawn in molten gold—a cracked crown carved cleanly across the inside of my left forearm.
It glowed faintly.
Mocking me.
I dragged my fingers over it, nails pressing until my skin split and blood rose.
It didn’t fade.
It only pulsed.
In time with her heartbeat. The only rhythm it seemed to know.
I slammed my arm against the stone wall. The entire section cracked, dust raining down like ash.
“Damn, you,” I hissed—not at her, never at her—but at the bond that dared to think I deserved this. Something like her.
