She looked into his eyes, worried and mouth open to question it, but he beat her to it. His hands cupped her cheeks, eyes wide with shock.
“Stars,” he breathed, “you’re my fucking mate.”
Sin
Sin tensed at the word.
Mate.
That was a word used in stories, a fantasy—not something that could be real. Her throat tightened, her vision blurring briefly as disbelief gripped her, making it hard to breathe.
Was he serious?
He laughed, the sound full of joy as he looked down at her, his face softening. “What is your name?”
Her face flushed as the absurdity of the moment hit her—they had just shared their bodies, and yet, they didn’t even know each other’s names. It was ridiculous.
“Sin,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice trembling with fear and confusion.
Max smiled at her, the warmth in it almost overwhelming, though a dangerous edge was unmistakable in his eyes. “Sin,” he parroted, his gaze sweeping over her. “Wickedly lovely, just like you.”
Her cheeks burned hotter, his gaze making her feel exposed and vulnerable. “And yours?” she managed to ask, though her throat was dry.
An arrogant smirk curled across his lips. “You’re joking, right?”
She swallowed hard, nerves twisting her gut as she took in the luxury of the room. How he was dressed far better than everyone in the ballroom.
“I am Prince Maximus,” he said, and she stared, her heart tightening.
“Max,” she breathed, the name feeling dangerous and intimate, like a forbidden word. It didn’t feel real. How could she—a half-witch servant—be tethered to a prince?
He nodded, his eyes gleaming with something between hunger and amusement. “Only those close to me call me that.”
Sin’s heart pounded as the implications of his words sank in. He was serious. He truly believed she was his mate.
“I’m a bastard,” she found herself whispering, surprising herself with her honesty. “My stepmother named me to remind my father of his mistakes.”
Max’s smile softened as he gently tilted her chin up, his thumb brushing her jaw. “Then let me be the one to make that name precious,” he said, his voice low, his eyes locking with hers. “Not a reminder of the past, but a future you deserve.”
The weight of his words twisted something deep inside her, something she was afraid to confront.
“How insanely lucky I am,” Max said, his tone shifting, his joy at their supposed connection evident. “To be mated to someone as beautiful as you are.”
Her breath caught, the air turning thick as his words settled between them. The warmth flooding her body was equal parts thrill and terror. “Wait… You’re not joking?”
Max’s smile faltered, eyes narrowing on Sin. “You can’t feel it?” he asked, his voice low. “I felt you the moment you walked into the ballroom.”
The intensity of his gaze unnerved her, but deep down, she had felt it too—the inexplicable pull. Yet, it was all too much.Her glamour was temporary. She wasn’t what she seemed, and sooner or later, he would see it.
By the time the sun rose, the magic would fade. He would see her as she truly was—scarred, ugly, a useless half-witch without any power. The thought burned her more than the fire in his eyes. Would he still look at her the same way? Would he still want her, or would he toss her aside?
Max shifted, turning them over, still inside her. “And you’re not leaving this room tonight. Understand?” His voice held a possessiveness, a growl that made her pulse race.
Though he looked at her with such tenderness, the panic forced its way inside her heart. A century, she had been locked in a cage, she and her magic. Would there ever be a world she lived in where she was free?
His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her lips. “You have nothing to fear from me,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You are my mate, and I will treasure you always.” His lips pressed softly to her cheek, trailing down her jaw as her eyes fluttered shut, her breath hitching at the gentle touch. The intimacy of the moment tightened the space between them, each brush of his lips lingering, as though time had slowed to capture it all.
His hands roamed her body, and she felt herself responding, her fear drowning beneath the weight of his touch. They moved together again and again in the fire-lit room, until her body was trembling, and her mind blank with need. Yet beneath the pleasure, there was a sense of desperation—an awareness that the dream would soon end.
