“You can’t keep me here.”
“The hell I can’t.” His hands closed around my waist, hauling me gently back into his lap. “Sit. Let Daddy show you how much I appreciates the effort.”
I settled, his chain cool against my fingers when I reached up instinctively. He exhaled like he’d been waiting for that contact all night.
“There. Now it feels right.”
“I thought the candlelight was supposed to do that.”
“The candles are for you. My nerves were for you. The Veil lessons were for you.”
“And this?” I toyed with his chain.
“This is for me. My girl. My perfect little sub. In my lap where she belongs.”
He kissed my shoulder.
“I didn’t scare you off with my ridiculous attempt at romance , did I?”
“You did very well.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm. Next time maybe less table, more lap.”
“Noted.” His hands tightened, anchoring me there. That’s when he finally kissed me like I had been waiting for.
25
Madeline
Only Sovereign made the dynasties feel like gods.
There was nothing like it in the world.
The air itself shimmered when I stepped into the Hall, the entire space glowing with crest-light—all the dynasties ancient sigils suspended in hologram form above the marble floors, circling each other like constellations.
Adams gold.
Crow obsidian.
Thorne sapphire.
Dupont silver.
And more, every original bloodlines dynasty was represented.
The ones whose ancestors stood in this hall centuries ago and let the founding handlers ink their crests into the sovereign, binding them to law and lineage forever.
Tonight celebrated that moment.
And every dynasty heir within five continents was required—by sovereign decree—to attend.
Especially the Crows.
Veil drones slipped in graceful arcs above us, their lenses rotating and adjusting for global broadcast. Every movement wemade streamed live across major networks—our gowns, crests, our alliances. Even the way we blinked was politics.
Sovereign wasn’t an event. It was a performance. A ceremony of power. And dynasty heirs were the spectacle. The mortal royalty the world pretended weren’t human at all.
