"You love him," I repeat, my voice dangerously soft. "How unfortunate for both of you."
I clench my fist suddenly, and the shadows inside Asher solidify. The power drains me more than I'd admit—manipulating shadows within a living body requires immense concentration and energy—but the display is worth the cost.
His body jerks, his back arching impossibly as darkness bursts from within him—erupting from his eyes, his mouth, tearing through his skin in jagged patterns. Blood and shadow mingle in a grotesque display as his body is literally torn apart from the inside.
The sound Seraphina makes isn't human. It's the wail of a mate watching her chosen die, the keen of loss and horror and devastation.
What remains of Asher falls to the forest floor in a ruined heap. My shadows retreat, their hunger temporarily sated, coiling around me once more. The clearing reeks of death and blood and my triumphant scent.
The execution leaves me drained, cold sweat on my brow despite my triumphant words. That kind of internal manipulation requires immense power—power I won't be able to replenish for days. Worth it, though. My shadows recoil, exhausted. I steady myself, refusing to show weakness before her.
I turn to Seraphina, whose screams have faded to shocked, hitching breaths. Tears stream down her face, her eyes fixed on the remains of her lover.
"That," I say calmly, "is what happens when someone touches what belongs to me."
I approach her slowly, my shadows still binding her in place. When I reach her, I grasp her chin, forcing her to look at me instead of Asher's remains.
My gaze catches on the pendant—his gift to her. "A gift from your now-dead prince?" I sneer, before ripping it from her neck. A strangled cry leaves her lips. The pendant sails to the ground, where I crush it under my boot, grinding the silver into the blood-soaked earth.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" I ask softly. "Did you think you could betray me on our wedding day and there would be no consequences?"
With deliberate slowness, I lean forward and lick a spatter of Asher's blood from her cheek, savoring both the metallic taste and her shudder of revulsion.
"I'll have his bones cleaned and polished," I murmur against her skin, letting my lips brush against her scent gland. "They'll make an excellent bed frame for our wedding chamber."
I release her chin and step back, surveying her disheveled state—tunic still unfastened, hair wild from her struggle, traces of her dead lover still evident on her skin.
"Fix your clothing," I command. "I won't parade you through the Shadow Court looking like you've just been rutting in the forest."
She doesn't move, still frozen in shock and grief.
With a sigh, I gesture, and my shadows adjust her tunic, straightening her clothing and smoothing her hair with an unsettling gentleness that mimics care. They're careful around her throat, around the unmarked scent glands that will soon bear my claiming bite.
"Now, shall we return to the palace? We have a wedding to attend." I lean in, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "And when your suppressants finally fail in three days—because they will, the stress of today has pushed them to their limit—you'll be begging me to make you forget that prince ever existed."
"You're a monster," she whispers, her voice raw.
I press a hand to my chest and beam at her. "Why, thank you for noticing! I've been working on my monster reputation for centuries. The executions, the torture chambers, the dramatic shadow displays—it's exhausting, really. All that effort, and finally someone appreciates it."
Her horrified expression only widens my smile as my shadows wrap around us both, ready to transport us back to the palace.
"And now you're going to be a monster's bride. We can coordinate our villainous outfits. I'm thinking matching blood-spatter patterns? Very fashionable this season."
As the darkness engulfs us, taking us away from the clearing and the bloody remains of her lover, I allow myself a moment of pure, vicious triumph. She thought she could escape me. She thought she could give to another man what was promised to me.
She was wrong.
Mine. She is mine.
And I destroy what I cannot possess.
Though in this case, I'll possess her completely. The bond that will tie us together for the rest of our immortal lives—mine.
She wanted freedom? She wanted her Light Court prince?
She should have thought of that before she agreed to be mine.
Killing a Light Court prince will have consequences, of course. The political ramifications will be significant. But let them come. I have a wedding to attend and a mate to claim.
