"Hmm, fashion by intimidation. Not their worst crime, but still on the list." Her light dims slightly as she circles me. "All jokes aside, you look like absolute hell, Sera."
"Thank you. Just what every girl wants to hear."
"You know what I mean." She moves closer, her light pulsing with concern as she reaches out to brush my cheek. "I felt the disturbance in the boundary magic yesterday, a massive surge of shadow and light intertwining. I tried to come immediately, but the palace wards were too strong. I had to wait for them to settle before I could slip through."
The gentle touch breaks something in me. My carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. "Asher is dead," I tell her. "Malakai killed him. Tore him apart with shadow magic. And now I'm?—"
"Bonded to the bastard," Ivy finishes, her face grim. "I can see it on you, shadow and light intertwined, pulsing with new magic." She flies around me, examining the invisible threads of the bond with eyes that see beyond the physical. "Sweet merciful moonlight, Sera. What did they do to you?"
"He forced the bond," I admit, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "Blood magic, shadow magic, the fated mate bond—all of it. I didn't even know what was happening until it was done. My father sent me here like a lamb to slaughter, and Malakai..." I can't finish the sentence.
Ivy's light flares angry red. "Typical Light Court nonsense. All that talk of honor and wisdom, and they send their brightest flame into shadow without so much as a warning." She sits beside me on the bed. "But I'm here now. And I'm going to help you figure this out, even if I have to turn the Shadow Boy into a particularly ugly toad to do it."
The absurd image—Malakai with bulging eyes and warty skin—startles a laugh from me, though it sounds hollow. "Can you actually do that?"
"Probably not," she admits with a dismissive wave. "But I'd give it my best shot. The amount of magic it would take would probably turn my hair permanently green, but for you? Worth it."
I shake my head, grateful for her presence despite the circumstances. "How did you even get in here? The Shadow Court has wards against fae magic."
Ivy scoffs. "Please. Those wards were set by amateurs who think all fae are the same. It's like trying to catch a shark with a butterfly net." She flicks her wrist, and a small shower of silver sparks erupts from her fingers. "Besides, I'm not just any fae. I'm me. And I may have...anticipated this situation."
"What do you mean?" I ask, sensing there's more to her sudden appearance.
She looks almost embarrassed, which is rare for Ivy. "I've been monitoring the shadow court for months, Sera. Ever since your father started making those political moves, I had a feeling something like this might happen." She reaches into a pouch at her side and produces a tiny vial that glows with silvery-blue light. "Essence of boundroot, mixed with tears of the twilight moth. It will temporarily block the emotional connection of the bond, not completely, but enough to give you privacy in your own mind."
I eye the vial with a mixture of hope and suspicion. "You had this ready?"
"I may be flighty, but I'm not stupid," she says with unusual seriousness. "Fated mate bonds are ancient magic, and they're dangerous. I've been studying them ever since I sensed the political winds shifting. This potion is the only thing I know that can help—at least temporarily."
"What aren't you telling me, Ivy?" I ask, recognizing the look in her eyes.
She sighs dramatically. "The potion has...side effects. Because nothing worth having comes without a price tag, obviously." She examines her nails. "The magic works by creating a barrier around your emotional center, but magical barriers are never perfect. To block the flow of your feelings to him, it has to redirect that energy somewhere—which means you'll feel his emotions more strongly. Think of it like plugging a drain—the water has to go somewhere."
"I don't care," I say immediately. "Anything is better than him feeling my hatred, my plans."
"There's more," she continues, unusually somber. "Extended use can blur the boundaries between your minds. The potion doesn't just block—it creates a kind of magical feedback loop. After two cycles, you might struggle to distinguish his thoughts from your own. Some who've used it began to adopt the very traits they despised in their bonded. Imagine that—you becoming a mini-Malakai. Delightful prospect."
The warning sends a chill through me, but I push it aside. "Can you make more?"
She nods. "Of course I can…but, Sera—" she approaches, her expression uncharacteristically serious, "—you can only take it twice. After that, the effects become unpredictable. Dangerous. And I don't mean 'oops my hair turned blue' dangerous. I mean, 'who am I and why am I suddenly fond of shadow magic' dangerous."
"So I have thirty days to figure out another solution," I say, calculating quickly. "Or to find a way to kill him that won't kill me, too."
Ivy glances nervously at my chamber door. "Speaking of which, we should probably wrap this up before Shadow Boy comes looking for his bride. The longer I stay, the more likely the palace's deeper wards will notice me."
"The potion," I say, holding out my hand.
Ivy places the tiny vial in my palm. "Drink it all. The effects will begin immediately. Try not to make that scrunched-up face you do when something tastes bad—it's unbecoming."
I uncork the vial, hesitating only briefly. "You're sure this won't harm me?"
"It won't harm your body," Ivy says, dropping her sarcastic tone. "But his presence in your mind...it can be overwhelming. Be careful, Sera. Don't lose yourself while trying to hide from him." Then, unable to maintain seriousness for long, she adds, "I'd hate to have to train a new human friend. The learning curve is exhausting."
Without further hesitation, I tip the vial to my lips and swallow its contents.
The effect is immediate and shocking. Fire spreads from my throat to my chest, then outward along my limbs. For a terrifying moment, I can't breathe, can't think, can't feel anything but the burning.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the sensation vanishes, and with it, the openness of the bond. My grief for Asher, my hatred for Malakai, my fear and determination, all remain vivid within me, but I can feel a barrier forming, shielding these emotions from flowing through the bond to him. Simultaneously, I become acutely aware of a foreign presence in my mind—distant for now, but unmistakably Malakai's consciousness, hovering at the edges of my awareness like a storm on the horizon.
