"Let them question," I interrupt. "It keeps them entertained. And it keeps them from noticing other things."
After he leaves, I make my way back to my chambers, my mind full of my infuriating wife. The intensity of my obsession with her is becoming dangerous. I tell myself it's just the challenge she presents, the satisfaction of eventually breaking her will. But in moments of brutal honesty, I admit there's something more—a fascination that goes beyond mere conquest.
The fact that she marked me sends a thrill through my body I can't entirely suppress. No one has drawn my blood in centuries, and the novelty—from her hands especially—awakens something primal. I want to return the favor, to mark her inside and out until she belongs to me so completely that she forgets she ever had another life. To sink my teeth into her scent gland and make her mine permanently, irrevocably.
Tonight, I'll peel back another layer of her carefully constructed facade. Not just with pain, but with pleasure—the kind she hates herself for responding to, the kind that leaves her confused and furious and craving more despite herself.
After all, breaking someone's body is simple. Breaking their will, their sense of self—that's an art form.
And I've always considered myself something of an artist.
CHAPTER 11
THE DUST OF DESIRE
SERAPHINA
I stride away from the training yard with my chin high despite the throbbing pain in my wrist. Blood may be trickling down my lip, but I've drawn his blood today, something, according to the whispers that follow me, no one has done in centuries. Small victory, perhaps, but I'll take what I can get in this prison of shadows.
The cool stone corridor offers blessed relief from the eyes of the court. My damaged wrist pulses in rhythm with my racing heart, the bones grinding together when I flex my fingers. The memory of his shadows crushing it makes me clench my teeth. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeking a healer.
A sudden movement makes me tense, but before I can react, someone tugs me sideways into a shadowy alcove behind a heavy tapestry. My good hand automatically reaches for a weapon that isn't there.
"Relax, it's just me," Ivy's familiar voice whispers as her silver-blonde hair materializes in the dim light. "That was quite the show you put on out there. Watching you cut Shadow Boy was worth enduring this dreary place another day."
I glance nervously toward the corridor. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to leave yesterday."
"I did leave," she grins, her lavender eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I came back this morning when I sensed something delicious was about to happen. I've been hiding in the corners of this palace, watching the drama unfold." She circles around me, her movements fluid like water. "Besides, I couldn't leave my favorite human to face the big, bad shadow boy alone, could I?"
"This isn't a game, Ivy," I hiss, trying to massage some feeling back into my injured wrist. "If Malakai discovers you…"
"Please." She waves dismissively. "That Alpha is so obsessed with you, he wouldn't notice if I danced naked on his dinner table. Though..." Her eyes trail down the corridor with an appreciative gleam. "Annoying as he is, I can see the appeal. Those brooding looks, that dangerous edge—very eye-catching, if you like the murderous-but-pretty type."
"He killed Asher," I remind her, my voice tight.
Ivy's expression softens momentarily. "I know, sweet one. And he'll pay for that." She moves closer, lowering her voice. "But you must admit, there's a certain intensity between you. The whole court sees it. The way he looks at you like he wants to devour you whole…"
"Stop."
"The way you glare back with equal hunger…"
"I said stop."
"The air practically crackles when you're in the same room. It's like watching two predators circle each other, neither willing to show weakness first. And don't even get me started on the Alpha-Omega dynamics—the way his scent spikes when you're near."
I press my palms against my temples. "You're delusional."
"Am I?" Her smile turns knowing. "I can sense these things, Sera. My kind always can. There's a bond between you beyond the magical one, a pull you keep fighting. Your Omega nature calls to his Alpha, even when you hate him."
"The only thing I feel for him is hatred," I insist.
"Hatred, desire, sometimes they're not so different." She shrugs. "Both consume you, both keep you awake at night, both make your heart race when you see him…"
Her head suddenly jerks up, eyes widening. "He's coming."
Panic floods through me. "Then go," I urge.
Instead of vanishing, she reaches into a tiny pouch at her waist and pulls out a handful of golden dust that shimmers with otherworldly light.
