The golden magic coursing through my veins pulses in time with my heartbeat, making everything sharper, more vivid. The texture of the stone wall against my back. The whisper of his breath against my cheek. The way my body is preparing itself for him, slick coating my thighs, my scent growing sweeter with arousal. The subtle shift of shadows around his feet, reaching toward me like hungry fingers.
"You first," I counter, some reckless part of me pushing back. "The merciless monster act—is that real, or just another mask you hide behind?"
His eyes narrow dangerously. "You think this is an act?"
"I think someone truly monstrous wouldn't need to remind everyone how dangerous they are at every opportunity." The words come easier now, the dust having stripped away my filters. "Real monsters don't announce themselves. They blend in. They smile while they destroy you from the inside out."
For a heartbeat, genuine astonishment crosses his face before his expression hardens again. "Careful, Seraphina. You're wandering into very dangerous territory."
"I've been in dangerous territory since the moment I set foot in your court." The fearlessness flooding through me grows stronger. "What more can you do to me that you haven't already done?"
His hand tightens around my throat, just enough to remind me of his strength, just enough to make me gasp. "I've barely begun to show you what I can do to you, what I can make you beg for. How can I make your Omega nature sing for me."
I should be terrified. Instead, I feel a perverse thrill at pushing him to the edge of his control. "Then show me. Stop talking about it and actually…"
His mouth crashes against mine, cutting off my challenge. The kiss is brutal, punishing, teeth scraping my lower lip, tongue demanding entry. I taste blood—copper and salt—though whether it's from my split lip or his, I can't tell. I should fight him. Should bite down hard enough to make him bleed more.
Instead, my treacherous body arches into his, both hands fisting in his tunic to pull him closer—my injured wrist moving without pain thanks to Ivy's healing magic. The dust in my system turns every point of contact into liquid lightning. This is wrong. This is madness.
This is absolutely liberating.
Something fundamental shifts inside me—a dam breaking, every defense I've built around my heart shattering at once. For the first time since our wedding night, I stop fighting the response he draws from me. Stop pretending I don't feel this dark, magnetic pull between us. The fated mate bond flares completely open as my barriers dissolve, amplifying every sensation until I can't tell where his desire ends and mine begins.
He pulls back just enough to stare at me, shock and triumph warring in his expression as he takes in my flushed cheeks, my parted lips, the way I'm panting. His nostrils flare as he breathes in my scent—pure Omega arousal.
"There you are," he murmurs, voice rougher than before. "Finally. My beautiful, deadly queen, showing me what she really wants."
CHAPTER 12
ALPHA’S OBSESSION
SERAPHINA
His shadows wrap around my wrists, pinning them above my head against the wall with surprising gentleness. The pressure feels perfect against my now-healed wrist, transformed into pleasure by the lingering magic in my system.
"What have you done to me?" I whisper, the words half-accusation, half-plea.
"Nothing you didn't secretly want," he replies, mistaking the source of my sudden surrender. His mouth moves to my neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin near my scent gland until I whimper—a purely Omega sound of submission that would normally horrify me. "I can feel it through the bond, what you try so hard to hide from yourself. How much you want to let go, to stop fighting, to let me take control. To let your Alpha claim you properly."
With my barriers down, he can feel everything—every spike of arousal, every flutter of need, every moment where fear transforms into anticipation. The connection flows both ways now, and I'm drowning in his desire, his possessive Alpha hunger, his desperate need to claim me completely.
Part of me knows I should be horrified, should be fighting with everything I have. But that part grows quieter with each passing second, drowned out by the roaring in my blood, the desperate need for more of his touch.
"Someone will see," I manage, even as my head falls back against the wall, baring my throat in pure Omega submission. Through the partial opening of our alcove, I can see the main corridor where courtiers occasionally pass.
His laugh vibrates against my skin, dark and possessive. "Let them." His hands find the ties of my training clothes, working them open with deliberate care. "Let the entire court see who you belong to, watch their Shadow Lady come undone."
I should be outraged at his possessiveness. Instead, the thought of being watched—of courtiers glimpsing their proud new Shadow Lady writhing at her husband's hands—sends a forbidden thrill straight to my core.
"You're mine," he growls, sliding my tunic off my shoulders slowly, leaving me in just my thin undershirt. Cool air hits my heated skin, making me shiver. "Mine to break, mine to pleasure, mine to worship, mine to destroy if I choose. My Omega."
"And you're mine to kill," I counter, but the threat lacks conviction when I'm arching into his touch, when my body is producing slick for him.
He laughs darkly. "We'll see about that." His hand finds my breast through the thin fabric, fingers circling my nipple until it hardens. "But first, let's see if we can make you scream my name loud enough for the entire palace to hear."
The sound of approaching footsteps should make me panic. Instead, it only intensifies the fire building inside me. I meet Malakai's gaze and see my own reckless desire reflected back at me.
"Anyone could come by," I whisper, not sure if I'm protesting or encouraging.
