I come face to face with Cade, who appears to have been standing guard, trying to disperse the lingering courtiers.
He stands frozen, wearing a look of complete devastation that nearly makes my knees buckle. It's not about this man I barely know—it's the expression he wears, the way his eyes mirror a soul-crushing pain that I've only seen once before. He reminds me so much of Asher in this moment that my heart seizes in my chest.
"Asher?" I whisper in confusion, the name escaping before I can stop it.
His eyes widen, the color draining from his face. Without a word, he stumbles backward, then turns and flees down the corridor.
I stare after him, my mind reeling with questions I'm too afraid to ask. What frightens me most isn't what just happened with Malakai, or even that others witnessed it. What frightens me is the ghost I just saw in Cade's eyes, and how desperately I want to chase after it, even knowing it can't possibly be real.
CHAPTER 13
SHADOWS OF JEALOUSY
MALAKAI
I drum my fingers against the windowsill, watching Seraphina from my private balcony. She moves through the eastern garden with a grace that makes my shadows curl with hunger. Even in captivity, she maintains that infuriating Light Court posture—spine straight, chin lifted—as if she's a visiting queen rather than my possession.
A week has passed since I took her against the corridor wall, her moans echoing through the hallway as court members pretended not to watch. The way she came apart when she realized we had an audience—that flush spreading across her golden skin, the scent of her arousal overwhelming the corridor—is burned into my mind. She's adapting to my court with unsettling ease. The servants fear her. The guards respect her. And I can't stop watching her.
"If you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through her," Emmett's voice cuts through my thoughts.
I don't turn. "One can dream."
Emmett moves to stand beside me, his face impassive. "The Council is waiting, my lord. The border dispute requires your attention."
"The border has been disputed for centuries. It can wait another hour."
"And what exactly are you doing that's so important?" Emmett asks, his tone hovering dangerously close to insubordination. He's the only one who can speak to me this way and keep his tongue. Most days, I appreciate his frankness. Today is not most days.
"I'm observing my wife. Making sure she's not planning something troublesome."
"She's not plotting an escape," Emmett says dryly. "She's rearranging your grandmother's prized poisonous flower collection."
I squint. He's right—she's carefully transplanting the deadly nightshade, her slender fingers working with surprising expertise. "How domestic of her. Perhaps next she'll bake poisoned cookies for the entire court."
"You could always ask her what she's doing," Emmett suggests. "It's a novel concept called 'conversation.' I hear bonded pairs occasionally engage in it."
I shoot him a withering glare. "I preferred you when you cowered and called me 'Your Terrible Magnificence.'"
"You instructed me to never call you that again after the incident with the Meridian ambassador."
"Yes, well, I've changed my mind. Bring it back into your vocabulary immediately."
Emmett sighs, a sound like wind through ancient cypress trees. "The Council, my lord."
I make a dismissive gesture. "Tell them I'm plotting world domination. Or that I have indigestion. I don't care which."
Below, Seraphina has been joined by three of my younger Alphas—Marcus, Stefan, and Viktor. My eyes narrow as Marcus gestures animatedly, clearly telling some story that has captured her attention.
"What are they doing with her?" I ask, shadows darkening around me.
Emmett glances down. "It appears they're talking to her."
"I can see that. Why?"
"Perhaps because she's the Shadow Lady now, and it's customary to acknowledge one's mistress?" Emmett suggests, each word carefully measured. "Or perhaps because, unlike some people, they understand the value of diplomatic relations."
I ignore the jab, watching as Viktor says something that makes Seraphina's lips curve upward. Not quite a smile, but close enough to send an unexpected jolt through my chest.
