"Her duties," I say, my voice dangerously soft, "are whatever I decide they are."
An uncomfortable silence falls over the chamber. I rise from my throne, moving to the window that overlooks the central courtyard. Seraphina is there now, examining the shadow fountain with apparent fascination.
"My mate is not your concern. She is mine to manage, mine to control." I turn back to face them. "The Council would do well to remember their place. I didn't conquer the Shadow Throne by seeking permission."
The threat in my words is unmistakable.
"Of course, my lord," Theron says after a moment. "We merely wished to offer counsel, as is our duty."
"Your duty is to execute my will, not question it. Now, is there anything else of actual importance to discuss?"
No one speaks. I take that as my cue to leave, striding from the chamber with my shadows roiling around me. The nerve of them, to question my handling of Seraphina.
I find myself heading toward the central courtyard before I've made a conscious decision to seek her out. Servants and guards scramble out of my path, pressing themselves against walls as I pass.
I pause at the courtyard entrance, observing Seraphina as she circles the shadow fountain—a massive construction of black marble where perpetual twilight is captured in flowing water. She reaches out, her fingers hovering just above the liquid darkness.
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," I call, stepping into the sunlight. "Unless you want your fingers permanently stained with shadow essence."
She startles slightly but recovers quickly, lowering her hand without looking at me. "And here I thought you'd prefer me marked by shadow."
I approach slowly, savoring the way she tenses with each step. "Oh, I do, Omega. But I prefer to be the one doing the marking."
Now she does look at me, golden eyes flashing with defiance. "Was there something you wanted, Malakai? Or is intimidating me your latest hobby?"
I smile. "Can't an Alpha simply enjoy his Omega's company?"
"Is that what we're doing? Enjoying each other's company?" She gestures around the empty courtyard. "Strange, I don't see any torture devices or restraints. Are you feeling unwell?"
Despite myself, I laugh. This sharp tongue of hers is becoming one of my favorite things about her—the way she refuses to cower, even knowing what I'm capable of. It's refreshing after centuries of sycophants and submissive Omegas who bore me within minutes.
"Maybe I simply missed you," I suggest, moving closer.
She takes a step back, maintaining the distance between us. "You saw me this morning. When you threatened to feed my heart to the shadow hounds if I spoke during breakfast."
"Yes, well, that was hours ago. I've grown as a person since then." I lean against the fountain's edge. "I saw you in the garden earlier. With Stefan, Viktor, and Marcus."
Something flickers in her eyes—wariness, perhaps. "Your Alphas were explaining the properties of night-blooming flora."
"Is that what made you laugh? Botanical facts?" I keep my tone casual, but my shadows betray me, darkening around my feet.
She studies me for a moment, head tilted slightly. "Actually, they were sharing stories about you."
That catches me off guard. "About me?"
"Apparently, the great and terrible Shadow Lord once slipped on ice of his own creation and landed flat on his ass in front of the entire Meridian delegation." A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Viktor's impression of your face was quite detailed."
I'm going to kill all three of them. Slowly. Creatively.
"I didn't slip," I say, drawing myself up indignantly. "I was demonstrating a new fighting technique that involved rapid ground engagement."
She arches an eyebrow. "Is that what we're calling it? Because, according to Viktor, you cursed so colorfully that the Meridian ambassador's translator refused to translate it directly."
"Viktor exaggerates. And Stefan couldn't accurately imitate a shadow puppet, let alone me."
"I don't know," she says, and to my astonishment, there's a hint of genuine amusement in her voice. "His impression included that thing you do with your eyebrow when you're annoyed. Like right now."
I immediately school my expression, then feel stupid for doing so. "I'm not annoyed. I'm contemplating how to most effectively punish insubordination."
