"By sending them to the northern border?" She shakes her head. "Subtle. I saw them receive your orders and leave the garden just before you arrived here."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Right after they made me laugh."
Caught, I switch tactics. "The northern border is a significant security concern. I sent my best men to handle it."
"Of course," she agrees, her tone making it clear she doesn't believe me. "Nothing to do with the fact that they showed me basic courtesy."
"I've shown you plenty of courtesy. I haven't killed you once."
"A true romantic." She turns back to the fountain, her voice softening unexpectedly. "What is it, exactly? This shadow essence?"
The change of subject catches me off guard. I find myself responding automatically. "It's pure shadow magic in liquid form. Harvested from the deepest part of the Shadow Realm, where light has never penetrated. One drop can extinguish a standard Light Court illumination spell."
She nods, genuinely interested. "And the fountain contains it safely because..."
"Because the basin is lined with obsidian carved with containment runes. The same principle as a bonding altar, but inverted. It keeps the essence from seeping into the ground or evaporating."
"Fascinating," she murmurs, and she seems to mean it.
I find myself watching her profile—the delicate curve of her cheek, the way her eyelashes cast tiny shadows on her skin. The sunlight catches in her dark hair, revealing threads of deep auburn I haven't noticed before.
"Why the sudden interest in shadow magic?" I ask.
She shrugs, a graceful movement that draws my eye to the line of her shoulder. "Know the enemy, isn't that what they say?"
"Is that what I am to you? Just an enemy?"
"What else would you be?" she asks, finally turning to face me fully.
Her gaze is direct, challenging. The fated mate bond between us pulses with something I can't quite identify. I think of how she responded in the hallway, the way her eyes darkened when she realized we weren't alone, how her body tightened around mine. I reach for her through the bond, trying to sense her true feelings, but encounter that same frustrating barrier that's been there since our encounter in the alcove.
"I am your husband," I remind her, stepping closer. This time she holds her ground, though I can hear her heartbeat quicken. "Your lord. Your Alpha."
"My captor," she counters. "My nightmare."
"Your destiny. Whether you accept it or not, Omega, we are bound. Forever. Fated mates."
I reach out, unable to resist. My fingers trace the curve of her cheek, light enough that she could pull away if she wanted. She doesn't. Instead, she stands perfectly still, her golden eyes never leaving mine.
"I will never accept it," she says quietly. "I will fight you until my last breath."
"I'm counting on it," I admit, surprising both of us with my honesty. "It would be terribly boring otherwise."
Something shifts in the air between us—not quite tension easing, but changing form. For a brief moment, we're simply two people locked in a strange dance neither fully understands.
The moment shatters as a strange sensation prickles at the edge of my consciousness—a presence where none should be. I turn sharply, scanning the courtyard, every sense suddenly alert.
"What is it?" Seraphina asks, noticing my sudden tension.
I extend my awareness outward, shadows probing the surrounding area. There—near the eastern archway. A disturbance in the air, like heat rising from stone. A scent that doesn't belong—jasmine and something older, wilder, distinctly fae. I move toward it, shadows gathering densely around me.
"Stay back," I order Seraphina .
The sensation vanishes as quickly as it appeared, leaving only a faint trace of magic unlike anything I've encountered before. Not Light Court, not Shadow Court—something else entirely. Fae magic, ancient and powerful.
I turn back to Seraphina , suspicion blooming. "What was that?"
