"I—" I falter, unsure how to respond to this apparent olive branch. "It was...normal, I suppose. Until it wasn't."
"Normal by whose standards? Light Court nobles hardly live ordinary lives."
"We had gardens," I hear myself saying, memories surfacing unbidden. "My mother would take me there in the mornings. We'd name the birds that came to feed, making up elaborate stories about their secret lives when they flew away."
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "A fanciful pastime."
"She believed imagination was as important as combat training. She taught me to see possibilities where others saw only obstacles. She never treated me like a typical Omega—never told me I was too fragile or weak."
"She sounds unlike most Light Court nobles I've encountered."
I stop at my chamber doors, suddenly weary. "She was...special. She had a way of finding light in the darkest places."
"And when did this idyllic childhood end?" Malakai asks, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
The tenderness of the moment shatters as her death rushes back—her broken body, the distinctive shadow burns on her skin. Burns from magic like his.
"When Shadow Court soldiers murdered her," I say, ice crystallizing around each word. "When Alphas like you decided her light needed to be extinguished."
His expression darkens. "Be careful, Seraphina ."
"You were there," I cut him off, rage building within me. "My father told me everything. You were part of the shadow squad that crossed our borders that night."
Something flashes in his eyes—surprise, confusion? "I've never crossed Light Court borders on raids. Your father is either lying or mistaken about my involvement." His voice is dangerously soft. "Have you considered that the man who raised you to be a weapon might not be telling you the whole truth?"
The accusation strikes hard, momentarily stealing my breath.
"Rest well, Omega," he adds, his tone deceptively light. "Hatred is exhausting when built on shaky foundations."
Without another word, he turns and leaves. I enter our room and stay close to the door, listening.
As soon as his footsteps fade, Ivy materializes fully in the center of the room, her hair cycling through shades of silver and blue.
"Well, that was dramatic," she announces, crossing her arms. "Though I must say, that whole wistful childhood memory exchange was unexpectedly tender. Is the mighty assassin developing feelings for her monstrous Alpha?"
"The only feeling I'm developing is the urge to strangle a certain interfering fairy," I hiss, advancing on her. "What were you thinking, showing yourself like that? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"
Ivy flutters her eyelashes innocently. "Me? Dangerous? I'm just a helpful friend checking on your well-being after you've been avoiding me."
"Avoiding you? I've been under constant surveillance! Malakai hasn't left my side!"
"Details, details." She waves a dismissive hand. "I needed to talk to you. Besides, you should be thanking me for my last intervention."
Heat rises to my cheeks at the memory. "Thanking you? You drugged me with faerie dust that made me…"
"Made you finally release all that delicious tension?" she interrupts, grinning wickedly. "Honestly,Sera, you were wound tighter than a corseted virgin on her wedding night. You needed a good?—"
"Don't say it," I warn.
"—fucking," she finishes smugly. "And proper knotting. From what I heard—and half the court heard and smelled—it was spectacular."
I lunge for her, but she darts just out of reach, laughing. "Oh, come on! You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it. The way you were screaming his name, begging for his knot?—"
"That wasn't me! That was your dust!"
She snorts. "My dust doesn't create desires that aren't already there, sweet one. It just...lowers inhibitions. Removes barriers. Lets the true self emerge." She waggles her eyebrows. "And your true self apparently enjoys public displays of submission to your Alpha."
"I'm going to kill you," I growl, grabbing for her again. "Slowly. Painfully."
