Despite the shadows around her, Ivy's hair begins to shift back toward its vibrant colors, her protective instinct for me overriding even her pain.
"Ivy, enough," I warn, concerned about how much she might reveal.
Malakai's grip on me tightens. "You block our bond deliberately," he says, his voice low and dangerous, vibrating through his chest into mine. "With fairy magic. You deny me access to my own mate's thoughts, her feelings. You keep yourself unmarked when fate itself demands I claim you."
I lift my chin defiantly, even as another wave of heat pulses through me. "Yes. I value my privacy."
"The light customs," Ivy adds carefully, "are quite different from shadow practices. Their magic requires mental boundaries. And incomplete bonds—especially fated ones—they're dangerous for Omegas. The heats become unbearable. Her body needs?—"
"I sense you're hiding something else," Malakai interrupts, his gaze traveling between us with sharp intelligence. "Something important. Something more than just privacy concerns."
I maintain a carefully neutral expression. "I hide many things. That's the purpose of the potion."
Ivy meets my eyes briefly, a silent understanding passing between us.
The bond between us pulses with sudden clarity as the potion's effect continues to fade. A flood of emotions—not just his but mine as well—flows freely between us. My frustration. My anxiety. My unwilling physical response to his proximity. And beneath it all, a terrifying longing that I can't suppress, can't hide from him anymore.
Malakai's lips curve into a slow, dangerous smile as he feels it all. "So my secretive Omega blocks our bond with fairy potions." He laughs suddenly, the sound both genuinely amused and slightly unsettling. "And here I thought married life would be mundane."
His attention returns to Ivy, who meets his gaze with unexpected boldness.
"You know," she says with a theatrical sigh, eyeing his bare chest with forced appreciation, "under different circumstances, I might enjoy being wrapped up in your shadows. They're surprisingly...intimate." She pauses, then adds with a strained smile, "Though the Alpha pheromones and the burning sensation do dampen the appeal somewhat. Is this how you seduce all your enemies, or am I getting special treatment?"
Through the bond, I feel his reluctant admiration for her courage.
"No more potions," he declares, addressing Ivy without releasing me. His hand slides from my throat to cup the back of my neck possessively, fingers tangling in my hair. "No more barriers. I want full access to what's mine. And I want my mate marked and claimed as she should be."
"She's not a possession," Ivy protests, her voice firm despite the slight tremor. "And the bond isn't meant to be used as a tool for control. The mating bite must be given freely or it means nothing."
"Isn't it?" Malakai challenges. "The fated mate bond exists precisely so bonded pairs can't plot against each other. Can't deceive. Can't betray. The bite completes it, makes the connection permanent and unbreakable." His fingers tighten in my hair. "It exists to enforce loyalty through transparency."
"It exists for intimacy," Ivy whispers, a flicker of her normal courage returning. There's something in her voice—old pain, perhaps. Ancient memory. "For understanding. For connection deeper than physical. For love that transcends designation and duty. You're twisting its purpose if you use it as a chain."
I feel Malakai's hesitation through the bond, a flash of uncertainty quickly masked by renewed determination. "No more potions," he repeats. "Or your fairy friend's freedom in my court is revoked."
Panic rises in me at the thought of Malakai having unlimited access to my thoughts, my memories, my mission to kill him. "Please," I whisper, hating the pleading note in my voice. "I need some privacy. Some autonomy."
Something flickers across his face—not quite compassion, but perhaps understanding.
"What if," Ivy suggests carefully, "there was a compromise? A temporary barrier that only activates during certain hours? Privacy at night, connection during the day? And the mating bite... left until both parties are truly willing?"
Malakai's eyes narrow in consideration. "Explain."
"A modified potion," Ivy elaborates. "Less powerful than the full blocking formula. It would allow basic emotional awareness but prevent deep mental access during sleep hours. Like...like hearing music through a wall—you know it's playing, but can't make out the specific melody. And it would help stabilize her Omega biology, prevent the destabilization caused by the incomplete bond."
Hope flickers in my chest as I wait for his response.
"And what do I get in return for this...generosity?" he finally asks, his gaze returning to my face. His thumb traces my lower lip, a gesture both possessive and strangely tender.
"My cooperation," I offer, choosing my words carefully. "I won't fight against the bond when it's active. I'll...try to be more open during the day."
"Not enough," he dismisses. "I want more."
His shadows caress my skin through the thin fabric of my dress, reminding me of their touch in the corridor. The bond pulses with his satisfaction at my body's immediate response.
"Stop," I whisper, but without conviction.
"What more do you want?" Ivy asks.
