"No," Ivy agrees, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "But it makes him better than you thought. And that, my dear friend, might be the most dangerous thing of all."
CHAPTER 17
THREE TRUTHS
MALAKAI
Darkness puddles where I stood, thicker than it should be as I await my wife's arrival, the puddles’ agitation mirroring the storm brewing in my chest. The memory of Seraphina's fairy conspirator, Ivy, still burns fresh in my mind, but what truly sets my blood on fire is the knowledge that my Omega bride has been using modified fairy potions to weaken our fated mate bond beyond what we agreed upon, making it harder to read her thoughts and feelings.
My Alpha instincts are in overdrive. The incomplete bond is driving me toward an early rut—I can feel it simmering beneath my skin, making me more aggressive, more possessive, more desperate to claim what's mine. To bite her. To mark her.
Three truths. That was our bargain. Three honest answers in exchange for allowing her some privacy through the modified potion. But she's taken liberties with our agreement, and I find myself craving more than truth. I want to strip away every layer of deception until she stands bare before me—body, mind, and soul.
"You look like a caged Alpha contemplating murder," Emmett observes from his position by the window. "Should I be concerned about your mental state, or is this your normal pre-wife meeting ritual?"
I shoot him a withering glare. My fangs are already partially descended—have been since I woke this morning with her scent lingering in my sheets. "I'm contemplating various ways to disembowel you while maintaining our friendship. It's quite the mental exercise, really."
"Charming as always," he replies dryly. "Might I suggest practicing your matrimonial diplomacy instead? That expression would terrify seasoned warriors."
"Excellent," I grin. "Fear is an important foundation for any lasting bond."
Emmett pinches the bridge of his nose. "Your bonding philosophy explains so much about your court's high turnover rate."
"People either adapt to my methods or become a decorative example for others," I shrug. "I find both outcomes equally satisfactory."
"And Lady Seraphina ?" Emmett asks carefully. "Which outcome are you hoping for with your Omega mate?"
The question hits unexpectedly close to something I don't care to examine. My shadows darken around me as my control wavers, my Alpha scent shifting from aggression to something more complex—possessiveness mixed with longing.
"She's different," I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
"Different how?"
Different because she fought for my life during the curse when letting me die would have freed her. Different because she stands her ground instead of cowering. Different because when I touch her, something ancient and buried stirs in my chest—something that reminds me dangerously of feelings I swore died two hundred years ago with Julia.
"Different in that she hasn't broken yet," I reply instead, my tone deliberately cruel to mask the truth even from myself. "Most Omegas shatter within the first week. She's proving more durable."
Emmett looks skeptical but wisely chooses not to press further. "Well, your 'plaything' will be here momentarily. I'll take my leave before the inevitable pyrotechnics begin."
"Coward. You're missing the best part of my day."
"Some of us prefer to maintain our eyebrows unsinged," he retorts, pausing at the threshold. "Try not to destroy the study this time. The repairs from your last 'discussion' with Lady Seraphina cost more than a village's annual tax contribution."
"Worth every gold piece," I reply with a wolfish smile. "The way she looks when she's furious—it's quite stimulating."
My Alpha senses pick up her scent before she reaches the door—vanilla and light magic with an underlying sweetness. But there's something else today, a slight bitter note that suggests anxiety. But beneath the anxiety, there's something else—something that makes my nostrils flare and my cock twitch in my trousers. Her scent is changing. The vanilla is richer now, warmer, with an undertone of honey that wasn't there a week ago. The suppressants are now completely gone from her system, her Omega biology breaking free after nine years of constant chemical suppression.
My Alpha instincts immediately catalog the visual signs: the slight flush to her cheeks that has nothing to do with anger, the way she shifts her weight as if her skin feels too tight, the almost imperceptible tremor in her hands. Pre-heat. She's sliding toward her first real heat since presenting, and she either doesn't realize it yet or is desperately trying to ignore it.
Soon, my Alpha growls with dark satisfaction. Very soon, she'll be in full heat, desperate and aching, and when that happens, all her hatred won't matter. Her Omega will beg for my knot, my bite, my seed.
The thought sends a surge of possessive hunger through me that borders on painful.
A knock sounds just as Emmett opens the door. Seraphina stands in the corridor, surprise briefly crossing her features before her mask of composure slides back into place.
"Perfect timing, Lady Seraphina ," Emmett says, bowing slightly. "I was just leaving before the imminent catastrophe."
"Always the optimist," I call out as he departs with undue haste.
