"On second thought, show her to the small council chamber," I decide, a wicked smile curving my lips. "And send word to my mate. Tell her I require her presence for a matter of great importance."
"Lady Seraphina? At an official meeting?" Emmett's eyebrows rise. "Are you certain that's wise after last night's mating completion?"
"I want to see how my Omega responds to Lady Isla's particular brand of diplomacy. Besides, a jealous mate is an entertaining mate. And she may prove more politically astute than expected."
"And if she decides to eliminate the competition? Omegas can be quite territorial about their bonded Alphas. Especially newly mated ones."
"Even better. Court life has been dreadfully dull since my recovery. And I'm curious to see how my Omega's possessiveness manifests now that she bears my mark."
Seraphina's spike of awareness bleeds through the bond—she knows I'm planning something. I sense her wariness, her exhaustion, Perfect.
By the time I reach the small council chamber, Lady Isla is seated at the table with two of her advisors. When I enter, she rises immediately, her Beta scent—vanilla and amber—filling the space as she dismisses her companions.
"Lord Makalai," she purrs, her amber eyes drinking me in. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about our interrupted tour."
She looks fresh in a silver-gray gown that complements her silver-streaked dark hair. The neckline plunges daringly low, displaying Beta curves. After three days as a palace guest, she has clearly chosen her wardrobe with deliberate intent.
But she doesn't understand. I have a mate now. An Omega. The only scent I want is vanilla and light magic and sweet Omega musk.
"Lady Isla." I acknowledge her with a slight nod. "I understand these border incidents have grown urgent enough to extend your state mission."
Her lips curve into a knowing smile. "I must admit, I found myself quite stimulated by your palace yesterday before we were so unfortunately interrupted by your wife." She moves closer. "I had trouble sleeping last night. There seemed to be quite a commotion in the east wing. Something about walls cracking? And such passionate cries—was the Shadow Lady well? It sounded quite intense."
The implication is clear—she overheard my night with Seraphina.
My Alpha preens with smug satisfaction. Yes, you heard. You heard exactly who she belongs to.
"Renovations," I reply smoothly, though my Alpha scent floods with cold warning. "I find regular structural improvements keep the court alert. One never knows when a wall might come down. Particularly during certain vigorous activities."
"How fascinating." She steps closer, either not reading or deliberately ignoring my Alpha warning. "I've always admired Alphas who take a direct approach to their dominion. Perhaps we could continue our private tour today? I'm particularly interested in seeing your personal chambers."
Before I can respond, the door opens.
Seraphina enters, and the sight of her momentarily steals my focus from everything else.
She wears a gown of midnight blue that matches my formal attire, her hair arranged in an intricate style that exposes the elegant line of her neck—and the fresh mating mark at her throat. Two perfect crescent scars where my fangs pierced her scent gland, visible and unmistakable.
My Alpha purrs with deep satisfaction. Mine.
The silver infinity pendant I gave her hangs just above the mating mark—my gift and my bite, displayed for all to see.
After the other night's revelations—her desperate need for my bite matched by my shameful slip of Julia's name—I half-expect her to avoid my gaze. Instead, she meets my eyes directly, her chin held high with that familiar defiance that always ignites my blood.
"Forgive my tardiness," she says coolly, taking the seat to my right—the mate's position. "I wasn't informed of this meeting until moments ago."
Through our bond, I catch her emotional state clearly—wariness and beneath it all, a sharp edge of possessive fury when her gaze lands on Isla's hand positioned near mine on the table.
"Lady Seraphina," I say, enjoying the momentary confusion on Isla's face. My hand moves immediately to cover Seraphina's on the table, my Alpha needing the contact. "Lady Isla Wooden brings concerns about recent incidents along our borders with the Light Court."
Understanding dawns in Isla's eyes as she sees the mating mark. "The Shadow Lady," she murmurs, inclining her head with calculated respect. "I'd heard rumors of your marriage. The mating mark is quite fresh. My congratulations on your recent bonding."
"The fated mate bond demanded completion," I reply, deliberately placing my hand over Seraphina's, my thumb stroking her wrist. "Lady Seraphina graciously accepted my bite last night."
Through our connection, I feel Seraphina's spike of irritation at my official phrasing, followed by satisfaction when my thumb caresses her wrist. Her pulse jumps beneath my touch, and I sense her growing awareness of how much I can read through our completed bond.
"How fortunate for the Shadow Court," Isla says, her gaze lingering on our joined hands. "A Light Court Omega brings such opportunities for alliance. And completing the bond so quickly—how passionate."
"Indeed," Seraphina replies. "Just as the twilight clans have always found opportunity in positioning themselves between both realms. Though I imagine a Beta mediator can only understand Alpha-Omega bonds from observation."
