MALAKAI
I dismiss Lady Isla with thinly veiled contempt as twilight deepens outside the observatory windows. Her seduction attempts grew increasingly brazen throughout the afternoon, each touch lingering, each smile promising more. Any other day, I might find her desperation entertaining. Today, it grates against my already dark mood.
I spent two days locked in my chambers with Seraphina during her heat. Two days of her desperate need, her complete trust, her utter surrender. Two days of knotting her, caring for her, protecting her through the most vulnerable state an Omega can experience. And then I left her to play political games with a Beta diplomat who means nothing. The wrongness of it gnaws at me. My Alpha is furious that I left our Omega alone so soon after her first heat. She needs reassurance, needs to know the heat didn't change how I see her needs— I cut the thought off viciously. She's my mate. My conquest. Nothing more. But the lie tastes bitter even to myself.
"Lord Malakai," she purrs as we descend the steps, her scent deliberately enticing. "The evening is young. Perhaps we could continue our discussions over wine in your chambers?"
My shadows coil irritably at my feet. Something about the observatory—this ancient dome where Julia and I once spent countless nights studying the stars—unsettles me deeply. My first Omega mate. My dead mate.
"Political matters must wait," I reply coldly. "Court business requires my attention."
She inclines her head and retreats, her scent spiking with disappointment. I watch her go, shadows writhing in agitation. The observatory was a mistake—too many ghosts of an Omega I've spent centuries trying to bury.
I find myself drawn toward my private chambers instead of returning to the main hall. The anniversary approaches—three days from now marks two centuries since Julia took her life rather than witness what I was becoming. Two hundred years, and the wound remains raw.
Palace staff move aside as I pass, my shadows darkening the corridor. I barely register their presence, lost in memories I usually keep locked away. Julia's smile. Her laughter echoing through these hallways. Her sweet scent. The horror in her eyes when she realized what I was becoming—what kind of Alpha I truly was.
I dismiss the guards outside my door. "I am not to be disturbed."
Alone, I sink into a chair by the fireplace, conjuring shadows with a flick of my wrist. The dancing light casts shadows that almost resemble a woman's silhouette on the wall.
Julia. My first love. My greatest failure.
I should seek out Seraphina. After claiming her so thoroughly that stone walls cracked under our mating—after finally biting her, completing our bond, drinking her blood—she deserves...what? Tenderness? Conversation? These are not qualities I've cultivated over centuries of rule.
Yet something about her pulls at me—her defiance, her strength, her unexpected surrender, the way she begged for my bite. She is nothing like Julia. Seraphina is fire; Julia was water, steel—silk. Different Omegas, different bonds.
I'm drawn to her in ways I haven't felt since Julia.
The thought unsettles me. I pour myself shadow wine, a rare vintage that can intoxicate even immortal Alphas, and drink deeply.
Hours pass. The fire burns low. My mind wanders through corridors of memory, revisiting moments better left forgotten. I should send for Seraphina, should check on my newly mated Omega, but instead I pour another glass, seeking temporary oblivion. My darkness had pushed Julia to take her life, and our child's life—an Omega pregnant with an Alpha's child, driven to suicide by my cruelty. It was my doing, and I hate myself for it. Shadows coil darker, my mood plummeting. I take another large swallow of wine, and I don't stop until the bottle is gone.
Eventually, as midnight approaches, something tugs at my awareness—the completed mating bond, strangely muted. I reach for it instinctively, seeking Seraphina's emotions through our connection. Instead of the usual clarity, I find only distant echoes, faint and troubling, as if she's somehow been dampened or blocked.
I sit up, wine forgotten, my instincts flaring with alarm. The muffled quality sets my shadows writhing. I push harder against whatever is interfering.
Still muted, but there—a thread of consciousness, distant and fragile. Something is wrong. Or has the fairy started to interfere again?
Unease transforms into something darker. I rise, throwing open my chamber door.
"Guards!" I call, my voice sharp. "Where is Lady Seraphina?"
They exchange nervous glances, clearly uncomfortable. "We haven't seen her since late this afternoon, my lord. She was last spotted near the eastern gardens around sunset."
"What do you mean you haven't seen her?" My shadows darken. "Has anyone seen my mate since sunset?"
"There was...an incident in the eastern gardens at sunset, my lord," one guard says hesitantly. "Lady Seraphina seemed distressed. Her scent was...very upset. She was breaking things in the corridor afterward. The garden staff thought it best to give her space. That was perhaps three hours ago."
Fury builds in my chest. "And no one thought to inform me that my mate was in distress?"
The guards pale. "We...we assumed you knew through the bond, my lord."
"Find her," I order, shadows lashing violently. "Now."
I stride toward Seraphina's chambers, shadows billowing like storm clouds. Her chambers are empty, the bed untouched, her scent hours old. I probe every corner, seeking any trace of her presence, any hint of her sweet vanilla-light scent.
Nothing recent.
