“They are willing to give you that,” he continued. “They have never extended such a position to someone created outside their bloodlines. They see your endurance. They see how you survivedwhat should have destroyed you. They want you as part of them.”
“Part of them,” I repeated quietly. The words sat heavy.
He stepped back. “Hear this plain: they will not stop until you are theirs or silent.”
“Then let them try.” I felt a tiredness in my chest that was older than anger.
Cassian’s hand hovered near the table, then rested on the carved wood. “If you will not join, then prepare. Name your allies. Gather those you trust. You will need them.”
“I trust only the truth,” I said. “And myself.”
Cassian left then. He moved into the shadow of the corridor and became a figure on the wall. He carried his silk cloak without apology.
The window cooled my palms. Outside, the wolves found their kill and tore with efficient hunger. I closed my hand until the red came free and stained my cuff. The court had measured me and wanted me in their ledger. I would not be an entry. I would be a warning.
The storm had been growing all night. Wind tore through the corridors like the last breath of something dying. When the raven came—a black smear against the blood-red sky—I should have ignored it.
But the Sovereign Court did not send messages twice. So, I went.
The ballroom was colder than the storm. Gold-leafed arches, marble columns, chandeliers heavy with the dust of centuries. The fire in the hearth fought to stay alive, its light weak and uneven against the vast darkness of the room.
I stood alone before the throne dais, cloak still damp with snow. My patience had begun to fray by the time the doors creaked open.
Cassian entered first. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. That was answer enough.
Then they came. Ambrosia, gliding in black silk, her lips curved like a wound that smiled. Hammond behind her, with that aristocrat’s smug calm that always made my teeth ache. And three others—the silent, whispering parasites who called themselves arbiters. I did not speak their names; I would not give them that power.
Their robes whispered across the floor. The air changed when they entered. Old magic. Rot disguised as ritual.
A servant brought the silver chalice, engraved with the sigil of the court. The scent of bloodwine rose thick and rich.
Ambrosia’s tone was honeyed venom as she approached me. “A token of respect, my lord. Let us drink to peace between us. The court offers parlay.” The remaining parasites gathered behind her raised their goblets, my brother among them.
Peace. The word hung there.
I took the goblet. I drank.
It tasted wrong. Too sharp. Metallic. Too bitter to belong to blood.
Iron root.
My chest tightened before the pain came. Fire. Acid. My muscles locked; my knees nearly buckled. The goblet slipped from my fingers and tumbled to the floor.
“Cowards,” I hissed, fangs descending as I fought the paralysis creeping up my spine. “Treacherous, backbiting swine. You wear silk and speak of order, but your hearts rot with fear.”
Ambrosia stepped closer. The firelight painted her face in gold and cruelty. “Forgive our deception, Lord Cristian,” she saidin a sing-song voice. “None among us possess the strength to bind you in a fair duel. We had to be… creative.”
Her smile widened. “Such a shame, really,” she purred. “We could have been unstoppable together.”
She reached up, cupped my face with one cool hand, and kissed me. Not a courtesy. Not a test. A claim. Her lips pressed to mine while my body still fought the venom. I tasted iron root, silk, and cruelty. I tore my mouth away in disgust.
The guards moved. Four of them. Maybe five. I gathered all the energy I had left and tore through the first, breaking his neck and tossing his body to the ground. The second screamed when I ripped open his throat. Hammond rushed me, stupid and brave, and I slammed him into the column hard enough to crack stone.
Then Cassian’s desperate voice. “Brother. Please.”
He stepped between us.
I froze. Every muscle screamed for violence, but his eyes… his eyes were already full of apology.
