I haven’t forgotten. How could I? It’s a recurring nightmare, only dwarfed by what Zelos will do to me.
Tossing me back, he snarls, “I am your only chance for survival.Me, Max. No one else can save you. So be a goodpet, and act like you want to be here. Act like youwantme. Accept the bond. Or you may find yourself with a bigger threat than Griffin on our doorstep.”
Chapter
Two
KADEN MOORGATE, CURSED PRINCE OF THE SHADOWLANDS
That insufferable, defiant woman is going to be the death of me.
Stalking into the general’s office, I don’t bother hiding my shadows.
I spent the morning forcing Max to eat.Again. The infuriating Witch was going to starve herself if I didn’t and I can’t have her dying from sheer stubbornness.
I need her alive. As my mate, the only way I live, is if she does.
Though I’d be lying if I said that was the only reason I cared.
My shadows lash out, angry cat tails that extinguish candles and submerge the room into tarry blackness. It’s a small room for a general, with towering dark bookcases of ancient tomes, a large black ornate desk, chair, and very little else.
My uncle Oslo leans over his desk, brows furrowed, regarding my lack of control with worry. I can’t bring myself to care.
Grumbling, I kick the office door shut.
My irritation is high and my magic is reacting to my emotional turmoil. Which isn’t my fault—it’s thatdamnedwoman. All of this. The claiming. The predicament. Myfeelings.
As it is, my cursed beast refuses to stay quiet. It’s feeding off mychaos, pulling at my mental chains as if to break free. He’s never been so unruly before.
Everything isherfault.
Why did she have to be at the summit? Why did she call to me like a siren in the night, and why couldn’t I let hergo?
She has burrowed into my skin like a leech, draining me of all sense. She is always there in my mind, my soul, the very air I breathe. Gods above, I ache to go to her and kneel only to her, and yet I want to throw her out of this palace and be free.
If not for the hatred, I would think she’s doing this on purpose.
And onBel’s fiery balls, does she hate me. Truly, feverishly. I feel it whenever we’re together, the blistering burn of hatred, it almost calls to me as wickedly as my need to consume her.
The hatred, I understand. I claimed her, took her soul and sewed it into my own. I’d be a bastard not to understand it.
But what choice did I have? I couldn’t let Wulf breed her for more pups in his pursuit of power. And I wouldn’t allow Griffin to have her—the world could burn before I’d let that Human takemymate.
None of those were viable options. I was stuck using the only means I had to save her—by forcing the claim onto our souls.
Because failing to save her would have killed me as surely as any blade.
Let her hate me, condemn me. Hell, let her try to kill me. That claim is the only reason Zelos has not taken her, used her as he wishes. By giving her a piece of my soul, I’ve given her my life and with it, I’ve ensured her safety in this court.
A court damned by the Gods, they will try to break her, twist her into a monster. But with my claim, she is protected.I’ve done that for her.The least she could do wasappreciateall that I’vesacrificedfor her.
Annoyed, my uncle huffs at growing darkness, a fresh wave ready to drown us. I try to care—to pull my magic back to my center like he instructed me as a boy and find my calm. But it’s a losing battle.
I’ve yet to be able to take a full breath since we’ve arrivedhome—no doubt,herdoing, the damn vixen. She’s taken what little sense I’ve been able to retain—my thoughts, my reasoning—and holds it clutched within those tiny fists and cold blue eyes that want to strike me every time I’m near her.
How can she be so angry, when I’m feeling so annihilated by her?
Oslo leans over his desk. “Nephew. If you please?”
