And the prince made one critical mistake.
He thought love made us weak.
He has no idea what a family of monsters is capable of when you threaten one of their own.
Or the enemy he just made out of his ‘consort.’
And I intend to make him regret ever calling me his princess.
Chapter Twenty-Four
RAZE
Seelie portal magic dissipates across the ruined clubhouse, leaving behind the acrid stench of fae enchantment and the scorched remnants of everything left behind. My dragon roars against the confines of flesh and bone, demanding transformation, demanding flight, demanding that I tear through dimensional barriers until I drag Roxy back from whatever frozen hell the goddamn prince has taken her to.
But rage won’t get Roxy back.
Fire alone won’t breach the Seelie Realm.
I force my scales back, and they recede beneath human skin, with an effort that leaves my muscles trembling and frost creeping across the stone beneath my boots.
Scar materializes beside me, flesh still smoking from where the prince’s magic burned through vampire resilience. His red eyes meet mine, ancient and understanding in ways that centuries of existence have carved into his very bones.
But before I can mobilize my brothers for the assault that will either reclaim what’smineor end me trying, the air in the center of the clubhouse begins to shimmer with power that makes my dragon recoil on pure instinct.
The temperature doesn’t drop or rise. Reality simply… shifts, bending around a presence that existed before dragons walked the earth, before vampires learned to feed on blood, before the first Fae Court carved territories from living magic.
Sheappears without ceremony or warning, manifesting in the space between heartbeats as though she had always been there, and we had simply failed to notice until now.
The witch.
Roxy’s mother.
The creature who cursed me three centuries ago and rewrote my entire existence to serve her version of balance.
The witch stands perhaps five and a half feet tall, her slim frame wrapped in obsidian silk, threaded with dull gold runes that pulse slowly and patiently beneath the surface. Violet light ghosts through the fabric when she moves, shadow and gold folding over one another like a living script that refuses to stay still. Her face carries the same sharp features I’ve memorized from Roxy, cheekbones that could cut glass, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. But where Roxy’s eyes burn bright with defiance and barely restrained power, her mother’s gaze holds something older… authority worn so long it no longer needs force to be obeyed.
Those eyes, deep violet rimmed in molten gold, sweep across the destruction of my clubhouse with cold precision. They track shattered glass, charred walls, fae blood still steaming against ancient stone, cataloging every fracture and scorch mark like a ledger written in war and consequence.
Nothing escapes her notice.
Not the violence.
Not the defiance.
Not me.
When she finally speaks, her voice carries the weight of absolute law. “You’ve broken the rules, dragon.”
Fire erupts beneath my skin in response, ice following immediately after in patterns that war for dominance across my scales. The dragon claws for release, a violent, instinctive surge pushing at the edges of my control, but I hold the line, power rolling off me in brutal waves that turn the air razor-cold and heavy, frost pressing against every throat in the room.
“She chose me,” I snarl, and the words rip from my throat, edged in flames I can barely contain. “Your daughter chose tostay, chose to break your precious curse, chosemeover your fucking laws.”
The witch’s expression doesn’t change. “My daughter was sent to observe, to report. To help you find thecontentmentnecessary to master your fire before it consumes everything around you.” Her gaze sharpens, ancient and unyielding. “She wasnevermeant to become part of the equation.”
That lands harder than any accusation.
Not because of the curse.
