And yet…
I wait for the bitter taste of jealousy to coat my tongue when he takes her hand, but it doesn’t. I wait for it to twist my stomach to knots when they stand before Lady Thalia as she recites the ancient words of our people about bonding souls, and it still does not come. My chest swells with something, but it’s certainly not jealousy. There’s a certain rightness at seeing my mate take this human. To see his happiness blossom during a time where misery and evil linger in the air. It’s so out of place, but exactly what this kingdom needs.
Exactly what he needs.
I take my place behind Niko. My mate meets my gaze, unasked questions hanging between us. I cup his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It’s the only comfort I can provide him at this time, but it seems to work as he relaxes under my touch.
Evangeline looks between us, uncertainty coloring her features. She bites her bottom lip, and the action betrays my body. Something warm grows in my stomach, heading south, but before I can bask in that feeling, I clamp it down. Hard. Because Evangeline isn’t mine. I don’t want her.
I almost believe the lie.
I watch in rapt fascination as Lady Thalia gentlywraps a golden rope around their joined hands, her movements gentle and reverent. The rope glows faintly in the moonlight, a sacred symbol of their union, one that binds not only their bodies but their souls. It’s the same rope Niko and I used during our own mating ceremony, and the memory flickers to life with surprising clarity.
Ours was a grand affair, a spectacle meant for the entire kingdom. The palace gardens were transformed into a sea of golden lights, music, and laughter that lasted for days. Dignitaries, nobles, and fae from every corner of the kingdom came to witness the moment. I vaguely remember the vows. Most of it passed in a blur, not because of the wine or the fanfare, but because I was singularly focused on one thing: making Niko mine, completely and undeniably.
We made our obligatory appearance at the feast, smiling through the toasts and well wishes, but we didn’t linger for long. That night, we slipped away from the noise and into the sanctuary of our chambers, where the real celebration took place—just the two of us, shedding titles, expectations, and clothes. We were young, wild, and completely consumed by each other. Carefree in a way I didn’t realize was rare until much later.
Feels like a lifetime ago.
But it all comes back, freezing my very core. I can’t do anything but watch. Their lips are moving, saying vows, but I register none of it. Niko turns his head, probably sensing my emotions. His lips turn down in a frown.
I told him I was okay with the mating.
He’s doubting it.
The thing is, Iamokay with the ceremony. Evangeline and I will be mated and loved by the same man. We won’t—can’t—mate with each other.
I do my best to offer a smile, but it’s tight and doesn’t reach my eyes. Niko knows I’m full of shit but thankfully doesn’t call me on it. His gaze moves back to Evangeline, who looks so small compared to him. She’s a short little thing.
“Let us commemorate this union between mortal and fae with a kiss,” Lady Thalia announces, her voice slicing through the fog of my thoughts.
Evangeline stiffens. Her eyes fly to mine—not Niko’s—panic flashing behind them. She’s searching my face, desperate to gauge my reaction. I don’t look away. My jaw clenches, lips pressed into a hard, unmoving line. I’m not angry. At least, I don’t think I am. But hell if I know what I’m actually showing her. I’ve never been good at this shit—reading emotions, showing restraint. That’s more Niko’s territory.
She waits, but I stay silent. The space between us thickens, heavy with everything I’m not saying. Everything I don’t know how to say.
Luckily, Niko jumps in, cupping her face between his hands and forcing her to look at him. Her cheeks redden with a natural blush. Niko’s thumb gently caresses her cheek in a slow, circular motion. “It’s okay, Evangeline,” he says, voice kind, yet firm. He wants her to know this is exactly what needs to happen. “You’re mine, Little Chef, and I’m going to kiss you now.”
“But—”
Niko doesn’t let her finish. He surgesforward, capturing her mouth in a deep, consuming kiss that cuts off her protest.
Evangeline goes rigid in his arms, startled. But then something shifts. Her fingers curl against his chest, and a soft, breathless gasp escapes her lips. Slowly, she melts into him, her body yielding, pressing against his as if answering some ancient call. The primal need radiating off both nearly steals my breath.
They fit together like two pieces of a forgotten sculpture—chiseled from the same stone, meant to find each other again. Her hesitation burns away, replaced by a feverish hunger. She kisses him back with wild, unrestrained energy, nothing like the tentative woman from moments before. This Evangeline is bold, fierce, and utterly captivated.
My body heats, and I blame it on Niko. He’s turned on and feeding it through our bond. But deep down, I know that’s not the only reason. Evangeline moans, and the sound goes straight to my fucking cock like I’m some pubescent teen who can’t control his excitement around women. The way Niko growls, curling one hand around her hip, sends longing throughout my body.
I’m not going to fucking survive this. I?—
The thought is ripped from me, swallowed by the sharp, jarring sound of screams.
It happens so fast, the world shifts on its axis. One moment, I’m drowning in the hunger of watching them—Niko claiming what’s his, Evangeline surrendering with fire in her eyes—and the next, panic explodes like a dropped torch in dry grass.
Niko jerks back, pulling Evangeline to his chest. “What the fuck was that?” he growls. Before I can answer, terrible, high-pitched screams fill the forest once again. There’s only one creature that makes that type of piercing yell.
Nephilim.
Back in our kingdom. Somehow getting through the guards we left back at the borders.
