I tug her toward the far end of the chamber where an alcove provides at least the illusion of privacy. She stumbles after me, not fighting my grip but not making it easy either.
“Let go of me,” she hisses once we’re away from the others.
“No.” I back her against the wall, caging her in with my arms. The black silk of her dress whispers against my suit as she shifts uncomfortably. “You knew this was coming, Little Sinner.”
“I know,” she says, her voice flat and cold.
I pause, thrown off by her response. “You know what?”
Her hazel eyes flash up at me, filled with venom. “That you’re my brother, what the fuck, Lucien? Is this some sick game to you? Some twisted power play?”
My lips curling into a cruel smile. “Yes, it’s a sick game, and we’re gonna play it.”
I lean in closer, my breath warm against her ear as I inhale the scent of her—berries and fear and anger.
“You’ve been Chosen,” I continue, my voice dropping to a growl. “And you’ll play your part because I may not be able to have you again, but no one else will.” I grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at me. “So you’ll be mine, and I’ll keep you in a cage of gold and ruby, and we’ll keep our little familial connection quiet.”
Her eyes widen as the full implications sink in. She tries to jerk away, but I hold her firmly in place.
“Just between me, you, Daddy Dearest, and...” I grimace, the name tasting like poison on my tongue, “Mariella.”
“You’re fucking insane,” she whispers, but there’s something else beneath the horror in her eyes—a flicker of heat she can’t quite hide. “I won’t do it.”
“You don’t have a choice.” I trace my thumb across her bottom lip, feeling it tremble beneath my touch.
“I hate you,” she hisses, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
“Hate me all you want.” I release her wrist to cup the back of her neck, my fingers tangling in her hair. “But you’re mine now. Officially. The ceremony’s just a formality.”
“He’ll never allow it,” Seraphina says. “Your dad will?—“
“Vincent will do nothing,” I cut her off. “The choice has been made. Even The Head can’t overrule tradition without revealing why and you know how we feel about infidelity amongst the founding families.”
I drag her back toward the center of the chamber where Cassian and Asher wait with their Chosen. The ceremony waits for no one, not even my fucking daddy issues.
“It’s time,” I announce, my voice echoing against the stone walls.
The elders enter silently from a hidden door, their faces obscured by ornate masks of black and gold. My father leads them, his tall frame unmistakable despite the disguise. His eyeslock with mine through the slits in his mask, and I see the moment he realizes who I’ve Chosen. His shoulders tense, his stride falters for just a heartbeat.
Let him fucking squirm knowing I did exactly what I said I was going to do.
The elders form a circle around us, their black robes brushing the stone floor. One of them approaches with a velvet cushion holding three ceremonial athames—exact replicas of the ones we used to pin our invitations. I recognize mine instantly, the handle inlaid with emeralds that match my eyes, the blade inscribed with my family’s motto.
Quod meum est meum erit in perpetuum.
What is mine will be mine forever.
I take the dagger, feeling its familiar weight in my palm. Beside me, Cassian and Asher do the same, their faces solemn for once.
“The blood calls to blood,” the elders chant in unison, their voices creating an eerie harmony that raises the hair on my arms. “The crown demands sacrifice. The choosing binds what can never be broken.”
I turn to Seraphina, who’s gone deathly pale. She knows what comes next. Every daughter of Black Crown is taught the ritual from birth.
“Kneel,” I command, my voice dropping to a register that makes her shiver despite herself.
“Fuck you,” she whispers, but there’s no real heat behind it. Just resignation.
“Maybe later,” I promise with a smirk that makes her cheeks flush. “Kneel now, or I’ll put you on your knees myself.”
