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I peer down at my plate with overwhelming guilt, but movement at the other table draws my attention again. I hate that my body reacts before my mind can catch up.

Kylian stands. The quiet conversations dipping just enough to acknowledge his presence as he steps away from the guards and moves through the hall with that lethal, effortless grace that makes my pulse stutter against my will.

His path cuts directly toward us. Toward me.

My breath catches.

He stops beside the table, and I see Arlo go rigid across from me, every muscle in his body tensing. Kylian’s gaze flicks briefly to Arlo, dismissive, cold, before settling on me with an intensity that makes the bond flare hot beneath my skin.

“I need to feed before I leave in the morning,” he states, his tone even like this is a routine statement, like he isn’t standing here staking a claim in front of the one person who would give anything to take me away from all of this.

Arlo makes a sound beside me, not quite a laugh, not quite a scoff, something in between that carries more venom than either. “Of course you do, because that is all she is to you, a fucking blood bag.”

Kylian’s head turns slowly. “What was that?”

Arlo doesn’t back down. He’s angry with me because he laid his whole heart out on the table, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off Kylian. He leans back slightly in his chair, his expression hardening into something I’ve rarely seen from him, something cruel and burning with jealousy. “Do you really need me to repeat myself? I thought vampires have enhanced hearing.”

The shift in the air is immediate, and I can feel the violence coiling in Kylian through the bond. The rising rage inside of him is dark and possessive, and every instinct screams at me to move, to get between them, to stop whatever is about to happen.

Kylian moves before I have a chance to react, his hand closing around Arlo’s throat as he hauls him up from his seat in one brutal, fluid motion, the chair toppling backward with a crack against the stone floor.

Every conversation in the room dies at once. Arlo’s feet leave the ground before Kylian slams him back down onto the table, holding him by the throat.

“Careful,” Kylian growls. “The only reason you’re still alive is because of her. That can change.”

“Then kill me,” Arlo spits, his voice strained, his hands gripping Kylian’s wrist but not trying to pull it away, not giving him the satisfaction of struggling. “See how she feels about that.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Something dark flashes across Kylian’s face. His pupils dilate, and the veins beneath his jaw darken as the predator side of him rushes forward. “The only reason you’re breathing is because she has some twisted sense of loyalty to you, some trauma-bonded guilt she hasn’t been able to shake, and somehow you believe you’re worthy of her. In reality, you are nothing but a debt she feels obligated to repay.”

The cruelty of his words steals the air from my lungs. I open my mouth to intervene, but Arlo is already firing back, his voice ragged around the edges where Kylian’s grip tightens.

“And the only reason she even tolerates you is because of the bond you forced on her.”

Kylian laughs. “You really believe that?” he asks, tilting his head slightly as his grip tightens for just a second before loosening again, playing with Arlo’s life like it is a coin he is deciding whether to flip. “Do you think that the only thing keeping her here is a bond, and that if the bond disappeared tomorrow, she’d choose you? You think she’d run off to whatever pitiful corner of the world you’ve been dreaming about and play house with a man who can’t even protect his own family?”

Arlo’s jaw clenches so hard I see the muscle jumping beneath his skin. “At least I would never put her in cuffs and call it love.”

Something snaps in Kylian’s expression, something behind his eyes that turns savage, and the violence surges up in him. I know with absolute certainty that if I don’t move right now, Arlo is going to die in front of me.

Eagan’s hand closes around Kylian’s arm. “Kylian,” he says.

“Let him go,” I add, stepping closer, my fingers wrapping around Kylian’s wrist. The moment my skin touches his, I feel the bond flare between us, hot and electric. The rage in him shudders.

For a moment, neither of them moves. Arlo stares at Kylian with a hatred that burns so bright I can almost feel the heat of it. Kylian stares back with something worse than hatred, something possessive and murderous.

Kylian leans down, his fangs appearing, and I gasp. Eagan’s grip on his arm tightens. “If she loves you the way you think, why hasn’t she rejected the bond,” Kylian whispers.

Arlo’s brows furrow, and Kylian laughs.

“She didn’t tell you that part? That I can’t bond or mark her unless she consents to it. I can’t feed from her unless she agrees or wants me to. I am not forcing her to do anything. She could have rejected our bond and hasn’t . . .” Kylian’s hand tightens, and Arlo’s face turns a dark shade of pink. “If she loves you as much as you claim, then ask yourself why she hasn’t rejected the bond.”

Kylian shoves Arlo back hard enough that the table slides across the floor into the wall, plates sliding, cups spilling. The sound of it is almost absurdly loud in the silence.

The room is frozen. Every eye on us. Guards standing ready to move if needed. Civilians pressed back trying to get as far away as possible from the king.

Then a commotion breaks through when the double doors bang open, slamming against the walls. Shouting. Boots pounding against stone. Then a guard comes running into the hall with a worn satchel slung over his shoulder and a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

“The Elven King’s ships just anchored off the coast,” he calls out, his voice cutting through the tension so cleanly that it pulls every head in the room toward him. Guards rush out, heading for the piers, and the man holding the piece of paper moves toward the king. “They brought mail and this.”