Page 40

“Complete compliance disguised as willing cooperation. Professor Morgan develops according to precise Seelie specifications. You report her progress exclusively to me. You ensure her loyalties align with our court’s requirements rather than her own instincts.

” Amarantha closes the folder with movements calculated for maximum psychological devastation.

“Accomplish this successfully, and our family’s unfortunate political history remains safely buried. Refuse...”

She doesn’t need to complete the threat.

Exposure of my parents’ work would trigger execution for inherited treason.

Not just for me, but posthumous condemnation that would erase their names from every record, brand their research heretical, obliterate their memory from Seelie consciousness forever.

“You have three days to establish the consort bond properly,” Thornweave adds, his voice like mountains grinding against each other during earthquakes. “The Unseelie are undoubtedly preparing their own blade for her throat. We cannot afford to lose this particular race.”

Amarantha’s nails drum against crystal in deliberate patterns. Three measured taps that echo like nails being hammered into coffin wood. “Three days, beloved cousin. Bond her, break her will, or watch your family’s memory burn to ash while you follow them into darkness.”

“Three days,” I repeat, my voice hollow as wind through abandoned burial chambers.

“Three days to secure the Seelie Court’s glorious future,” Amarantha corrects, stepping back with a predator’s satisfaction after successful intimidation.

“And your family’s continued honor, of course.

” Her eyes glitter with malicious anticipation.

“I have such profound faith in your abilities, cousin. You’ve always been so.

.. thorough in your research methodology. ”

The threat beneath her praise burns like acid injected directly into my bloodstream.

“You’re dismissed, Professor,” Brighthaven announces with diplomatic finality that offers no appeal. “Do remember—the Academy exists purely at the pleasure of the courts. Certain... inappropriate behaviors might jeopardize that carefully maintained arrangement.”

The chamber dissolves around me like a nightmare ending, depositing me back in the corridor with the black folder clutched in hands that shake like autumn leaves in winter wind. Strength bleeds from my bones like water through sand as the full weight of impossible choices crashes down.

Three days to betray the woman I’m falling for. Three days to corrupt a consort bond into an instrument of control. Three days to become everything I’ve sworn never to be.

Or watch my family’s legacy burn and take me with it.

I stumble toward my quarters on legs that feel like water, gravity seeming to double against shoulders that can barely support the weight of breathing.

The Academy corridors feel like a maze designed specifically to trap me, each step echoing with the weight of Amarantha’s ultimatum.

But I’ve barely reached my door when familiar footsteps approach—Orion, returning from whatever Wild Court business demanded his attention through the dark hours.

His amber eyes catalog my pale complexion with uncomfortable accuracy, noting my death-grip on the folder, the way my hands shake like I’m dissolving from the inside out.

“Tell me how it went,” he says quietly, though his expression suggests he already knows the answer will be catastrophic.

“They didn’t summon me for information,” I admit, my voice hollow as wind through empty graves. “They summoned me for orders. Orders that come with consequences I can’t refuse.” I hold up the black folder like evidence of my own execution warrant. “Orders that will destroy everything I believe in.”

Orion’s expression darkens, actual flame flickering to life in his hair as rage kindles. “What kind of orders are we talking about?”

“Complete control over her development. Consort bond as leash rather than partnership. Mental manipulation disguised as love.” The words taste like ash and betrayal ground to powder. “Three days to establish dominance or face...”

“Or face what?”

“Family destruction. Everything my parents worked toward, branded as treason. Their memory erased completely, their research destroyed, their names forgotten. Me executed for inherited sedition.”

Orion’s amber eyes flare with violence barely contained beneath civilized veneer. “They’re holding your entire bloodline hostage.”

“Effectively, yes.” I lean against my door, needing solid wood to keep me upright when my legs threaten to buckle. “What about you? The Wild Court wouldn’t ignore this level of magical manifestation.”

His jaw ticks. “The Morrigan visited. Wants me to accelerate the guardian bond, ensure Ash chooses Wild Court over the alternatives.” He runs a hand through flame-bright hair, actual sparks dancing between his fingers like fireflies of rage.

“Not through force, but through emotional dependency. Make her addicted to Wild Court protection. Like a drug she can’t survive without. ”

“So we’re both being positioned as puppets in someone else’s game.”

“Seems that way.” Orion studies my face with uncomfortable intensity that sees too much. “What are you going to do?”

The question hangs between us like a blade balanced on its edge—duty to family versus loyalty to her. Political survival versus personal integrity. Everything I’ve built over centuries balanced against a woman I’ve known for weeks.

A woman who trusts me enough to accept forbidden knowledge. Who looks at me like I might actually be worth believing in.

But another realization chills me to the marrow—ice flooding my veins as pieces click together with horrible clarity.

“What if Amarantha’s interest in controlling Ash isn’t purely about court politics?

What if it connects to those reports I’ve been hearing, whispered conversations about Wild Court communities going silent, disappearing without any trace? ”

Orion goes absolutely still. “What are you thinking?”

“Empty settlements. Missing bloodlines. Systematic elimination.” The words come out strangled by growing horror. “What if Amarantha isn’t just planning to control the last royal heir—what if she’s been exterminating every other Wild Court bloodline to ensure no challenges to her authority?”

“You’re talking about genocide.”

“I’m talking about someone who’s been playing a centuries-long game while the rest of us thought we were maintaining peace.” My hands shake harder, the folder threatening to slip from nerveless fingers. “Someone who’s been systematically removing opposition before making her final move.”

“There’s something else you need to know,” Orion says, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper that carries the weight of terrible secrets.

“Wild Court settlements have been going dark. Entire communities, just... gone. No bodies, no signs of struggle. Like they simply vanished from existence.”

The floor tilts beneath my feet like the world is ending. “How many?”

“Too many. The Morrigan thinks it’s connected to Ash’s awakening. Someone’s been moving pieces across the board, preparing for something massive.”

“Eliminating potential allies,” I realize with growing horror that makes bile burn up my throat.

“Or anyone who might recognize what she truly represents.”

Orion’s expression hardens with resolve that makes him look ancient despite his apparent youth. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather die fighting than live as her puppet.”

“And if we refuse their terms?” I ask, though acid burns my throat with the question.

“Then the Academy falls,” Orion says with brutal honesty, each word a hammer blow against hope.

“Three thousand years of neutral ground, of preserved knowledge, of safe haven for students from every court, gone. If Seelie and Unseelie go to war over Wild Court restoration, this place becomes the first casualty. Every student, every text, every person we’ve sworn to protect dies in the crossfire. ”

He meets my eyes with grim determination that cuts through despair. “But she still deserves better than being controlled by people who see her as a political tool. Even if protecting her choice costs us everything we’ve built.”

“You’re absolutely right, of course.” I press my thumb against my bottom lip, mind racing through impossible calculations. “But there has to be another way. Some option they haven’t considered.”

“There’s something else you need to understand,” Orion continues, his voice carrying weight that makes my chest tighten with dread.

“The consort bonds they’re demanding—they’re not just political alliances.

They’re magical leashes. Once established, they can force compliance, override free will, turn love into slavery. ”

“I know.” The admission scrapes my throat raw like swallowing broken glass. “My family’s records are... unfortunately detailed about the process.”

“Then you know what they’re really asking us to do.”

“Destroy her while making her believe we’re saving her.” The words taste like poison and ash ground to powder.

As Orion melts back into the shadows like the dangerous predator he truly is, I’m left standing in the corridor with Amarantha’s ultimatum burning in my hands like a live coal.

Three days to choose between family legacy and personal honor.

Three days to decide if love is worth risking everything I’ve ever known.

The black folder weighs heavier than stone, containing the power to destroy me—or to destroy the woman who’s started to mean more than my own survival.

But somewhere in the darkness, another possibility begins to form. Dangerous. Unprecedented. Potentially catastrophic for everyone involved.

What if we refuse to play by their rules entirely?

Three days.

I only hope it’s enough time to find a third option that doesn’t end with everyone I care about bleeding out on ancient stones.