Page 24

Chapter

Twenty-Three

“They didn’t just react—they pulled toward you, like your blood was some sort of key.” Jaxon gestured animatedly as he spoke, not seeming to notice that Araya hadn’t said a word since he helped her into the carriage. “In all my research, no accounts ever mentioned something like that?—”

Araya pressed her forehead to the cool glass, watching the city blur past as the carriage rattled over the cobblestones. Her hand throbbed where the shard of bone had sliced her—a mirror of the cut she’d gotten on that same beach with her mother so many years ago. The shadows had been there then, too. Her mother had hoped the humans wouldn’t chase them onto the beach because of them...but she had been wrong.

“—like there’s some sort of a link between you?—”

“What?” Araya straightened, her focus snapping to Jaxon.

“There’s something between the two of you,” Jaxon insisted. “Don’t bother denying it. It explains everything. Why you’ve been so reluctant to do what needs to be done when it comes to him, why you’re always defending him—but none of it is your fault, Starling. It’s just instinct. ”

“Instinct,” Araya repeated, fear bitter on her tongue. “I don’t think so, Jaxon. What could a halfblood fae possibly have in common with a prince? I was only two years old when he was imprisoned.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a king strayed, Starling.”

“You think we’re related ?” Araya stared at him. “My mother was fae?—”

“That’s what you remember, anyway.” Jaxon shrugged. “You were quite young. I’ll have to dig into your records to try and figure it out. But imagine it—what if you could claim the shadows? You’d be a weapon that could change the balance of power entirely?—”

Araya caught her breath. “But you said you’d dispel the shadows,” she protested. “The fae in the districts?—”

“I know what I said,” Jaxon snapped. “But this is a war , Araya. Just because you don’t see it being fought here doesn’t mean it isn’t killing people—humans and fae. What if we could apply this to the Eldergreen? If we win there, we help everyone. Not just the fae in Ravonfar.”

The walls of the carriage seemed to close in around her, the scent of vanilla and burning aether slowly suffocating her. Jaxon’s voice hummed in the background, smooth and enthusiastic, as though he hadn’t just dismissed the fae as casualties of progress. She glanced back out the window, fighting the bile rising in her throat.

But his words found her anyway, curling around her like a vice. “We’re so close, Starling,” he said, his tone almost gentle. “Imagine what we could do if we harnessed that power. The possibilities…”

She clenched her jaw, her nails biting into the fabric of her dress. At what cost? The question burned on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down, knowing it wouldn’t matter. Jaxon had already made his decision.

Araya looked away, unable to bear the ruthlessness in his gaze. It wasn’t just indifference to the fae in Ravonfar—it was an unflinching conviction that any cost was worth it, that any life was expendable if it meant achieving his goals. Her hands were shaking now, her bag trembling in her lap. She needed to get out of this carriage, away from Jaxon’s suffocating presence, away from the weight of what she had unleashed on the world.

She clenched her jaw as the carriage approached their building, tracing the outline of the case holding the amulets through the fabric of her bag. “You should go in,” she said. “These really need to be stored in the dungeon workshop. I can have the carriage take me back?—”

“Absolutely not.” Jaxon shook his head. “That amulet stays with one of us at all times. Hale already got in there once—I’m not giving him a chance to take this away from us.”

Araya’s heart sank as the carriage lurched to a stop. She had no choice but to follow him, to step out into the cold night air and walk up the steps to their apartment. The unlit apartment felt more ominous than it normally did, like the shadows clinging to the wall were part of the mists waiting to consume her and leave only bones behind.

Araya wanted to flee, to lock herself in some small, safe room and press her back against the door until her mind finally quieted. But Jaxon was watching her, so she just wiggled her feet out of her boots and kicked them into place by the door

“Lock those in my office,” he said, stepping out of his own boots.

Araya flinched, hastily closing the door to the safe and sealing its contents away. Jaxon leaned against the doorframe, watching her. His smile was soft—but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Before she could step away, he crossed the room in three easy strides and slid an arm around her waist. She stiffened, instinctively trying to step back—but he lifted her effortlessly and set her on the edge of his desk.

“Jaxon—” she caught her breath, heat flushing across her skin. “I’m tired. I just want to go to sleep.”

“This will only take a moment,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

That’s when she saw her bloodletting kit in his other hand .

“Jaxon…” she protested, her voice faltering.

“It’s just a little blood,” he said soothingly. He opened her kit, spreading out her supplies beside her on the desk. “We can only take so much at once—with the time it takes to distill it…well, it only makes sense to start now, doesn’t it?”

She opened her mouth to protest again, but he tightened the tourniquet around her arm, already moving on.

“Tomorrow, I’ll look into your history,” he said absently, his focus on her arm. “The Arcanum reviewed them before they approved our bond, of course. But maybe they missed something?—”

He tapped her arm, searching for the vein. She flinched as the needle slid in—a sharp sting, followed by a slow, pulsing ache. His other hand settled on her knee, grounding her—or maybe he was trapping her. Araya wasn’t sure. Not anymore.

“You’re special, Starling,” he murmured, staring at her dark blood flowing into the vial. “More special than either of us realized.”

Araya stared at the edge of the desk, her eyes stinging as she blinked hard. She couldn’t look at him—at the blood, at what he was taking from her.

“There,” Jaxon said at last, removing the needle with brisk efficiency. “See? That didn’t take long at all.”

Araya stared down at her blood, neatly collected into vials and tucked into the velvet-lined case. “You didn’t ask.”

Jaxon blinked, glancing up from packing away the vials, his hand lingering on the case as he stared at her with a look that was almost amused. “Didn’t ask?” he repeated, like the concept was foreign to him.

“I told you I was tired,” Araya said, her voice gaining strength. She raised her eyes to his. “But you ignored me?—”

“I didn’t ignore you.” His amusement slipped, replaced by a shadow of irritation. “I explained why this is so important?—”

“That’s not enough!” Araya snapped, her voice rising even as Jaxon’s smile disappeared entirely, his expression darkening. “You didn’t think about what I wanted—what I needed. You just took whatever you wanted.”

“You don’t speak to me like that.” Jaxon’s hand shot out, closing around her wrist with bruising force. “Ever.”

Araya flinched, wincing as she tried to pull away. “Jaxon—you’re hurting me.”

“I’m hurting you?” He laughed in her face. “Have you forgotten, Starling? You’re mine . And so is your blood and your magic. I don’t have to ask for what I already own.”

He wrenched her arm behind her back, slamming her onto the desk hard enough that her ears rang from the impact. She struggled, but pain lanced through her hips as he pinned her hard against the edge of the desk.

“This—this is nothing , Starling.” He leaned in, his breath hot on the back of her neck. “I could make this apartment your whole world. No more work. No more errands. No more distractions. Just you, me, and the child we both know you’ll give me growing inside you.”

Araya’s vision swam, tears falling freely as Jaxon pressed her into the unforgiving wood. His grip tightened, the bones in her wrist grinding together as he twisted her arm harder, making her shoulder scream.

“So what do you say, Starling?” Jaxon purred, his voice dripping with mockery and power. “Are you going to behave? Or do we need to call Kai to remove your ta’nara rune?” He chuckled softly. “You’d still be better off than any unbonded fae female. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? Safety?”

Araya yelped as Jaxon’s grip shifted, pinning her forearm to the desk beside her face. But her panic didn’t spike until he shifted her hand to expose the ly’ithra rune inked at the base of her thumb.

“Jaxon,” she started, her voice shaking as she tried to pull her arm away from him. But he only tightened his grip, pressing more of his weight onto her back until the room spun around her and she saw stars .

“Don’t fight me,” he warned. “I hate hurting you, Starling. Don’t make it worse.”

Araya’s tears spilled over, fear curdling into hopelessness as she realized there was no escape. She closed her eyes, her body trembling as she waited for the inevitable. Pain and terror twisted together in her mind, a whirlwind of agony that left her gasping for breath, yet a single, desperate thought clawed its way to the surface— survive .

Then Jaxon’s power surged into her like a thousand iron-tipped needles. Her vision blurred as her magic—already rising to meet him like a lover—recoiled at the violent assault, fleeing to some deep place inside of her. But Jaxon followed it—dragging it from her as she gasped in silent agony. The absence left her hollow, a puppet with its strings cut. She couldn’t even scream.

It was brutal. It was excruciating. It was relentless. And she could not stop him.

Araya’s scream lodged in her throat, only a choked sob escaping as her power fled her at his command. Her body trembled, each shuddering breath a battle against the darkness creeping at the edges of her vision. She was slipping, her strength draining away like sand through her fingers.

“You’re mine to use as I see fit, Starling,” he murmured in her ear. “Magic, mind, and body. That means if I want your magic, you will not fight me. If I want your blood, you’ll roll up your sleeve and offer your arm with a smile. And if I want to take you against the wall of that filthy cell where the heir to the fae throne can watch? You will spread your legs and show him exactly who you belong to.”

He released her, letting her collapse onto the floor behind his desk. With a monumental effort, she forced her eyes open, the room spinning around her. She tried to push herself up, but her arms gave out, and she collapsed back onto the floor, a pained whimper escaping her lips.

Jaxon clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Pathetic,” he muttered, before crouching down beside her. His hand gripped her chin, tilting her head up so she had no choice but to look at him. “Remember this feeling,” he said, his grip on her face hard and cruel. “You stand beside me because I allow it, Starling. But your place? That’s on the floor by my feet. Don’t forget again.”

Araya listened to his footsteps cross the room, flinching as he slammed the door and plunged the office into silence.