Page 46

46

SEREN

A whisper of silk brushes against my skin, an unnatural softness that does not belong. My body is sluggish, heavy, and when my fingers twitch against the sheets, chains rattle.

Cold steel bites into my wrists, shackles thin but unyielding. My ankles are bound too, the links stretching just enough for movement, it’s enough to remind me I am not free.

Memory crashes back in a rush of breath, Jalith. The cliff. The collar.

I jerk upright. The room spins, a whirlwind of deep reds and obsidian, gold accents gleaming in the soft glow of wall sconces. Not a dungeon.

A bedroom.

Lavish. Expansive.

A prison wrapped in luxury.

The air is thick with incense, a scent that clings to my throat, suffocating. The sheets beneath me are silk, dyed a deep, decadent crimson. A vanity stands against the wall, its mirror framed in ornate silver. Dresses in dark blues and blacks, not my colors, never my choice, are draped over chairs, waiting.

A queen’s chamber. A mate’s chamber.

My stomach lurches.

I fling the covers off, chains rattling as I stagger out of bed. My legs nearly buckle. Magic coils through my limbs, sinking into my bones, pressing down with invisible weight.

I snarl at it, at the collar locked tight against my throat. A spellwoven leash.

A slow clap echoes from the doorway.

Jalith.

He lounges against the doorframe, exuding effortless arrogance. His robes are draped lazily over one shoulder, exposing the sculpted lines of his chest. His silver hair is immaculate, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.

Predator and prey.

"You're awake," he drawls. "I was beginning to worry."

I lunge.

The collar ignites.

A shock sears through me, white-hot agony. My knees give out before I can reach him. I crash to the floor, a cry tearing from my throat. My muscles convulse, locking, shaking, betraying me.

Jalith watches. Savors.

The pain fades, leaving me gasping.

He crouches before me, his fingers brushing my chin, tilting my face up. "You’ll learn, little one," he murmurs. "Your body already remembers."

I snap my teeth at him.

He laughs. Genuinely amused.

The chuckle slithers over my skin, setting every nerve on edge.

"You will make such a beautiful queen," he muses, brushing a strand of hair from my damp forehead. "Once you stop fighting me."

My breath heaves against my ribs, rage rising like a tide.

I spit at him.

It lands on his cheek, glistening against his smooth, porcelain skin.

Jalith stills.

His fingers tighten, his nails digging in, sharp enough to prick.

He smiles. Slow. Icy.

With eerie patience, he reaches into his robes and pulls out something small.

A ring.

My ring.

The artifact that had shielded me from his magic.

A thin, glimmering piece of hope.

His fingers roll it over his knuckles, examining it as if it were something trivial. A worthless trinket.

Cold dread seeps into my stomach.

"It’s been quite the nuisance," he murmurs. "I couldn’t reach you fully. Couldn’t bind you properly." His gaze flicks back to me. "But that changes now."

I lurch toward him again but I was too late.

Jalith snaps the ring between his fingers.

The metal shatters.

A violent pulse of magic erupts through the room, a shockwave rippling over my skin.

Then nothing.

I can feel the absence. A void where a shield once was.

Jalith watches me drink in the horror of it, his smirk widening.

"There," he hums, dusting his hands. "No more interference. No more barriers."

My nails dig into my palms, desperation twisting into fury.

I rip a nearby tray off the vanity, sending plates, goblets, and fruit crashing against the walls. A vase follows, shattering into a thousand shards.

He doesn’t flinch.

I hurl a candelabra.

Jalith catches it midair, unimpressed, then tosses it aside like garbage.

His patience, the unshakable calm makes me want to scream.

I lash out again, charging toward him, but the magic is too strong. The collar tightens, dragging me back down, pinning me to my knees.

Jalith approaches slowly, crouching before me once more, his breath warm against my temple.

"Three days, Seren," he murmurs, voice a silken thread of menace.

I barely hear him over the blood pounding in my ears.

"Three days until the ceremony. Until I bind you to me, fully. Irrevocably."

His fingers trace the collar’s edge, pressing lightly.

"By then, you will kneel because you choose to."

A laugh curls from his lips, rich with certainty.

"You will come to love me for it."