Without turning, I spoke. "If you've come to tell me he's dead, speak. If not, you've wasted your last breath."
The informant hesitated.
"Speak," I growled.
"There... there was a bond, Your Highness," the man said. "With the Roan boy. She saved him. Fed him her blood. He's alive."
Silence.
Not a sound.
Then—my hand curled into a fist, the veins along my pale wrist bulging.
"A bond," I whispered. A laugh escaped me — breathy, high, broken at the edges. "Shebondedto thatwhelp? That pathetic mortal?"
I stood suddenly, robes slipping off my shoulders, revealing a torso covered in runes and scars. My breath grew heavy, almost... euphoric.
"She thinks this matters," I murmured, eyes distant, unfocused. "Thinks this will protect him. Oh, my darling Sera... always so stubborn. So naïve."
"Oh, she will cry again," I muttered, stroking my temple like a man praying. "She willscreamfor me when that boy dies screaming. And then, finally, she'll see. Finally, she'll come back."
His lips parted. A single moan slipped out.
He gripped the armrest of his throne hard enough to crack it, his body tense with something between rage and ecstasy.
"I want to watch her break," I breathed. "I want tofeelit."
She chose him.
She chose him over centuries of history. Over the throne I offered. Over the empire I promised.
I stared at the flames in the hearth as if they owed me an explanation. They danced like her hair in sunlight. Untouchable. Rebellious. Beautiful in the way fire is beautiful — impossible to hold without bleeding.
She should've bled for me.
She will.
Cassian. That mortal wretch. That name should have been ash on my tongue, but it burned hotter than any sun.
I imagined him still pale from death, weak and disoriented in some hospital bed, and yet she sat beside him like he was something precious. Like I hadn't waitedcenturiesfor the look she gave him.
And still... she never cried for me.
Not once.
But shewould.
I closed my eyes.
I pictured her — broken. On her knees. The scent of smoke and blood in the air. Tears streaking down her perfect, ageless face. Her voice raw with grief, whispering my name not out of love... butneed. Out of desperation.
A trembling hand reaching for me when the boy she bonded with dies.
I exhaled through clenched teeth, a low growl tearing through my throat.
Let him feel her.
Let him loveher.
Let the bond sink deep.
Because when I rip it out — when I end him — she will shatter.
And then, she will belong to me.
My eyes snapped open — colder than moonlight on fresh blood.
I'll be back my love, just you see....