Chapter 1
I am not yours, and you are not mine.
The voice forced its way into the cracks of her mind with desperation.
The feeling of smooth, cool skin brushed against her cheek in the darkness. His voice continued, low and filled with something between a promise and a threat.
And yet, I want you all the same.
She inhaled sharply as Magic slipped down her spine. That same desperate, seeking feeling trying to take root.
Another voice, entirely different, one she could name, entered her mind.
“Maeve.”
Alphard Mavros’ voice cut through her mind, yanking her eyes open, leaving the prickling skin on her cheek feeling bare. Her eyes settled on the teacup before her, steam swirling above the amber liquid.
“Maeve,” Alphard said again, his voice unbothered and absent.
She looked up at last, the entire breakfast room coming into focus. Maxius sat next to her, eating his food with careful precision. Alphard looked through their mail, setting aside the newspaper.
“Have you taken your potion today?” he asked, flipping through the various envelopes.
Maeve didn’t answer. Her hand moved to her cheek, where the Magic she’d felt slowly faded at her touch. At last, Alphard’s eyes landed on her.
He slid a vial of pale liquid across the breakfast table. “Drink.”
Maeve took it without argument, realizing she couldn’t remember how long she’d been taking them. A side effect of the “episodes,” Astrea would remind her.
Rebelliously, Maeve left some at the bottom of the bottle, bitter she needed Astrea to make her potions at all. Her fingers slipped into her pocket, brushing against a small strip of blank parchment. Something that unexplainedly grounded her on days when her mind felt far from her own.
Her mind settled, and the voice she’d heard felt like a fast-fading dream she could hardly even recall.
“A royal invitation,” said Alphard, tossing a glowing square of parchment on the table.
“A royal invitation, where?” asked Maeve with a groan, already knowing the answer.
“Castle Morana,” answered Alphard.
Maeve frowned. “I hate going there,” she muttered.
“I know,” said Alphard.
“You can just go without me,” she replied.
“Doubtful,” said Alphard as he looked up at her and slid the parchment across the breakfast table towards her.
Beneath the swirling and performative invitation to a ball at Castle Morana was Abraxas’ elegant stamped seal. Beneath that was a brief note.
Non-negotiable, cousin.
Brax
“He really does know everything,” said Alphard as he stood.
Alphard’s fingers twisted gently through Maxius’ hair in the seat next to him. Maxius barely noticed; he was fixated on Spinel pawing relentlessly at the window. Ice edged on the large panes as endless snow fell in the bitter cold. It had been winter for as long as Maeve could remember. Never-ending ice and snow covered everything from the Greywood to the Dark Peaks.
“How are things?” asked Maeve, before Alphard could leave.
