I glance back at Zara, who hasn’t said a word but is watching the exchange with narrowed eyes and a tilted chin that screams defiance. She’s still holding her own in the face of my brothers’ fury, and something about that makes my chest tighten with pride. I want her with me, not against me, and I want her to share her power with me willingly. I don’t want to force her or steal it from her, and the dread of knowing I want her to give me this freely sweeps through me.
“She’s powerful.” My voice drops to a chilling whisper, cold enough to pierce the suffocating heat as I try to manipulate my brothers. “I can harness her power. Control it. Make it mine and use it to do my bidding. She’s mine now, and I will protect her.”
“Protect her?” Galen’s laugh is sharp, biting. “You sound like you’ve already lost. She’s a fucking witch, Kade. She’s dangerous.”
“She’s a fucking dangerous weapon,” Darius cuts in, his voice harsher now. “She’s a liability. A threat, Kade.”
Zara’s heart races, the rapid thrum echoing through our bond like a warning bell. I feel her uncertainty, the flicker offear she’s too stubborn to show. It tightens something in my chest, pulling at the thread tethering us together. But when I meet her gaze, there’s no submission in her eyes. There’s only fire and steel. She’s unsure of me, but she’s not weak, and she won’t give herself away.
“She’s more than a weapon,” I snap, turning back to Darius and Galen. “She’s the key to destroying everything that stands in our way. I’ll protect her, break her if I have to—but I won’t let her go. Not now. Not ever.”
Zara shifts behind me, her breathing steadying as her resolve hardens. I don’t need to turn around to know her expression is set, her defiance sharpening to match my own. She seems to have guessed the game I’m playing and she’s following my lead, treading carefully as I mix lies with truths as I try to calm my brothers.
“You don’t understand,” I say, glancing back at Zara again.
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the room falls away. There’s something between us, something raw and unspoken, and it’s stronger than any bond I’ve ever known.
“She’s mine.”
“Yours?” Galen sneers. “You think you can tame her? Control her?”
I turn back to him, my jaw tightening. “I don’t think. I know.”
The room is silent for a moment, the tension so thick it’s almost suffocating. Finally, Galen exhales sharply, his frustration barely held in check.
“Just think how powerful we’ll be when we channel her magic,” I add. “You wanted heirs, Galen. She’ll give me powerful ones. She’ll ensure our dynasty lasts. When she’s ready. She’ll make the perfect wife.”
For a moment, the room is deathly quiet.
“You’re marrying her?” Darius asks.
I nod. “She’s too powerful to let slip through my fingers. She’s mine now, and I won’t give her up. I want her power and she’ll adapt. I’ll make sure she knows her place and stays there.”
The tension crackles like a storm about to break, but after a long, heavy silence, Galen exhales sharply and takes a step back. I close my eyes a moment longer than necessary, hoping Zara realizes I’m using Galen’s thirst for power against him, and saying whatever it takes to get him on side and that she won’t hold it against me later.
Galen’s jaw tightens, the flicker of his power dimming but not entirely retreating.
“You’re out of your fucking mind, Kade,” he snaps. “You think putting a ring on her finger makes her any less of a threat? She’ll turn on you the first chance she gets.”
Darius crosses his arms, his icy glare unwavering. “You’ve done reckless things before, but this?” He gestures toward Zara, the disgust in his voice barely concealed. “This is suicidal. Marrying a witch doesn’t make her ours. It makes her your problem.”
“She’s not a problem,” I bite out, my tone sharp enough to cut. “She’s a solution. A fucking good one, too.”
Galen’s sneer deepens, a cold glint of contempt in his eyes, but he doesn’t speak. He just stares at Zara as if trying to strip her apart with sheer will. His gaze is a toxic blend of scrutiny and disdain, scanning her as if trying to find a weakness, a flaw, or anything he can exploit. The intensity of his stare makes the room feel suffocating, like a threat waiting to materialize.
“And you’ve agreed to this?” Galen snarls at Zara, his voice a venomous hiss.
She lifts her chin, her gaze meeting his with a couragethat seems too fierce to belong in this room. She nods once, a brief, resolute gesture that carries an undercurrent of determination and survival laced with a tinge of rebellion.
“Why?” he asks.
“It’s better than being dead.”
Her eyebrow arches, another spark of defiance that’s rare and startling. Her words hang in the air like a challenge, a statement of survival that cuts deeper than any insult. She’s not just defending herself; she’s claiming her place in this game, asserting that she’s playing on her own terms now, not Galen’s.
“Better to fight with you and survive than lie down and let you fuckers beat me.”
Galen sighs, his frustration evident. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice clipped. “But if she steps out of line—if she so much as breathes in the wrong direction—I’ll be the one to end it. And I won’t hesitate.”
