“And you’ve always mistaken emotion for weakness,” I fired back.
That hit.
I saw it.
A tiny crack in her perfect composure.
Menon watched the exchange silently, though I could physically feel the tension coiling through him now.
Protective rage.
The bond carried it clearly.
Not because I argued with my mother.
Because she hurt me.
The realization softened something painfully inside my chest.
No one had ever stood beside me like this before.
Not truly.
Not without eventually asking me to become smaller first.
But Menon?
Menon looked ready to tear apart entire realms simply because someone made me feel unwanted.
Dangerous.
Possibly unhealthy.
Extremely romantic.
“Madam Cordoza, you simply do not understand what Amrin is,” Menon said quietly then. “But I assure you, she is quite remarkable.”
The calm certainty in his voice cut through the tension instantly.
My mother looked toward him cautiously.
“And what exactly is my daughter?” she asked.
Menon’s arm wrapped fully around my waist.
“She is mine,” he answered simply.
Chapter 23-Amrin
The word pulsed inside of me like a live wire the minute he said it.
Mine.
Heat spread from our matebond, warming me to the depths of my soul and I knew then I would do anything for him.
Anything at all—because he is mine and I am his.
And nothing my mother could say would change that.
