He played into my weakness—into my trust. He fought at my side, pretending to protect me and my friends. Did I ever know him at all, or has this simply all been part of Wilder’s game?
I was warned against trusting him, and I didn’t listen.
“I didn’t know.” I shake my head. “You didn’t tell me. I thought the rituals could only take place in the Rite. I didn’t even know that offering him my blood was a form of me choosing him.” I look at Wilder. “I don’t choose you.”
It feels like a lie, no matter how angry I am right now. And it severs nothing. This bond burns stronger with every passing moment. There is no longer any tie to King Malachi. It’s only him.
“I refuse to help you destroy this kingdom. You won’t use my magic to destroy my home.”
His head tilts as he assesses me, his expression devoid of emotion. He’s not the male I shared last night with; he’s the Fae from the prison. Ruthless, like the queen of Vaelier trained him to be.
King Malachi laughs again, while Selia and Hazel look ready to unleash the After on Wilder for what he’s done. Nothing about this is amusing, so I can’t figure out why King Malachi continues to grin.
“It’s a brilliant plan, really.” The king straightens his crown, pressing his shoulders back. “You couldn’t steal her magic, so you stole her heart. It was a valiant effort on your part, King Riven. Although, the human girl struck me as a little too plain for blood sharing. I suppose it is always the quiet ones who surprise us.”
His dark eyes meet mine, and my fists clench.
“The promise. The blood. I understand how you got her to offer you her heart, but what of her soul? The only way for the soul bind to form outside the Rite is for her to offer her everlife to you.”
“I didn’t.” I step forward. “I never offered it.”
King Malachi’s eyes narrow, considering what I’ve said. “She doesn’t realize she did. Which means there’s something else. Something…” His dark smile falls, and his eyes dart between us. “Ah, I see. You’ve been keeping secrets.”
I have no idea what King Malachi is referring to as he looks between us.
My gaze moves to Wilder, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. “What secrets?”
“Aurora is not his mate,” the king answers for him. “You are. Your souls are already eternally bound.”
“But humans don’t have mates.”
“You’re half-Fae. Just enough, apparently.” Malachi’s eyes narrow.
I take a step back, nearly tumbling off the edge of the altar, but something stops me. A magical wall catches me, holding me in place.
I’m Wilder’s mate.
I can’t be.
Except, I feel it, beyond the soul bind. Beyond the ritual. I feel the connection that’s been there since the first time I stepped into his cell.
No—longer.
Since I first called for him on Alyssium, and he answered.
What snapped into place last night wasn’t pleasure. It was the mating bond. An unbreakable tie binding us together.
My eyes find Wilder’s, and I search his plain expression. A mask covering his lies. He wanted King Malachi to believe Aurora was his mate, not because of the war, but because of me. If the king suspected what we were to each other, he’d suspect Wilder’s plan to steal the soul bind.
“How long have you known?”I ask Wilder in my mind. Through this wide-open connection between us.
“Since the first time I heard you in my head.”
“At the prison.”My mind races.“From the beginning.”
He said it then; I just didn’t understand it at the time.
When the Fae chased me into the prison, he told them,“She isn’t yours.”
