Kael caught up, gripping my arm. “Why do you always attack her?”
“You want to know why?” My voice trembled with rage. “She killed my mother. She framed me. She stole everything—my art, my name, and now you. And still, you defend her.”
He frowned, disbelief flickering. “You’re lying.”
I laughed. “Of course you’d think that.”
I tore my arm free. “Take your loyalty, Kael. I’m done fighting for scraps.”
That night, I saw their car leaving together. I should’ve ignored it. But I didn’t.
“Follow them,” I told the cab driver.
They stopped at the butterfly garden—Elowen’s fantasy playground, the place she said she’d want to be marked.
Through the window, I saw it all.
She rose on her toes, eyes glowing gold, and sank her teeth into Kael’s neck. Not playfully. Possessively. Claiming him.
And he let her.
He didn’t resist. He tilted his head, shivering as the bond sealed, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.
But she didn’t let him mark her back.
Instead, he touched the fresh wound, smeared the blood with his thumb, and smiled faintly.
“I’m yours,” he whispered.
Third Person’s POV