The Cold Alpha's Mate...But why does he keep calling me 'Mine'?

isoned

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ation, pressing me six feet under. Tonight wasn't the beginning; it was the suffocating climax of a performance I'd endured since the courtiers fi

Majestic? Imposing? It felt like the inside of a gaping wound, raw and bleeding, while I sat dressed in its fi

of power. The air itself was a battlefield: roasted venison and duck fat clashing with cloying jasmine, rose, and patchouli, masking the de

Naïve. My hand tucked into Zevran Caelthorn's

was gon

orced, hollow thing. Zevran's answering smile was a razor – beautiful, cruel. Familiar. I used to crave it. I'd tho

queens. They do

chill. The bed was a chasm. I'd forgotten the sound of his true laughter, the kind that didn't

the se

goblet before me. His eyes flicked up. Not a glance. A despera

at. Firelight flickered as if chilled by an unseen gust. The air th

is

ty was ice

eens don't show fear. Not e

wine shimmered, dark as

ed coins. Oily, clinging to my tong

wisting through my veins. Vision blurred. The violins warped into discordant shrieks, drowned by o

y way. Why would he? I was stone on a

d. Legs trembled beneath heavy ski

Still,

then a terrifying drag. Still, head h

ot love. That ghost had died months ago, cho

t clamped shut

Hot. Silen

– I

e arterial spray across pale stone. Gasps ripped through

la

s burning inward. Pain flared in my hip. Cold invaded my fin

aw

n. St

ting for healers. Not

es met

een collapse and chaos – I searched his

etached. Like observing a cracked go

of pine and ash as someone knelt. Movement blurred – guards, healer's robes, Lady Alira's dram

ve. Couldn't

red, slowed. The rebe

inly veiled. I saw their minds churning. Que

ace. The chilling stilln

meetings where I was 'Colleague,' not wife. The echoing emptiness of our chambers. I loved the ghost of th

nce, obedience. Became the perfect queen, th

ant n

Loyalty. Power that bent and did

-wine scent filled my nose. Clarit

wasn't an

wn never held

was the c

danced. My lungs were infernos. Each

eartbeat and the next,

he pla

ulsed. Iron fl

ss mask. Mourning the laughing girl in the mirror with every unshed tear, ev

Hands: limp. E

fading, cold seeping into bone, I grasped

his

ife, I won't

h

th