“Ow, fuck—” I jerked away from the comb that was apparently trying to scalp me.
“Language!” The head maiden—Beatrice, I think—grabbed my chin like I was a toddler having a tantrum. “And sit still. You’re meeting royalty, not going to market.”
“Could’ve fooled me. This feels like livestock prep.” I winced as she dragged the comb through another tangle. “Are you trying to make me bald? Because that’s not exactly the seductive look we’re going for here.”
“Beauty requires sacrifice,” she sniffed, practically ripping out half my scalp with the next stroke.
“Yeah? Well, so does murder, apparently.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
The other maidens went dead quiet. Beatrice’s comb froze mid-stroke.
“What did you say?” she whispered.
“Nothing. Just… appreciating the irony of the situation.”
Twenty minutes later, I was staring at a stranger in the mirror. Silver silk that probably cost more than my entire previous wardrobe, skin scrubbed raw and oiled until I looked like some kind of expensive sacrifice. Which, let’s be honest, was exactly what I was.
“You look…” Beatrice trailed off, studying me like a painting she wasn’t sure was finished.
“Terrified? Because that’s what I’m going for.”
“Beautiful,” she said quietly. “He’ll—”
“He’ll what? Fall madly in love and forget he’s supposedly a psychotic killer?” I laughed, but it came out bitter. “Right. That’s definitely how this ends.”
The door opened before she could answer.
Valen walked in like he owned the place—which, technically, he did—black cloak and that smug-ass smile that made me want to punch things.
“Ladies,” he said, dismissing them with a wave. They scattered like roaches when the lights come on.
I stayed put, mostly because my legs felt like jelly.
“Well, well.” He circled me slowly, like a shark evaluating dinner. “Don’t you clean up nice.”
“Thanks. I feel like a decorated corpse.”
“Perfect. That’s exactly the vibe we want.” He stopped in front of me, pulling something from his coat. A small glass vial that caught the candlelight. “Hold still.”
“What are you—”
“I said hold still.” His voice went cold as he tucked the vial beneath the ribbon at my waist, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. “Remember what this is for.”
“Kind of hard to forget the whole ‘commit murder’ part of the plan.”
“Good girl.” His smile was poison. “He’ll never suspect a trembling little Omega.”
I met his eyes in the mirror. “I hope he tears your throat out.”
“If he does,” Valen said, adjusting the ribbon so the vial was completely hidden, “I’ll make sure you die screaming right beside him.”
“Charming. Really setting the mood for romance here.”
But my hands were shaking, and we both knew it wasn’t from anger.
The courtyard might as well have been a funeral. Everyone lined up like mourners, all black clothes and grim faces. The Elders looked like they were about to watch an execution. Which, again, was basically what this was.
“Breathe,” I muttered to myself, walking on feet that didn’t feel like mine. “Just breathe and try not to vomit on the psycho Alpha.”
The whispers started before I even made it halfway across the stones.
“Is that her?”
“The Omega they’re sacrificing?”
“Poor thing. She has no idea what’s coming.”
Yeah, well. Jokes on them. I had several ideas about what was coming, and none of them involved me dying quietly.
Then the air changed.
Not a sound. Not even a scent. Just this feeling like the world had tilted sideways and forgotten to mention it. Like something massive and dangerous had just stepped into the same space as the rest of us mere mortals.
I looked up.
And immediately wished I hadn’t.
Cassian Vale looked like he’d stepped out of a nightmare and decided to make it everyone else’s problem. Tall enough to make me feel like a child, dressed in black that seemed to absorb light. His coat swept the ground behind him like he was cosplaying Death, and his gloves were cracked leather that had seen things.
But his eyes. Jesus Christ, his eyes.
Storm-grey and wild, like they’d seen the end of the world and taken notes. Scars cut jagged lines across his throat and jaw—not the kind that healed clean, but the kind someone had put there with purpose and hate.
I dropped my gaze so fast I probably gave myself whiplash.
The crowd was losing their collective shit in whispers.
“That’s him.”
“The cursed one.”
“Killed his own mate in a rage.”
Valen stepped forward, all swagger and false confidence.
“Welcome, Prince Cassian,” he announced like he was presenting a prize pig. “This is Lucy. She’ll serve you… fully.”
The way he said ‘fully’ made my skin crawl.
Cassian didn’t respond immediately. He just stared — and gods, I felt it. Like heat flaring across my skin, his gaze moved slowly, deliberately, over me. I could practically taste it, the weight of him watching. It was fire and ice all at once, setting my nerves alight, making it impossible to pretend I wasn’t trembling. Not from fear. Not entirely.
My breath caught. Why does it feel like he’s touching me when he hasn’t moved an inch?
Something twisted low in my stomach. Need? No — hunger. His or mine, I couldn’t tell. The space between us crackled, charged, as if the very air knew what he wasn’t saying.
“She’s afraid,” he said slowly, as if savoring the words. “But there’s another scent clinging to her. Something hot. Tempting.”
I stopped breathing entirely.
The Elders shuffled nervously. Even they didn’t know how to respond to whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.
“She’s yours,” Valen said, still smiling that shark smile. “For as long as you want her.”
Cassian moved forward.
The entire courtyard held its breath.
He stepped into my personal space like the concept of boundaries was a foreign language, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers were rough, calloused, but not cruel. Not yet.
“You’ll serve me?” he asked, voice low enough that only I could hear it.
My throat felt like sandpaper. “Yes.”
He turned to Valen with the kind of casual indifference you’d use to discuss the weather. “I want her moved to my quarters. Tonight.”
Valen blinked. “Already? She hasn’t even—”
“She’s mine now.” Cassian’s voice cut through the objection like a blade. “Isn’t that what you offered?”
