Chapter 5

SERAPHINA

Dread coiled in my bones like serpents as our carriage rolled into the courtyard of the Nightshade Court’s palace. Instead of the warm golden stone of home, this fortress rose from obsidian and shadow, its walls seeming to swallow light itself. The spiralling towers clawed at the sky like talons, their pointed ebony roofs and deep purple banners ominous as they danced in the chill wind.

Dark-robed servants approached like wraiths given form, each step they took toward us tightening the knot of fear in my throat. My lungs felt compressed, as if the very air had turned to stone.

The servants opened our door. Lysander stepped out first without sparing me a glance, then continued walking as if I didn’t exist. I might have bristled if terror hadn’t frozen my blood.

“Lysander,” a sharp voice commanded from the neighbouring carriage. I peered through the window.

King Malachar already stood outside, his imposing frame helping an elegant female step down. The woman, who I recognised as Lysander’s mother, fixed her son with a withering glare. She gestured toward me with clear expectation. I blinked in understanding. Lysander froze, every muscle in his powerful back going taut. He cast a pleading look toward his father. King Malachar’s expression remained implacable.

Clenching his fists, Lysander returned to my side.

What is he—?

He extended his hand, and realisation struck me like lightning. He was meant to assist me from the carriage, as his father had aided his mother. A gentlemanly gesture, if not for the scowl twisting his beautiful features. My inner wolf lowered her head with a wounded whimper. She felt the sting of his rejection.

That knowledge alone ignited my pride. I stepped down from the carriage and deliberately slapped his hand away. I would manage perfectly well on my own, thank you.

Lysander’s eyes widened at my bold refusal. He slowly lowered his hand, his glare darkening like storm clouds.

Someone cleared their throat pointedly. I turned to find Lysander’s siblings gathered in the courtyard with their parents. His sister seemed to offer me a sympathetic look, while the younger male’s shoulders shook with barely contained laughter. I fixed him with a golden glare. It only encouraged his mirth. I believed his name was Kieran… King Malachar shot a quelling look over his shoulder, and Kieran immediately sobered.

Turning back to me and Lysander, the king said, “Welcome to our realm, Princess Seraphina Night-claw.”

I swept into a deep curtsy befitting royal protocol. “My gratitude for your hospitality, Your Majesty.” Rising, I saw approval flicker in his dark eyes, while the queen’s sharp features softened marginally.

“Lysander,” Queen Ravenna Shadowmere instructed her son, “escort the princess through our halls. If she is to call this place home, she must know its secrets.”

My smile remained fixed, though my wolf howled in protest within.

I cannot endure another moment confined with him. I had already survived an entire day trapped in that carriage!

By the subtle muscle tics at his temple, I could tell Lysander shared my reluctance. Yet, his mother’s imperious expression brooked no argument.

Casting me the briefest glance, Lysander said, “Follow me, Princess.” Then he turned and strode toward the towering palace doors.

I took several steps forward before doubt crept through my resolve like poison. I cast an uncertain look over my shoulder. Queen Ravenna nodded encouragingly.

“Prince Lysander will ensure your safety, Princess Seraphina,” King Malachar assured me.

If only you knew the truth…

My chest rose and fell as I drew a fortifying breath and resumed following the prince. I entered the palace and gasped at its dark magnificence. Crystal chandeliers cast prismatic rainbows along the great corridor’s length. A deep crimson carpet flowed across the polished marble floors. Guards in midnight armour stood at attention, offering crisp salutes as we passed.

Lysander acknowledged them with a slight nod. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Beyond this corridor lies the throne room.” He led me through towering doors into a chamber that stole my breath.

A magnificent chandelier bathed the room in silver radiance. Twin thrones dominated the far end, one slightly larger than its mate—the king’s seat. Both appeared crafted from pure platinum, adorned with diamond accents and rich violet cushioning. The throne room stood empty.

I looked at Lysander. “Where is your court?”

He shot me a look of mild incredulity. “Still traveling from the Crimson Moon lands. Some have chosen to rest at roadside inns tonight. But as royalty, we must return immediately to the palace.”

Heat flooded my cheeks in embarrassment.

Of course. How foolish I must sound.

He spun on his heel and glided down another corridor. He showed me through the vast library and grand ballroom with efficient brevity. Then he led me up an opulent staircase, indicating several private chambers where important guests and ambassadors resided in the palace’s west wing.

“Allow me to show you the night gardens,” Lysander said, heading for the stairs.

I nearly had to run to match his long strides, my shorter legs struggling to keep pace.

He descended the stairs, while I gathered my skirts and hurried after him. “Please wait—” A sharp yelp escaped my throat as my foot caught in the fabric.

I pitched forward toward the unforgiving stone steps. Gasping, I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to right myself in time to prevent disaster.

Strong arms encircled my waist, halting my fall. The air rushed from my lungs. In the next heartbeat, I was pulled back against a solid chest. My eyes flew open to find Lysander standing behind me, his otherworldly warmth seeping through my gown and igniting the fire in my belly to blazing intensity. My breath came in short pants, though I hadn’t exerted myself. I tilted my head back to meet his gaze.

His head dipped down, our eyes colliding like stars meeting void. Dark strands of his hair fell around us like a curtain of midnight, creating an intimate cocoon that shut out the world. Lysander’s nostrils flared as he caught my intoxicating scent. His grip tightened, long fingers pressing into the soft curves of my hips. My inner wolf nearly purred with pleasure, her tail wagging as she stretched beneath my skin. Acting on pure instinct, I pressed back against him, my bottom grinding against his hardening length.

Lysander released a ragged hiss of desire. I could feel him growing rigid against me.

My eyes widened in shock and fascination.

By the goddess… he cannot possibly be that magnificently endowed…

Lysander lowered his head until his warm breath caressed my cheekbones like a lover’s whisper. His lips hovered a whisper from mine. My mouth watered with desperate need—to taste those firm lips, to drink in his essence, to lose myself in his darkness.

My hips rolled against him again. A guttural groan tore from his throat. I bit down hard to stifle the whimper rising in mine. Stars above, it felt divine.

His tongue darted out to taste the delicate hollow of my throat, and the wet heat against my sensitive skin nearly shattered my control completely. I wanted to fall over that precipice and into his waiting arms.

Then Lysander went rigid. Every muscle in his powerful body locked like bands of iron. I knew in that instant he had returned to harsh reality—torn away from our moment of passion by the knowledge of what we represented. Ancient enemies. It mattered not that our parents had arranged this union. Centuries of hatred could not be erased in a single day. My inner wolf sat back on her haunches, ears flattened in dejection.

Lips twisting with something resembling regret, I straightened and slipped from his embrace. He allowed his arms to fall to his sides. I steadied myself on the step, refusing to meet his gaze as heat burned my cheeks and ears.

“I…” I cleared my throat softly. “Thank you for catching me.” I caught a lock of my silver-streaked hair, twirling it nervously around my finger.

Silence stretched between us like a chasm. Pain lanced through my chest. He still refused to speak to me, even after sharing such an intimate moment. I swallowed back the tears threatening to spill.

Why does his rejection wound me so deeply? It’s not as if I harbor feelings for this shadow prince.