The air crackled like static electricity against Natalia's skin, her heart hammering against her ribs as the unmistakable presence of a powerful fae saturated the room.
Her lungs constricted, each breath shallow and painful. Astaroth? The Chancellor? Her mind raced with terrifying possibilities.
The door didn't just open—it flew inward with such force that Natalia flinched. Before she could react, she was crushed against a body hard as marble, thin arms clamping around her with inhuman strength that threatened to snap her spine.
When finally released, she staggered backward, gasping, only to be transfixed by eyes like burning magenta flames boring into her soul, set in a face of deep olive skin framed by hair as black as a starless night.
Those eyes send a wave of cold connection down her spine. So similar to the Chancellors, the way they dissected her layer by layer, burning with an animosity that made Natalia's breath catch in her throat.
"For once, the rumors might hold a grain of truth. Your beauty has the potential to eclipse even the most radiant Celestrial." Silvius's fingers dug into Natalia's shoulders like talons seeking bone, her pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the magenta flame.
"I wonder, are you perhaps one of them, hiding your true nature?" The words slithered between them as Silvius's grip crushed harder, bones grinding beneath her inhuman strength.
White-hot agony exploded through Natalia's shoulders and down her arms, her vision sparking with black stars. A scream tore from her throat before she could cage it.
Natalia's mind fractured. Celestrial. The word detonated through her like a forgotten incantation, searing her veins from within, scorching through her consciousness. Not alien—forbidden.
It thundered in the marrow of her bones, threatening to split them open.
Her jaw unhinged to protest that she was human, worthless, fragile, nothing—the lie every Shadreal had spat at her since her arrival.
Yet, if she was merely human, why did that magenta gaze ignite a whisper inside her? Why did her blood hum, caressing her when the word shattered the air between them?
"RELEASE HER NOW." Astaroth's command exploded against the stone walls, cracking the mortar. The reminder of her humanity slammed her back into her aching body.
Silvius's lips curled upward at one corner. She unfurled her wings with a snap that sent dust motes dancing in the air—orange and black feathers catching the light like embers. Her grip on Natalia's shoulders loosened one finger at a time, but her magenta eyes remained fixed, unblinking.
She stalked a slow circle around Natalia, each footfall silent despite the stone floor. The hair on Natalia's arms stood on end as something electric trailed in Silvius's wake.
"You've always had a fondness for pretty things, little brother." Silvius's fingertip traced the curve of Natalia's cheekbone, leaving a trail of pins and needles in its wake. "Mother gives you such charming pets while I get nothing." Her breath smelled of cinnamon and smoke. "Perhaps I should ask for this one myself."
Natalia's skin burned where Silvius had touched her. She pivoted toward Astaroth before she could stop herself.
"Mother?" The word escaped before she could stop it, hanging between them like a blade.
The Chancellor—their mother. Power and blood intertwined. Part of Natalia wanted to collapse with despair; family loyalty would surely trump whatever tenuous value she held.
Yet something flickered in Silvius's eyes—a flash of resentment?—that made her wonder if the Chancellor's maternal bond was as unbreakable as she feared.
She glanced at Astaroth, searching his face for confirmation, torn between the urge to run and the desperate hope that this revelation might somehow work in her favor.
Every small piece of information might save her—or damn her further. Natalia's mind raced between survival instinct and paralyzing doubt.
Watch the body language, she thought, then immediately questioned whether she was reading anything correctly in this alien world.
Observe, but what if she was seeing only what they wanted her to see?
Astaroth lounged in his chair like a predator at rest, fingers splayed across an ancient tome, eyes glittering with cold calculation as he watched the confrontation. The air between the siblings crackled with unspoken power.
"The Chancellor knows everything about your pathetic past," he said, each word dropping like ice into still water. "What do you want, Silvius? Truly want?" His voice cut through the room, slicing away pretense.
"You've been hiding her, Astie," Silvius hissed, her voice honey-laced venom. She stalked closer to Natalia, nostrils flaring as if scenting prey. "I had to see if she's worth the whispers that have reached even the Outer Courts."
Her wings snapped open suddenly, casting the room into shadow. "Secrets like this could resurrect blood feuds we've spent centuries burying." With a violent gesture that sent a gust of wind howling through the chamber, she drew herself to her full height.
"High Fae Silvius Caelrith of Grymwood," she announced, the words burning into the air like brands.
Natalia's skin prickled as Silvius's presence saturated the air around her—cinnamon and smoke, terror and fascination. She wanted to flee and draw closer in the same heartbeat.
The Fae before her was both nightmare and dream, her wings like something torn from the bedtime stories Natalia's grandmother whispered on stormy nights.
Part of her longed to touch those feathers, to confirm their reality, while another part remembered the crushing grip of those fingers that had nearly shattered her bones moments before.
Her mind rebelled against itself: was this creature her potential ally or executioner? The question left her frozen between instincts, unable to retreat or advance.
"Like what you see?" Silvius's voice sliced through the air, her words dripping with venom beneath their honeyed surface.
Her lips curled into a predatory smile that froze Natalia's blood. The question struck like a physical blow, sending crimson heat surging up Natalia's neck and flooding her face. Her treacherous eyes had betrayed her, lingering on those hypnotic wings.
"As lovely as you are," Silvius purred, leaning close enough that her breath scorched Natalia's skin, "I devour mortals, not bed them." Her eyes flicked to Astaroth, gleaming with malicious delight.
Turning sharply, Natalia found Astaroth sprawled in his chair like a predator at rest. His violet eyes caught hers, and something electric jolted through her body—revulsion mingled with a heat she refused to name.
She crossed her arms over the new outfit they'd forced on her, detesting how the fabric clung to her skin, detesting more how his gaze traced the movement. Her fingers dug into her own flesh, steadying herself.
"He is my nightmare," she thought, but when he shifted and firelight caught the curve of his jaw, her breath hitched traitorously. The animosity she'd been nurturing flickered, revealing something underneath that terrified her more than he ever could.
"What's happening to me?" she wondered, despising her weakness even as she fought the urge to step closer.
One corner of Astaroth's mouth lifted, revealing the edge of a canine tooth. His eyes flicked to his sister, all traces of amusement vanishing.
"Silvi, you've seen her." He turned a page with a deliberate finger. "Now leave." The leather-bound tome creaked as he leaned closer to it, dismissing them both.
Silvius whipped around, her wings slicing the air with a crack that made Natalia flinch. "You need me," she hissed, leaning close to Natalia's nostrils.
"Without allies, you'll be devoured alive in this court." Her smile sent a chill down Natalia's spine. "So tell me your name, mortal, before someone less accommodating asks."
She thrust out her hand—fingers elongating slightly, nails darkening to obsidian points—an offering that pulsed with dangerous possibility.
Natalia's hand twitched forward before she yanked it back. Her throat constricted as she stared at those obsidian nails.
The word "allies" echoed in her mind—wasn't that what she desperately needed? Her gaze darted to Astaroth, who watched with calculated indifference, then back to Silvius's extended hand.
The same fingers that had nearly crushed her bones now offered... what? Protection? Deception? Both? Her chest tightened as she swallowed. The silence stretched between them like a thread about to snap.
"I am Natalia Iverson from New York City," she finally said, her voice steadier than her racing pulse. Her hand hovered midway between them before falling limply to her side. Silvius's smile widened. Natalia's stomach churned with doubt.
Had she just made her first ally or her second enemy? The certainty she'd felt moments ago dissolved, leaving her adrift in a sea of consequences she couldn't begin to fathom.
Silvius's wings folded back with a whisper of feathers as she stepped forward, her scent enveloping Natalia. Without warning, warm fingers gripped Natalia's shoulders, pulling her into an embrace that felt like being pressed against marble wrapped in silk.
"Nat," Silvius whispered, her breath tickling Natalia's ear. "I'll call you, Nat." She pulled back, nails tracing the air between them.
"Smart girl, keeping your hand to yourself. A Shadreal's handshake is a contract written in blood." Her lips curled into that predatory smile again, but something glinted in her eyes—something almost like respect.
She glanced at Astaroth, tossing her hair. "Brand this one quickly, Astie. The vultures are circling." The door clicked shut behind her, leaving only the lingering scent of smoke.
"Fucking Silvi," Astaroth muttered. The chair legs screeched against stone as he stood, sending it toppling backward with a crack that echoed through the chamber.
His shoulders hunched forward, jaw tight, as he crossed the space in measured steps—one, two, three—until he loomed over Natalia, close enough that she caught the scent of cloves and night air
Natalia's fingers trembled against her collarbone where Silvius's touch still lingered.
Why was this realm so cold? Astaroth's nostrils flared as he leaned in, close enough that she could count the flecks of darker purple in his irises.
"Look at you," he whispered, his breath hot against her cheek. "Shivering like prey."
He snapped his fingers toward the hearth without breaking eye contact. The kindling exploded into flames that roared up the chimney, sending a wave of heat that forced her back half a step, hair lifting from her shoulders in the sudden draft.
Firelight danced across the sharp angles of his face, catching on the wet gleam of teeth behind parted lips.
Her feet might as well have been roots burrowing into stone—she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't look away from those violet eyes that consumed her like wildfire devouring a drought-stricken forest.
With predatory grace, he closed the gap between them. He raised his hand to his lips, and the gold ring blazed crimson, searing the air around it.
The metal hissed against his breath, his own flesh bubbling and knitting back together in the same instant, the scent of burning skin filling her nostrils.
"Remember to brand her with your sigil." Silvius's words hammered against her skull. The truth crashed through her—she wasn't just being marked, she was being claimed. Her lungs seized, heart thrashing against her ribs like something caged and feral.
His hand descended toward her chest, inexorable as death. "Focus on me," he commanded, his voice splitting her consciousness in two.
The ring met flesh. White-hot agony exploded through her body, a lightning strike that shattered her from within. Her scream tore through her, ripping her throat raw. Her legs collapsed, but his arm clamped around her waist like iron.
Astaroth slowly brought his hand to her chest. He looked at her with determined eyes. "Focus on me." He commanded as he let the scalding metal touch her skin. Natalia felt her legs buckle from the searing pain.
Her tears evaporated against her burning skin as she locked eyes with him, pouring every ounce of herself into her gaze while her flesh sizzled and smoked beneath the metal.
An eternity compressed into seconds until he finally withdrew the ring, leaving behind flesh branded scarlet and weeping.
Consciousness frayed at the edges, darkness rushing in like floodwater. She surrendered to it gratefully, plummeting into oblivion as the last threads of her old self burned away forever.