POV: King Theron
I threw Morganna out of my room with a wave of my hand.
She crashed against the corridor wall, her shadow soldiers dissolving into nothing as I poured curse-power at them. She'd wanted to talk? She could wait. She could make an appointment like anyone else. I had a woman about to accept my proposal, and I wasn't going to let political games ruin this moment.
But as I turned back to Seraphina, I felt something strange.
The magic in the room was different. My palace had been built with my power for eight hundred years. I could read its magic like other people read books. And something about Seraphina was making the entire magical structure respond in ways I'd never experienced before.
"What's wrong?" Seraphina asked, sitting up on my bed. She'd gone pale. "What does Morganna want?"
I ignored her question and walked to her slowly. I needed to understand what I was feeling. I extended my hand and let my curse-reading magic flow out. It was like reading the very soul of who she was.
Siren blood. Powerful siren blood. Ancient siren bloodline.
My eyes went wide.
"You're siren-blooded," I said simply. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She flinched like I'd hit her. "How did you know?"
"I can read magic," I said. "I can read you. Your blood is singing to my curse-power. It's been singing this whole time." I sat down beside her, my mind running. "Siren blood makes you immune to death spells. That's why my curse never affected you. That's why you survived my touch."
"I was going to tell you," she said quickly. "My grandmother—"
"Your grandmother what?" I asked. Anger was rising in me, not at Seraphina but at the situation. Siren blood was rare. Siren-blooded people were hunted by those who wanted to exploit their magic. "Did she know you were in danger coming here?"
"She warned me," Seraphina admitted quietly. "She said your curse would kill me. She said you would destroy me."
The anger inside me turned into something darker. Dangerous.
"Siren blood marks you as prey," I said, understanding suddenly why her grandmother had kept it secret. "They hunt you. They grab you. They use you."
"Yes."
"And you came here anyway."
"You came looking for me," she said softly. "You made me come."
She was right. I had hunted her. I had tracked her down like a predator watching prey. But it wasn't the same. It couldn't be the same. Everything I did was to protect her, not abuse her.
"Listen to me," I said, and I waited until she looked straight into my eyes. "While you're with me, no one will hunt you. No one will use you. No one will dare touch what belongs to me. Do you understand?"
"I'm not a possession," she said, but her voice was unsure.
"No," I agreed. "You're the reason I'm still alive. You're the reason I haven't burned down the world. That's so much more important than property."
I wanted to touch her face. I wanted to hold her. For eight hundred years, I'd been unable to touch any live thing without killing it. The isolation of that was beyond human understanding. The loneliness was a curse in itself, maybe worse than the death-magic in my hands.
But Seraphina was siren-blooded. She was immune.
For the first time in eight hundred years, I could touch someone freely.
I reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away. She didn't. My hand—my cursed, dangerous hand—touched her cheek gently. And nothing happened. No death-magic flared. No curse triggered. Just skin against skin. Just the feeling of her face, warm and real and alive under my fingers.
I felt tears starting to form in my eyes.
"What's wrong?" she whispered.
"Nothing," I said, and my voice broke slightly. "Everything is finally right."
I'd spent eight hundred years untouching anyone. I'd spent eight hundred years alone in a way that mortals couldn't understand. I'd forgotten what it felt like to have another person's skin against mine without it being murder.
And now, with my hand against her face, I remembered why I'd been afraid to remember.
Because losing this—losing her—would destroy me in ways the original curse never could.
"Theron," she said softly, putting her own hand over mine, holding it against her face. "I'm frightened."
"Of what?"
"Of how fast this is happening. Of how much you need me. Of what happens if I can't give you what you're asking for."
I understood her fear. I understood it completely. Because I was afraid too. Terrified that she would leave. Terrified that the Council would take her from me. Terrified that what we had was too fragile to survive the immortal world's violence.
"The Eternal Ritual isn't a threat," I said carefully. "It's a deal. You can say no."
"Can I?" she asked. "You're a king. You're immortal. You rule everything around us. Can I really say no to you?"
Before I could answer, the magical alarms in my house screamed to life.
Every ward I'd set. Every defense spell. Every magical barrier. All of them were being hit at once.
I stood up immediately, my curse-power flowing to my fingers.
"Stay here," I ordered.
"What's happening?" Seraphina asked, fear sharp in her voice.
"The Council," I said sadly. "They're coming. And they're not coming to ask nicely."
I walked to the window and looked down at the palace grounds. What I saw made my blood freeze.
An army of immortal troops. Shadow wizards. Death-priests. All of them circling my palace, all of them glowing with hostile magic.
And leading them was a figure I'd hoped never to see again.
Morganna.
She stood at the middle of the army, her shadow magic swirling around her like a cloak. She raised one hand, and the entire palace shook.
"King Theron Nightshade!" her voice boomed across the land, magically amplified so that everyone could hear. "The Council wants your immediate appearance! You are hereby ordered to answer charges of breaking immortal law!"
I looked back at Seraphina, who was standing behind me, her face white with fear.
"What law?" I called back.
Morganna smiled, and it was a smile full of evil purpose.
"The law against binding yourself to a mortal without Council approval!" she yelled. "You're banned from keeping the girl, Your Majesty. Council order. Immediate compliance needed, or we will storm your palace and take her by force!"
The words hit me like a physical blow.
Binding? I hadn't bound her. Not yet. I'd only suggested it.
But Morganna didn't care about the truth.
"You have one hour to surrender the siren-blooded girl," Morganna continued. "Or face the entire might of the immortal Council's judgment."
The troops moved closer, their weapons glowing with destructive magic.
And in that moment, I realized something that made my curse burn brighter than it had in ages.
I couldn't give her up.
I couldn't let them take her.
And I was about to start a war that would shake the entire eternal realm.