Chapter 89

I froze, staring into his eyes. His arms drew me close as he stroked my hair, his touch meant to soothe me. Yet, his attempts felt futile. My heart thundered erratically from the moment he spoke my father’s name. I could dismiss the presence of any other Alpha, but not him. Even now, with my defenses strengthened and someone just as powerful by my side, the very thought of meeting Cassius Marwood’s gaze filled me with terror. Did that make me a coward? Perhaps. But I couldn’t deny that the weight of his presence reduced me to the most fragile version of myself.

“W-why does he have to be there?” My voice trembled as I fought to understand. “He killed your mother, didn’t he?” I shivered, the idea of inviting someone like Cassius chilling me to the core.

“This is exactly why I want him there.” Hadrian’s lips curved into a cold smirk. “I want to stare into his eyes and let him feel fear. I want him to know that his reckoning is near.”

I understood Hadrian’s thirst for vengeance against my father. I had no plans to stop him. To me, Cassius Marwood wasn’t a father but a tormentor. Blood might bind us, but it meant nothing in the face of the hatred I bore for him.

“Don’t worry.” Hadrian’s voice softened as he kissed me, then let his lips trail down to my neck. “I’ll protect you from any danger you might face.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that he would always keep me safe. But another part of me resented my dependence on him. He made the decisions. He held all the power, and I was left to watch, a mere pawn in his game. A pawn with no agency—long after the queen had been taken from the board.

His caresses that night brought little comfort. Though I submitted as I always had, I felt disconnected, as though I’d lost a part of myself. Hadrian’s desire burned brightly, consuming him, but it wasn’t enough to reach me. Something essential was missing—something that blurred the line between raw passion and true intimacy.

I remembered him leaving just before dawn. Exhausted, I could barely open my eyes. He kissed me gently, unaware that I was half-awake, and slipped away through the passage behind the bookshelves. When I woke fully, the sun was already high in the sky. The bed beside me was empty, and my heart felt just as hollow. As I ran my fingers over the spot where he’d lain, trying to recall the warmth of his presence, the ache inside me grew unbearable. My first day in the palace began with nothing but emptiness.

I tried to sort through my tangled emotions, but they were a chaotic mess. I hated Hadrian for how powerless he made me feel, yet my love for him always overpowered my anger. Feelings were anything but logical. I wished I could reset my heart and replace it with something more rational, but instead, I was left with a malfunctioning system.

Dragging myself out of bed, I stumbled towards the closet. My body still felt weak—Hadrian had taken more of my blood than usual, more even than when he’d been fighting off the effects of silver poisoning. Was he preparing for battle? Did he need to be stronger, or was this his way of saying he wouldn’t be visiting me again soon? A bitter smile crossed my lips at the thought.

“Come on, Thalassa,” I muttered, slapping my cheeks to summon some semblance of strength. “Use your head, not your heart. Even if it hurts.”

Dressing quickly, I found myself longing for Freya and her incessant nagging. The cold, unwelcoming walls of the palace felt suffocating. My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Yes?” I called.

“I’ve brought you breakfast, Lady Thalassa.” The female voice carried a thinly veiled hostility.

Here it comes, I thought, bracing myself. The “fun” part of palace life was about to begin.

“You may enter,” I replied firmly, keeping my tone polite.

The maid stepped in, a tray balanced in her hands. Her fake smile was painfully obvious. Setting the tray down on the table, she pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit. I met her gaze with a knowing smirk before taking the seat she offered.

“Enjoy your meal,” she said with a snicker, turning to leave as though fleeing the scene of a crime.

“Wait,” I commanded, my voice sharp.

Her smug expression shifted into one of irritation as she turned back towards me. I lifted the dome covering the tray, revealing the food she’d brought. The rancid stench hit me immediately. The salad was covered in mold, the bread was speckled with decay, and the butter was mottled with brown spots. They had truly gone out of their way to make the meal as repulsive as possible.

“Who instructed you to serve me this?” I asked, a cold smile playing on my lips.

“Oh, it’s a gift from the Queen,” she replied, her tone laced with mockery. “To help Lady Thalassa feel at home.”

Her audacity made my blood boil. She didn’t even bother hiding her disdain, her entire demeanor screaming that she thought I was too weak to retaliate. I studied her, my anger simmering beneath the surface.

“What's your name?”

“Keziah, Milady,” she replied with a laugh laced with arrogance.

I motioned to the chair beside me. “Sit down and join me for breakfast.” A smile tugged at my lips, but my eyes locked onto hers with an icy, unflinching stare.

She raised an eyebrow but complied, sitting down with an expression of amusement, as if testing the limits of my patience. She mocked my authority, yet followed my order, her defiance thinly veiled behind a smirk.

“Do you expect me to eat this?” I twirled a fork around a piece of molded tomato, the sight alone enough to make my stomach turn.

“I apologize, Milady. I suppose the kitchen doesn't quite understand what humans eat,” she snickered, her tone dripping with disdain.

She was pushing me, testing how far she could go. She believed I was defenseless, that she could mock me without consequence. But she was wrong. I may not have been the Queen, but as the King’s concubine, I deserved respect. And I had the power to enforce it—if only strength would allow.

“Are you a mixed-blood, Keziah?” I asked, keeping my voice steady, though something simmered beneath the calm exterior.

She chuckled, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “Most of my blood is vampire blood, Milady. So I’d suggest you not make me angry.” Her eyes sparkled with a challenge as she flashed a smirk.

She was wearing on my nerves, pushing me further with every word. But oddly enough, the more irritated I grew, the more something inside me stirred. A new force was building within me, an unfamiliar strength. I smiled at her, a slow, dangerous curve of my lips, and pushed the plate toward her.

“I’ve lost my appetite, Keziah. You eat it.”

“I’m not hungry,” she sneered, looking at me as if she could care less.

“I didn’t ask if you were hungry,” I replied, my voice a melody of command. “I gave you an order.” My smile widened, my gaze never leaving hers.

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, unimpressed. “Make me,” she retorted, her voice dripping with defiance.

A strange, unfamiliar power surged through me. It was as if my muscles were suddenly infused with energy I had never felt before. Before I could think, I rose from my seat, grabbed the back of her head, and smashed the plate into her face. The motion was quick, fluid—less than half a second—and the rush of adrenaline surged through me, sending a satisfying shiver down my spine.

I stood back, watching as Keziah slowly lifted her bloodied face from the table. She groaned, like an animal wounded beyond repair, before launching herself at me, claws extended in a fury. I slapped her.

My hand struck with a force I couldn’t have anticipated. It felt like stone, the power behind it knocking her clean to the floor. She stared up at me, confusion and disbelief evident in her eyes.

I stepped over her, unfazed, and walked toward the door, opening it with a single, smooth motion. “Guards!”

Two men in palace uniform appeared instantly, rushing toward me with unquestioning obedience.

“Yes, Milady?” they spoke in unison, waiting for orders.

“What is the punishment for attacking the King’s concubine?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Keziah was still lying on the floor, dazed and bewildered.

“Death, Milady,” one of the guards answered, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

I smirked coldly, pointing toward the Queen’s maid, still kneeling in the middle of the room. “This garbage in my chamber insulted me, refused my order, and then dared to attack me.”

Keziah, now kneeling, glared at me with a mixture of fury and confusion. I had never imagined I could be this ruthless, but she had left me no choice. I had to make an example of her.

“Take her away,” I ordered, my voice a quiet threat, “and punish her accordingly.” The words barely squeezed out, as if I had to force them from my throat, the weight of my decision heavy upon me.

The guards nodded in unison, seizing Keziah as she struggled and cursed, still grappling with the consequences of her foolishness. She had failed to realize that she wasn’t facing Lady Thalassa, the weak human, but a new version of me—one that had awakened, one that was far stronger than she could have ever imagined. Thalassa 2.0.