Chapter 66 Arrange a marriage
Amara POV
I nod, even though something in my chest tightens again at the thought.
Because whatever this is..
I’m going to be ready.
“Well.. I guess we’ll continue this later. I am a bit hungry, honestly.”
“The food isn’t bad. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Sounds like you had a good time here..” he huffs.
Sebastian does not wait any longer. He turns toward the door, pulling me gently with him, his hand still wrapped around mine as if letting go is no longer an option. I follow without hesitation. Whatever waits beyond that door, we face it together.
“Far from it. But I wasn’t kept in the cell for long. Just a night.”
He pauses. “So you were in a cell?”
“Just the first night.. I killed two vampires. He wanted to make sure I wouldn’t do more.”
A small smile tugs at his lips, causing me to feel a sense of pride.
The halls feel colder this time, out.
Not in temperature, but in awareness. Every step echoes a little louder. Every shadow seems a little deeper. The servants guide us again, quiet and respectful, but I can feel their attention lingering just beneath the surface.
Word travels fast in a place like this.
They know who we are.
They know what just happened.
And they are waiting to see what comes next.
We are led into a large dining hall, even grander than the throne room in its own way. A long table stretches down the center, polished to a mirror shine, lined with high-backed chairs carved from dark wood. Candles burn steadily along the length of it, casting a warm glow that almost manages to soften the otherwise cold atmosphere.
Almost.
Everyone is already there.
Luther leans back slightly in his chair, arms crossed, scanning the room like he is waiting for something to go wrong. Aven sits beside him, one leg crossed over the other, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. That girl I haven’t met sits farther down, her expression composed but distant, her attention flicking occasionally toward Cassian.
And Cassian..
He looks entirely at ease.
Like this is exactly where he wants to be.
Sebastian does not slow as we enter. He leads me to the table and pulls out a chair for me without a word. I sit, and he takes the seat beside me, positioning himself just slightly closer than necessary.
Protective.
Leviath sits next to me at the head of the table, already waiting.
Of course he is.
Servants move quickly and efficiently, placing dishes along the table one after another. Plates filled with meats, fruits, breads, and dishes I cannot even name appear before us, each one arranged with careful detail.
It looks.. all so normal.
Almost too normal.
Then Leviath’s meal is brought out.
It is not placed on a plate.
It is brought in a glass.
Dark.
Thick.
Fresh.
My stomach tightens slightly as I watch the servant hand it to him, her expression calm, practiced. There is no fear in her movements. No hesitation.
Leviath takes it without ceremony and brings it to his lips, drinking as if it is nothing more than wine.
Because to him.. it is. I wonder if I’ll ever have to. I hope not.
Sebastian does not react outwardly, but I feel it through the bond. That flicker of instinct. That deep, ingrained hatred that vampires carved into his world long before I ever stepped into it.
His hand tightens slightly against mine beneath the table.
I squeeze back.
Grounding him.
Reminding him.
I’m part vampire too..
He exhales slowly and lets it go.
For now.
The rest of the table begins to eat.
And..
It is good like I remember.
Better than good.
The meats are tender, seasoned perfectly. The bread is warm and soft. The fruits are fresh, sweet, almost impossibly so. Even the smallest dishes carry a level of care that makes it clear this was not thrown together.
The cooks are skilled.
Very skilled.
Aven hums quietly as she takes another bite. “Alright.. I hate that this is good.”
Luther nods, chewing slowly. “Yeah. That’s annoying.”
Sebastian remains more reserved, but even he does not push the food away. He eats, measured and controlled, his attention still split between the meal and everything else around us.
Leviath watches all of it.
Of course he does.
“You seem surprised,” he says smoothly.
Aven glances up. “Didn’t expect vampire food to be this.. edible.”
Leviath smiles faintly.
“My cooks are human,” he says. “And very well cared for.”
That makes Sebastian pause.
“They choose to be here,” he continues, as if reading the doubt before it fully forms. “They are fed, housed, and protected. Better than most outside these walls.”
I glance around the room again.
At the servants moving between us.
At their expressions.
Their posture.
There is no fear.
No tension.
No forced obedience.
And I hate that he is not wrong.
Sebastian feels it too.
That shift.
That uncomfortable realization.
Leviath takes another slow drink from his glass before setting it down.
“I find fear to be inefficient,” he says. “Loyalty, however.. is far more useful.”
The table falls quiet for a moment after that.
Because again..
He is not wrong.
And that might be the most unsettling part of all.
Leviath’s gaze shifts to me then.
Studying.
Interested.
“I wanted to see you again,” he says simply.
My brows pull together slightly. “You’ve seen me.”
He tilts his head. “Not like this.”
I do not like what that means.
Sebastian shifts beside me, his posture tightening just slightly.
“Say what you’re getting at,” he says.
Leviath’s attention drifts to him, amused.
“I had plans,” he says.
That alone is enough to set something on edge inside me.
“What kind of plans?” I ask carefully.
Leviath leans back slightly in his chair, entirely too calm.
“I intended to arrange a marriage,” he says.
The words hit harder than expected.
Sebastian goes completely still beside me.
“To Tomas,” Leviath continues.
My stomach drops.
Across the table, Tomas straightens slightly, clearly caught off guard by the bluntness of my father. He knew. Tomas knew and said nothing.
Leviath’s gaze flicks between us.
“It would have been beneficial,” he says. “For both sides.”
Sebastian lets out a slow breath, and I can feel the shift in him instantly.
Cold.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
“That’s not happening,” he says.
Leviath raises a brow slightly.
“No,” I say at the same time.
My voice is firm.
Unmoving.
“I have a mate.”
The words settle into the room like something final.
Leviath studies me for a long moment.
Then.. he nods.
“Clearly,” he says.
His gaze shifts to Tomas.
“In that case,” he continues, “you are free to choose a woman of your own liking.”
Tomas blinks slightly. “My King?”
Leviath’s tone does not change.
“As long as she is of high rank,” he adds.
Tomas inclines his head. “Of course.”
The tension eases just slightly after that, but not completely.
Because even though Leviath let it go..
The fact that he ever considered it at all lingers in the air.
Sebastian’s hand tightens in mine again beneath the table.
Not in anger this time.
In reassurance.
In certainty.
I glance at him briefly.
He does not look at me.
But I feel it anyway.
That same unwavering presence.
That same unshakable decision.
Whatever Leviath planned..
It does not matter now. Because I am not his to give. And I never was. I belong to Sebastian.