Chapter 16

Chapter 16
The room felt colder after Aristea left. I sat there on the bed, still hearing her words echo in my head. Granddaughter of the exiled king. Rightful heir.
It was too much. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. I didn’t know if I wanted to.
The door creaked again, and my stomach dropped.
I expected Aristea returning, maybe whispering more secrets—but instead, a taller, broader shadow filled the doorway.
Onyx.
He didn’t knock. He didn’t ask. He never did. He just walked in like the room belonged to him, like I belonged to him.
My pulse spiked. I scrambled to my feet, clutching the blanket around me like it was some kind of shield.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, though my voice wavered.
Onyx closed the door behind him with deliberate slowness. The latch clicked, and the sound was final, like a lock sealing me in with him.
His eyes, those piercing, stormy blue eyes—locked on me, unblinking. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he crossed the room in a few long strides until the distance between us shrank.
“Stay back,” I warned, holding my hand out as though it would stop him.
He didn’t listen. He never listened. His presence filled the room, heavy, suffocating. He was taller than me, broader, stronger, and he knew it.
But then, he stopped. Just close enough to corner me against the wall, but not touching. His hand rested flat against the stone above my head. His other hand hung at his side, clenched into a fist.
“Do you think I enjoy this?” His voice was low, rough, almost strained.
I blinked, thrown off. “Enjoy what?”
“Seeing you look at me like that,” he said, his gaze hard. “Like I’m a monster waiting to devour you.”
“You are,” I shot back before I could stop myself.
His jaw tightened, but instead of lashing out like I expected, he let out a short, humorless laugh. “Maybe I am.”
The silence stretched, thick enough to choke on. I could hear the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the faint wind outside the window. His nearness made it all feel louder.
Finally, he said, “I will not say sorry for wanting my mate. I don’t regret that. I’ll never regret it. But I…” He exhaled sharply, breaking eye contact for the first time, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I hate seeing you frightened of me.”
My heart twisted unexpectedly. I didn’t know what to do with those words. They didn’t sound like the Onyx I knew, the arrogant, unshakable bastard prince who bent iron with his bare hands.
This sounded… human.
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog in my chest. “Then stop scaring me,” I said, my voice trembling. “Stop barging into my life like I have no say. Stop ripping doors off their hinges and dragging me where you want me to go.”
His head snapped up, his eyes locking back on mine. “Do you think I can just stop?” he asked, voice raw. “Do you think I can ignore what this bond does to me?”
I flinched at the intensity.
He leaned closer, his lips almost at my ear. His breath brushed my skin, making me shiver. “Every second I’m away from you, it claws at me. It tears at me. You’re in my head, in my blood, in every breath I take. Do you know what that’s like?”
I swallowed hard. I did know, in a way..the pull, the ache in my chest whenever he was near, the way his presence unsettled me yet drew me in. But I shoved the thought away.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I whispered. “I never asked to be your mate.”
Onyx’s hand slammed against the wall beside me, making me jump. Not in anger, though, out of desperation.
“Neither did I,” he growled, his voice cracking on the edges. “Do you think I wanted this? To find out my mate has been living like a slave, treated like dirt, hidden from me all this time?” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought I’d never have one. I thought I was cursed. And then, then you show up. You. The one person I can’t walk away from.”
His words cut through me, sharp and deep.
For a moment, I saw it. The loneliness in him. The vulnerability he tried to bury under all that arrogance and cruelty.
But then I remembered the way he ripped my shirt open. The way he grabbed me like I was a possession to be claimed. The way he smirked while I trembled.
I shook my head fiercely. “That doesn’t excuse the way you treat me.”
His eyes darkened. “I’m trying,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be soft, Blair. That’s not what I was raised to be.”
“Then maybe I don’t want you,” I snapped. “Maybe I’d rather be alone than deal with this...this madness.”
The words hung between us, sharp as a blade.
Onyx flinched. Actually flinched, like I’d stabbed him. For a long moment, he just stared at me, silent, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
Finally, his voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” My throat tightened, but I forced the words out anyway. “I need to be my own person, Onyx. Not just your mate. Not just some prize you won’t let anyone else touch.”
His fist against the wall trembled. His jaw flexed as if he was holding back a roar. Then, slowly, he pulled his hand back and stepped away.
The room instantly felt bigger, though the air was still suffocating.
“I don’t know how to let go,” he admitted, voice low. “But if you want me to give you space, I’ll try.”
It was the closest thing to an apology I had ever heard from him.
But it wasn’t enough.
I wrapped my arms around myself, holding the blanket tighter. “Then prove it. Don’t just say you’ll try, actually do it. Stop barging into my life every time you feel like it.”
For once, he didn’t argue. He just stood there, staring at me with a storm raging behind his eyes.
Then he nodded once, sharp, almost reluctant. “Fine.”
He turned toward the door, his hand lingering on the handle. “But don’t think for a second that this bond will go away. You’re mine, Blair. Whether you admit it now or later.”
And with that, he left, the door shutting firmly behind him.
I collapsed onto the bed, my whole body trembling. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath uneven.
His words haunted me. Not just the claim of ownership, but the rare glimpse of vulnerability, the desperation in his voice.

I hated him. I feared him. And yet… some part of me ached at the thought of how broken he had looked when I told him I’d rather be alone.
I pulled the blanket tighter around me, burying my face in the fabric.

I couldn’t let him break me. I couldn’t give in.
But gods help me… I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out.