Chapter 19: dinner table tantrums (2)

Chapter 19: dinner table tantrums (2)
The dining hall was still buzzing when the guards finally shoved Onyx and Skye apart. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, just stood there with my tray clutched against my chest as if it might shield me from all the eyes boring into me.
“Escort the princes to their chambers,” one of the older nobles barked, trying to restore order.
“No.” Morgana’s voice sliced through the chaos. Calm, precise. She stood slowly, her jeweled hand resting lightly on her wine glass as if nothing had happened. “Let them stay. They made their choices. Let everyone here remember what it looks like when children throw tantrums.”
Skye’s jaw tightened, but he smoothed his collar and sank back into his chair. Onyx didn’t sit—he stayed standing, shoulders heaving, his eyes locked on me as though nothing else existed.
The whispers were deafening.
“Over a maid?”
“She must be some kind of witch.”
“Or just cheap. Men fight over cheap things all the time.”
Heat rose in my throat, shame crawling over my skin like fire ants. I wanted to disappear, melt into the floor, anything to escape those eyes.
“Blair,” Morgana said suddenly.
I snapped my gaze to her. She was smiling now. The kind of smile that was sharp enough to draw blood.
“Come here.”
Every muscle in my body screamed not to move, but my legs obeyed her command before my brain could argue. The other maids snickered behind me as I shuffled forward, my steps small and shaky.
“Yes, my lady,” I murmured, eyes downcast.
Her hand shot out, cold fingers gripping my chin, forcing my face up. “So this is the face,” she purred. “The little slave girl who has two princes clawing each other’s eyes out.”
“I—I didn’t ask them to,” I stammered.
Her laugh was low and cruel. “Oh, darling. Men never need asking. You’ve been spreading your legs, haven’t you?”
Gasps rippled around the table. My blood ran cold.
“No! That’s not true!” I tried to pull back, but her grip tightened, nails biting into my skin.
Onyx’s voice boomed across the room. “Release her, Morgana.”
She tilted her head, eyes never leaving mine. “Or what, pup? You’ll hit me like you hit your brother?”
The nobles tittered, scandalized but entertained.
Skye finally spoke, his voice like iron. “Enough, Mother.”
Morgana’s grip loosened, but not before she leaned closer, her breath warm and venomous in my ear. “Enjoy your moment, girl. It won’t last.”
She shoved me back, and I stumbled, nearly tripping over my own feet. One of the maids caught me—not out of kindness but so she could hiss, “Slut,” under her breath before letting me go.
The rest of dinner passed in strained silence. Onyx never sat down again, standing like a guard dog with his eyes trained on me. Skye kept his composure, but I saw the twitch in his jaw, the way his hands curled around his silverware. Morgana smiled sweetly and spoke of politics, as if she hadn’t just gutted me with her words.
When it was finally over, the maids hurried to clear the table. I tried to slip out with them, but a hand caught my wrist.
Onyx.
“Come,” he ordered.
My heart leapt into my throat. I wanted to refuse, but his grip was iron. The other maids watched, their whispers chasing me out of the hall.
“She’ll be dead by morning.”
“Or pregnant.”
“Maybe both.”
He dragged me into the corridor, his pace relentless until we were alone. He shoved me gently—not violently, but firmly—against the wall, caging me in with his arms. His breath was hot against my cheek.
“I warned you,” he growled. “I told you this would happen if you kept running from me.”
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Onyx. I never wanted to be your mate.”
His jaw clenched. For once, though, his voice softened—barely. “I will not say sorry for wanting you. But I hate seeing you frightened of me.”
I stared at him, stunned. It wasn’t an apology, not really, but it was closer than I ever thought he could get.
“You terrify me,” I whispered. “Every time you touch me, every time you look at me like I’m something you own. I can’t breathe.”
He flinched, just barely, but I saw it. “You are mine,” he said, but it sounded less certain now. “Do you think I don’t know what they’ll do to you if you’re not under my protection? You won’t survive this place without me.”
“I’ve survived worse,” I shot back.
He leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing mine. “You think Skye will protect you? He doesn’t care about you. To him, you’re a mask to hide behind. To me, you’re…” He broke off, his voice rough. “You’re the only thing that feels real.”
My chest tightened, but I shook my head, forcing the words out through the lump in my throat. “I would rather be alone than belong to either of you.”
The silence stretched between us, heavy, suffocating. For the first time, Onyx looked… uncertain. His hands dropped to his sides, his body sagging as if my rejection had taken the fight out of him.
“Then go,” he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. “But don’t come crawling back when Skye uses you up and throws you away.”
He turned and stormed down the corridor, his footsteps echoing like thunder.
I pressed my back against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold stone floor. My hands trembled in my lap, my throat tight with everything I couldn’t say.
I didn’t want either of them. But I also knew Morgana was right about one thing: this wouldn’t last. My fragile place in this castle was already cracking, and soon, it would shatter completely.
I hugged my knees to my chest and let the tears fall where no one could see.