Chapter 20: offers and offers

Chapter 20: offers and offers
The corridor was silent except for the faint drip of water from a gutter pipe outside. I sat with my knees pulled to my chest, tucked into the shadow of the stone wall. My skin still stung where Morgana’s palm had struck, though it wasn’t the pain that made me tremble, it was the humiliation.
Everyone had seen it. The maids. The guards. Onyx.
I thought the night couldn’t twist itself any further. But then the sound of deliberate footsteps approached, slow and steady. I lifted my head and there he was—Skye.
He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, silver hair catching the flickering torchlight, his crimson eyes cool as winter.
“You have a talent for drawing storms,” he said. His voice was calm, too calm, like a blade being tested for sharpness.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “If you came to laugh, go ahead. You won’t be the first.”
“I didn’t come to laugh.” He stepped forward, tilting his head. “I came to give you something better than pity.”
I forced myself to stand. My legs ached, but I refused to look weak in front of him. “Then say it. What do you want?”
He smiled faintly, though it never reached his eyes. “You know what I want. I want you to stand beside me.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Stand beside you? You mean pretend to be yours so your family doesn’t look pathetic for having a son without a mate?”
His jaw tightened at the word pathetic. “If you want to reduce it to that, fine. But it’s more than appearances, Blair. It’s survival. Reputation. My position weakens every year I remain without a mate. People are beginning to whisper. I cannot afford whispers.”
“Whispers,” I repeated, shaking my head. “That’s all this is to you? You’d tie me to you just to silence gossip?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “And in return, you’d be untouchable. No one could humiliate you again. Not my mother. Not the maids. Not even Onyx.”
“Untouchable?” My voice cracked on the word. “Like I was tonight when your mother slapped me? You didn’t stop her. You didn’t even flinch.”
His gaze hardened, and for the first time I saw something like shame flicker there. “That was unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate?” I spat the word like poison. “She degraded me in front of everyone. She made me feel like dirt. And you stand here telling me I’d be protected?”
“If you were with me,” he pressed, “she would have no choice but to accept you.”
I stared at him, my chest heaving. “So I’d be paraded like some polished jewel at dinners while she whispers curses under her breath? You’d call that protection?”
“You’d have status. Safety. Comfort. More than you’ll ever get anywhere else.”
My hands curled into fists. “More than I’ll ever get with Onyx, you mean.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Onyx is a fire with no direction. He’ll consume everything, even you. With me, you won’t burn—you’ll endure. You’ll rise.”
I met his eyes and for a long moment neither of us spoke. His words weren’t entirely wrong. Onyx’s temper terrified me. His possessiveness suffocated me. Yet Skye’s offer felt just as suffocating in a different way—a cage lined with velvet.
“So what is this really?” I asked at last, voice hoarse. “A contract? You keep me from being mocked and I keep you from looking weak?”
“Yes.” His bluntness was almost cruel.
It made my stomach twist. “Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand how cheap that makes me feel?”
“You’d rather remain a servant?” His voice sharpened. “You’d rather scrub floors until your back breaks? I’m offering you more.”
“No.” My throat was tight but my voice stayed firm. “You’re offering me chains, Skye. Golden, polished chains. But chains all the same.”
For once, his composure faltered. He raked a hand through his hair, pacing in front of me. Then, suddenly, his words cracked like a whip.
“Then tell me,” he demanded, “what is it? Is it me? Do you think I’m ugly?”
The question stunned me.
He stepped closer, eyes burning. “Is that why you flinch? Is it my face? My blood? Do I disgust you that much? Because there are women in this kingdom who would kill to stand where you are. They beg for my attention. They would claw each other’s eyes out for the smallest glance. And yet you—” His voice broke off as his fists tightened. “You look at me like I’m nothing.”
I swallowed hard, my anger colliding with pity I refused to feel. “You really want to know why I won’t accept you?”
“Yes,” he said, desperation threading his tone now. “Tell me.”
I lifted my chin, my voice trembling but unyielding. “Because I would rather eat my own heart than lower myself to the people who slaughtered my grandfather and stole my place. I will not be your mask. I will not be your shield. And I will not bow to the family that destroyed mine.”
For the first time, he looked shaken. His mouth parted, but no words came.
“You don’t understand—” he began.
“I understand perfectly.” My voice grew stronger with every word. “I would rather rot in the dungeon than pretend to belong to you. I will not play the part you want me to play. Not for whispers. Not for safety. Not for you.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. His chest rose and fell, his eyes hard as stone, but behind the anger I caught something raw—wounded pride, maybe even fear.
Finally, he spoke, each word cold as ice. “You’ll regret this.”
“Maybe I will,” I whispered. “But it will be my regret. My choice.”
For a moment I thought he might strike the wall or grab me, but instead he spun sharply, his coat flaring as he stalked down the hall. His footsteps echoed until they faded into silence.
I stood there trembling, my body aching from the weight of defiance. My heart pounded like I had just survived a battle.
And maybe I had.
Because for the first time since stepping into this cursed castle, I had said no. And though it left me shaking, though it left me terrified of what Skye might do next, it also left me with something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Pride.
I wasn’t just surviving anymore.
I was fighting back.