Chapter 26: in his bed

Chapter 26: in his bed
The fire had died down to glowing embers in the hearth, but the heat of the night still clung to me like a second skin. My body was heavy, my thoughts tangled. I lay in Onyx’s bed, the sheets twisted around my legs, the scent of him everywhere.
It should have felt like victory for him. He had gotten what he wanted. The bond had dragged me under until I couldn’t fight it anymore. Yet all I felt was hollow.
His breathing was slow and steady beside me. I thought he was asleep.
I turned carefully, sliding one leg over the side of the bed. My feet touched the cold floor. My chest tightened as I stood, grabbing for my skirt crumpled nearby. If I left now, maybe I could forget what I’d allowed. Maybe I could reclaim something of myself before it was too late.
I had just reached for the doorknob when a strong hand wrapped around my wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Onyx’s voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the steel underneath. He tugged, and in one motion, I stumbled back against him, the door slipping from my hand. His bare chest was solid against my back, his arm like a band of iron around me.
“I…” My throat felt dry. “I was just—”
“You were just trying to sneak away from me,” he finished for me, his breath hot against my ear. “Again.”
I swallowed hard, heat rising to my cheeks. “I needed air.”
“You don’t need air,” he murmured, pulling me back toward the bed. “You need to understand something.”
Before I could protest, he turned me around, his hands gripping my shoulders. His expression was unreadable in the dim firelight, but his eyes… his eyes pinned me in place.
“You’re not a maid anymore, Blair,” he said, the words sharp, final. “You’re mine. My mate. The household knows it, the maids know it, the entire castle knows it. You will never scrub floors or bow your head to anyone again. Do you hear me?”
The words hit harder than I expected. I wasn’t used to being claimed, to being lifted out of the dirt so suddenly. And yet, there was something suffocating about the way he said it. Something binding.
I didn’t answer. My silence made his grip tighten just a little.
“I said, do you hear me?”
I nodded, finally, though my lips pressed into a thin line. “I hear you.”
He released a breath, almost relieved, and guided me back into bed. When I tried to stay perched on the edge, he pulled me in against him, tucking me beneath his arm like I belonged there.
I stared at the flickering shadows on the ceiling, my body stiff. He was warm, his presence overwhelming, but my mind refused to quiet.
“You’ll need a maid of your own now,” he said suddenly, his tone lighter, like this was simple. “Someone to serve you, run errands, attend to you. Whoever you want.”
I blinked, caught off guard. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them.
“I don’t need one.”
“You do.” His thumb brushed absentminded circles on my arm, his attention still fixed on me. “You’re not going to stand with the servants anymore. You’ll be treated like what you are. A lady of this house. My mate.”
I wanted to argue, to push the word “mate” back into his mouth and tell him it didn’t erase everything I’d been through. But instead, I thought of Aristea. The only one who had shown me kindness. The only one who seemed to understand what I carried.
“I’ll choose Aristea,” I said quietly.
Onyx shifted slightly, surprised by the name. “Aristea?”
“Yes,” I said more firmly. “She’s the only one I trust.”
His brows drew together. He studied me, as though searching for the reason behind my choice. “Why her?”
I hesitated. I couldn’t tell him the truth—that Aristea had come here looking for me, that she carried secrets about my bloodline, that she whispered of thrones and stolen legacies. That was mine to hold, not his.
“She’s just… different,” I said instead. “She doesn’t treat me like the others do.”
He was silent for a long moment, his hand still on me, his breathing steady. Finally, he nodded once. “Fine. If that’s who you want, then she’s yours. No one will question it.”
Something inside me twisted at his words. The ease with which he bent Draco, the way he could speak things into existence without challenge—it unsettled me. What kind of power did he hold that even the king listened?
I turned slightly in his arms, meeting his gaze. “Why does your father do what you say?”
For a second, something flickered in his expression. Not his usual arrogance, but something quieter. He leaned back, smirking faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s not your concern.”
“It feels like it should be,” I said softly.
His hand cupped my cheek, pulling me closer until our noses nearly touched. “The only thing you should be concerned about is me. Us.”
I wanted to argue again, to push him away, to demand answers. But my body betrayed me. The mate bond hummed between us, heavy, intoxicating, making my eyelids heavy.
I hated the way it made me melt into him. Hated that I couldn’t decide where he ended and I began.
So I lay there in silence, letting him hold me, my thoughts a storm I couldn’t escape.
Eventually, his breathing evened out, the weight of sleep dragging him under. But mine never came.
I stared into the dying firelight, Aristea’s words echoing in my head.
Reclaim your rightful place.
I didn’t want a crown. I didn’t want this kingdom. I didn’t want to be anyone’s possession.
All I wanted was freedom.
And yet, here I was, lying in the arms of the man who had made me his whether I liked it or not.