The kiss burned through Seraphina like lightning striking deep water, unstoppable, endless. Dominic's mouth claimed hers with hunger that had been caged too long, every suppressed desire snapping loose like chains torn apart. His hands gripped her arms too tightly, claws grazing skin, but she didn't flinch. She wanted the bite, the danger. She wanted him.
When he tore away, breath ragged, his amber eyes glowed with something feral. "You undo me," he rasped, voice thick with gravel and restraint. "Every moment I fight this bond and every moment I lose."
Seraphina's lips trembled. "Then stop fighting."
The words fell between them like a blade. The truth neither of them had dared to voice.
For a heartbeat, silence. His chest rose and fell like a beast pacing its cage. Then his hands were on her again, pulling her from the chair and into him. She gasped as her body collided with his, her palms pressed to the hard plane of his chest. His heart thundered beneath her touch, wild, unyielding.
Dominic bent, his lips grazing her neck, his breath hot. "I told myself I would never take you as my wife. But tonight—" His teeth brushed the tender flesh of her throat, sending a shiver spiraling down her spine. "—tonight, I may take you as my mate."
Seraphina's knees weakened. She clutched his shoulders, her voice barely a whisper. "Then do it."
That was all it took.
With a growl, he swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed with the dominance of a king and the desperation of a man undone. He laid her down against the silken sheets, his body looming above hers, the firelight painting his muscles in molten shadow.
The bond sang, louder, fiercer, pulling at them both until resistance was impossible.
---
Far from their chamber, Lyanna seethed.
Her chamber dripped with candlelight and the scent of spiced wine. She paced, nails digging into her palms, rage simmering hotter with every heartbeat. She had watched Dominic dismiss her in front of the court, had watched him all but defend that sea-born witch with his life.
But tonight—tonight, her spies told her the truth. The King had not killed Seraphina. He had not cast her aside. He had kissed her.
Lyanna's chest heaved.
"No," she hissed to the shadows. "He will not choose her over me. I will not allow it."
A figure stepped from the darkness—a man cloaked, hood drawn, bearing the insignia of her house. "The potion is ready, my lady. A single drop, and his wolf will bow to you."
Lyanna smiled, cold and venomous. "Then tomorrow, when the moon rises, the Alpha King will be mine."
---
But Dominic's wolf would not be tamed. Not tonight.
His lips devoured Seraphina's again, his hands sliding down the curve of her waist to the swell of her hips. She arched into him, heat flooding her veins, the firelight dancing in her eyes as she whispered his name.
"Dominic…"
The sound broke him. His mouth trailed down her collarbone, teeth grazing her skin with dangerous hunger. She gasped, nails raking across his back, leaving faint red lines he welcomed with a growl.
"You don't know what you do to me," he groaned against her flesh. "Every day I burn. Every night I dream of tasting you. I tried to hate you, gods, I tried—"
Her hands cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with the raw edge of truth. "Then don't hate me. Want me."
And then she kissed him, fierce and demanding, pulling him fully into her storm.
The bond flared, brighter than ever, a tidal wave that crashed through them both. His wolf howled inside him, not in defiance, but in exultation. For the first time, Alpha and beast agreed—they would claim her.
---
He undressed her slowly, reverently, though his claws shook with the effort of restraint. Fabric tore beneath his impatient touch, and soon her skin was bared to him, glowing like moonlight itself. She was not wolf, not of his world, but in that moment she was everything—sea and storm, fire and salvation.
Seraphina trembled beneath his gaze, her body lit with desire and nerves. Yet when his hand traced her thigh, when his lips followed the line of her stomach, she did not resist. She opened to him, yielding not out of weakness but fierce choice.
Dominic lowered himself, tasting her with a hunger that made her cry out, her hands clutching the sheets. He worshiped her with his mouth, his growls vibrating against her until her body writhed, pleasure cresting like waves breaking against stone.
When she shattered, gasping his name like prayer, he rose above her, lips slick with her taste, eyes glowing like molten amber.
"You are mine," he growled.
"Yours," she whispered, and for the first time, she meant it.
With a roar, he drove into her, their bodies colliding in fire and storm. She cried out, half in shock, half in ecstasy, as the mate-bond sealed with every thrust. The world vanished, leaving only them—their breaths, their cries, the wild rhythm of their bond.
He claimed her as Alpha, as king, as man. And she met him with equal fire, no longer resisting, no longer denying, but giving herself to him fully.
The sheets tore beneath his claws, the headboard rattled with his force, but none of it mattered. Only the bond mattered.
When they finally collapsed, spent and trembling, Dominic buried his face against her neck, his voice ragged. "If I lose you… I will lose myself."
Seraphina's hand stroked his hair, her own body still trembling from the storm they had unleashed. "Then don't let go."
---
But Lyanna would not let them keep each other.
At dawn, the court gathered again, summoned by the tolling of the war-bells. The assassin's allies had been found, and whispers of rebellion spread like wildfire.
Dominic strode into the hall, Seraphina at his side, the bond still pulsing between them, visible in every glance, every brush of his hand against hers. The court noticed. The lords noticed. And so did Lyanna.
She stood near the dais, her face pale but her eyes burning with fury. In her hand, hidden by folds of crimson silk, was a vial of shimmering black liquid.
When the moment was right, when Dominic raised his voice to command the lords, she would strike.
She would slip it into his goblet, and when he drank, his wolf would be hers. His throne would be hers. His kingdom would be hers.
And Seraphina?
She would be nothing but a body floating face down in the sea.