CH 10 - Simon

SIMON POV I didn’t sleep. I lay on top of the covers, still dressed, staring at the ceiling while the darkness thinned into gray. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same thing: his hand around hers. His mouth brushing her knuckles. The way she hadn’t pulled away. Fuck. Fifteen hours. In fifteen hours she would turn eighteen. At midnight, I would know. Either the bond I had spent eight years denying would surface and put an end to my misery and to every doubt clawing at my insides… or it wouldn’t, and I would have to live with the fact that whatever this was, it was mine alone. Maddox hadn’t rested either. He prowled beneath my skin, restless and raw, like the closer we were to midnight, the tighter something coiled inside him. At some point before dawn I genuinely considered locking silver cuffs around my wrists and anchoring myself to the bedframe, because the image of waking halfway down the corridor outside Lily’s chambers with blood under my nails did not feel impossible. Yes. That bad. 'She’s close,' he muttered. “I know.” I felt it too. The pull had changed overnight. It was no longer an ache I could dismiss as imagination. It had direction now, a steady internal pressure that drew my awareness through stone and enchantment alike, as if some invisible thread had been tightened between my sternum and wherever she currently stood. I did not need to see her to know where she was; if I closed my eyes and focused long enough, I could feel the orientation of her presence in this palace as clearly as gravity. Always that direction. Always her. I pushed upright and reached for the secured line hidden inside the ambassador’s case, because if I allowed myself to follow that thread before I had information, I would do something that could not be undone. Bailor answered on the third pulse. “Good morning sunshine" he barked. "cut the crap asshole" I bit back, already in a mood, didn't need his humour after a sleepless, restless night. "You sound like hell,” he said without missing a beat. “I need information.” “Are you sure you need something else to obsess about?.” “Samuel Grint,” I grit through my teeth, “You told me the older brother was positioned first. Now it’s the younger. I want to know why the shift happened and I want it fast.” There was a pause, then movement. “We’re digging. The older brother was the public candidate. Talks stalled. Rumors say he found his mate elsewhere. Two weeks later the younger one stepped forward. Clean transition. No scandal.” “Nothing is clean in politics,” I muttered, moving to the window as pale winter light spread across the palace grounds like something deceptively peaceful. "I want to know everything about him. From the day his first tooth appeared in his f*****g smirking mouth to today. want his alliances. Private debts. Any recent meetings with the Queen. Anything. I mean it.” “Gotcha boss. But the Grints have been consolidating influence in the eastern courts for ages. They’re not desperate, they’re ambitious. I don't think they would use a troublemaker to be their king.” “Do you think I give a f**k? I want facts, I want dates, I want the truth, ugly, desperate, poisonous truth.” “Faes are weird as f**k man, but...” I moved to the window, watching the pale winter light settle over the palace grounds. “No buts Bailor, do you understand me?” “Yes,” Bailor said, sighing. “give me an hour, I'll send what I can find.” One hour seemed too long. “She turns eighteen in fifteen hours,” I said. “If she manifests fae power, she can wait for her mate... If she doesn’t…” f**k I couldn't even think about it without my claws showing up and my fangs poking at my lips. “Then she looks unstable,” Bailor finished quietly. “She'll never be unstable.” I hissed "She'll always have me" “Are you saying?...” “I think.... I don't want anyone by her side but me” There, I said it. My chest was burning, Maddox was snarling, and I could feel my own heart slamming against my ribcage. There was a long pause. “And if she chose him anyway?” Bailor asked. My jaw tightened. “If she chose him freely, knowingly,” I said, each word a deliberate knife in my gut, “then I'll step back.” Maddox snarled low 'she's mine I won't step back. Ever' “And if she didn’t?” “Then I don’t.” The line went quiet for a moment. “Simon,” Bailor said carefully, “you’re inside their palace. If you lose control—” “I won’t.” That wasn’t a promise I was sure I could stand for, but I told him anyway. I had no choice but gather my s**t together and wait, knowing I needed her to be safe, one way or another. I ended the call and stood there, staring at my reflection in the glass. Pale brown hair. Sharpened features. Fae eyes that weren’t mine. The disguise held. My control did not. Coffee. I needed coffee. Real coffee, bitter enough to cut through the sweetness suffocating this place. The corridors were already alive when I stepped out. Servants moved quietly, nobles drifted past in silks and muted conversation. The air smelled like nectar and polished stone. And beneath it— Her. The pull tightened without warning, a sharp tug beneath my ribs that stole half a breath from my lungs. She was awake. Somewhere above me, maybe two floors up, maybe across the inner courtyard, but close enough that my body reacted before my mind did. My pulse spiked. My skin prickled. Maddox stilled completely, listening. ' we do not need coffee, let's go find her' 'She’s about to become something,' I muttered 'we need to avoid a f*****g war Maddox. Let's wait until midnight', I knew if I followed that thread blindly I would not have stopped at her door. we had to wait. Even if fifteen hours never seemed so sucking long. I turned toward the side corridor that led to the servants’ wing, and stopped, inhaling deeply. Fresh cut stems. Crushed greenery. Sweetness layered so thick it made my teeth ache. His f*****g scent. I spinned and there he was. Samuel Grint stood just inside the main entrance, framed by the high arch and the pale morning light, holding a bouquet so large it bordered on obscene. I hated it. I hated he could be so blatantly romantic to make teeth ache and I could not. For a moment I had to concentrate on keeping my breathing even, because the idea of those flowers reaching her room before I did felt like a knife in my heart. White and deep crimson blossoms woven together in deliberate excess, petals brushed with faint luminescence, rare and expensive enough that their meaning was unmistakable. It was obvious. He was publicly claiming her. Already. Maddox didn’t growl, didn't take control of my body in a half shift like I was sure he would have done in any other place. He went quiet, and we both got ready to strike. Samuel laughed at something a servant said, easy and unhurried, like he belonged there. Like he had already carved out space for himself in a palace that wasn’t his. For her. The pull flared so violently I had to brace myself. Fifteen hours. He was bringing flowers into her home fifteen hours before she turned eighteen. I moved toward him without fully deciding what I was going to do with his body once I would have slaughtered it into shreds. Step by step. Measured. Smiling. He noticed me when I was close enough to matter. His eyes flicked over me, sharp and assessing, taking in posture, stance, the way I carried myself. “Ambassador,” he said smoothly. “Up early.” “New walls,” I replied evenly. “New habits.” His smile sharpened. “You’ll get used to it.” I glanced at the flowers. “Compensating for something?” He laughed, not offended. “Generosity should never be mistaken for .... something else.” “That depends on what you’re trying to buy, or offering...” His gaze cooled slightly. “They’re for my future wife,” he said, like I might have missed that. “I thought she might appreciate waking up to something beautiful like her.” future wife. He did have a death wish. And I was going to f*****g oblige. Plus how stupid could he be? how f*****g short minded? Lily wasn't comparable to any flower, she was the most beautiful creature the world could ever see, inside and out. She was not a flower or a butterfly or a rainbow. She was sunrise and sunset, she was rainbows and eclipses, she was day and she was night. She was everything. My everything. “She lives in a palace,” I said evenly, trying my best to not smash his face against the nearest wall. “Beauty isn’t rare here.” “She deserves something that’s hers,” he replied. I stepped closer, close enough that the scent of flowers mingled with the faint trace of him beneath it. Fae magic. Confidence. Intention. “And are you planning to give her that,” I asked quietly, “or take it?” His jaw tightened just slightly. “I intend to make her happy.” I let out a short breath that almost passed for a laugh. “Intentions,” I said, “are cheap.” “And what are yours, Ambassador?” he shot back. “Concern for the realm? Or something more... personal?” Maddox surged, 'cut the crap and let me bite his throat' I stepped directly into his space then, close enough that our shoulders nearly brushed, forcing him to shift the bouquet to keep it from crushing between us. His eyes flickered, not fear, but awareness. Good. “Be careful,” I murmured, my voice low enough that the nearby servants couldn’t hear. “The realm has a long memory for men who overstep.” “And wolves,” he replied smoothly. The air between us went tight. He knew. I let my gaze drop deliberately to the hand holding the flowers. “The next time you put your mouth on her skin,” I said softly, “make sure she asked you to.” His expression changed then — not anger, not outrage. Amusement. “She didn’t object,” he said. That did it. Adrenaline was already pumping in my veins and there was no way I was going to restrain myself. The pull spiked like something snapping into alignment beneath my ribs. “She’s eighteen at midnight,” he continued calmly. “and when she chooses me, it won’t be because of flowers.” When she chooses me. The words echoed in my skull. Maddox bared his teeth inside me. 'Over my dead body.' I didn’t realize my hand had fisted into the fabric of his coat until I felt the tension under my knuckles. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “If you’re here to test me,” he said, “do it properly. Not with half-threats disguised as someone you're not.” A smile tugged at my mouth. Mocking. Cold. “You mistake me,” I said. “I’m not testing you.” My grip tightened a fraction. “I’m giving you the chance to do the right thing. ” His eyes darkened. Then, deliberately, he stepped back, easing himself free without breaking eye contact. “I won’t apologize for wanting her,” he said. “I’m not asking you to,” I replied. Fifteen hours. At midnight, the truth would surface. If she manifested as fae, if no bond snapped into place between us, then this, this violent, territorial obsession clawing at my insides, would be mine alone to manage. If she didn’t— I swallowed the rest of the thought. Samuel adjusted the bouquet. “I’ll see you at the engagement party,” he said. “Oh I'll be the first in line for a dance with my future queen,” I agreed. He moved toward the stairs, flowers bright and arrogant against the stone. I stood there long after he disappeared. If this pull was nothing more than instinct clinging to a ghost of a promise I’d made to a frightened child eight years ago. My hands curled slowly at my sides. “Then I walk away,” I said. Maddox went silent. The lie tasted worse than the fae coffee ever could. Fifteen hours. At midnight, I would know whether I was about to lose her… or claim her. And if the realm didn’t like the answer— They should have guarded her better.