Amber's Spell

Amber's POV

The candlelight reflected on the mirror and I saw myself in it. I examined the curved line of my painted lips, the dark kohl smudged to the point where it made my eyes sharper and hungrier. 

Men were always simple to master, lips, hips, a well-placed sigh but Prince Alexander Veyrion was a man built of steel and fire. He wasn’t supposed to bend. Not to me or to anyone else.

Yet I’d seen it, the crack in his armor. The way his eyes followed that boy. That dirty mongrel who dared walk these halls like fate had not spat him up in the dirt. 

Edrian.

My teeth clamped, my heart contracted. 

He was nothing. Less than nothing and yet Xander’s gaze lingered on him in ways that it never lingered on me.

I dipped two fingers into the little jar on the vanity. Sticky crimson paste stuck to them, and smelled just a little of roses and copper. 

Witchcraft. The type that went through the women in my bloodline, wrapped beneath silk sleeves and glittering rings. The world required a woman to have weapons that were not visible.

A woman needed weapons the world could not see.

I pressed the paste into the hollow of my throat, just below my pulse. The spell was subtle, it has no sparks or thunder, only scent. It would wrap around me like invisible chains, coil into Xander’s lungs when he breathed me in, and blur the edges of his judgment. He wouldn’t love me, not truly, but he would stay near. He would feel wrong without me at his side.

That would be enough.

“Lady Amber?” a maid whispered from the doorway. “His Highness awaits you in the west garden.”

I rose, smoothing silk over my hips, the jeweled pins in my hair glinting like venom tipped daggers. My steps were measured, my smile sharp. 

Tonight was not about seduction, it was about binding.

The west garden was damp and smelled of steel roses. Xander was standing there, with his back to me, and his broad shoulders taut as if they were bearing the burden of kingdoms. Torchlight bestowed upon him shadows.

“You summoned me, my prince?” I let my voice pour like honey.

He turned round, and his eyes flickered with that golden fire that unsettled me every time. 

For a moment, I thought he would have sent me away, sent me away like a servant. Then his eyes lessened, subtly, one could barely notice, but I saw it. He breathed, and I knew it was the spell taking its effect.

"Amber," he whisperd, as if he testing if he called the right name. “Walk with me.”

I came nearer, touching him on the arm. He did not flinch. A thrill rushed through me.

We walked through the lamplight walks, with a heavy silence between us. 

Finally, I broke it.

“You’ve seemed… distracted,” I said, my voice laced with delicate concern. “The court notices when you brood, Xander and they whisper.”

"Let them Whisper," he muttered, looking at the roses.

I tilted my head, studying him. 

“Is it about the slave-boy?”

His jaw hardened, and I knew I had struck the vein. His silence was confirmation. I let a slow smile curve my lips.

“He’s caused you nothing but trouble,” I said softly, letting my fingers graze his sleeve again. “People mock you for keeping him here. You should send him away. Or better give him back to the pits where he belongs.”

Xander stopped walking. His head was turned to me, and his eyes were slightly lit up in the torchlight. 

"You will not talk like that of him." His voice was very sharp, and I was taken by surprise because i was expecting the spell to cloud his mind. 

“Forgive me, I only worry for you." I lowered my lashes in feigned contrition. "You carry too much already and I do not wish to burden you, but to relieve you, my prince." 

His shoulders relaxed a little but his eyes remained searching. The scent of the spell enclosed him in a tighter manner. He drew a deep breath, this time more slowly, and the lines in his forehead smoothed.

Good. I would bring this up again when the spell had settled

I leaned closer, and my breath caressed his jaw as I talked. 

“Let me be your strength, Xander. The court already sees me at your side. Why fight what they expect? Why fight what feels… natural?”

For a heartbeat, I thought he would step back. I felt the wolf in him stir, restless.

However, gradually, he gave me the chance to put my arm through his. His chest went up and down with a great sigh, and I knew the spell had set its teeth in him.

When we get to his rooms later, I lay sprawling on his bed, silk spilling all around me like blood. Xander sat on the edge looking at the fire as if it can provide answers. He had not touched me yet, not the way I wanted him to, but he had not sent me away yet, either.

Patience. The spell would deepen each time.

“You think too much,” I murmured, crawling closer. “A king should not be so troubled.”

“I am not king yet,” he said flatly.

“You will be,” I whispered, pressing my lips to the tense line of his shoulder. “And I will stand beside you when you are.”

He drew a breath of relief, and though he did not embrace me, he did not reject me either. His scent, storm and steel mixed with mine that I felt that he breathed me in more, the unseen strands knotting along his mind.

“Rest, Xander. Let me quiet your thoughts.” I smiled against his skin. 

It was not consent, but neither refusal and that was enough. For now.

Then after the fire had faded and he was asleep, I slept next to him. He had not touched me as a man ought to touch his betrothed. Even when asleep his body was taut, but his scent was mixed with mine now. His wolf would begin to crave what I had laced into his blood.

The bond he shared with that boy was dangerous. 

I felt it in the way Xander bristled when Edrian entered a room, the way his golden eyes flickered even when he tried to look away. Mate bonds could not be severed easily, but they could be choked and I would be the rope.

My nails dug into the sheets as I smiled in the dark. 

Let Edrian’s wolf whimper. Let him ache. He would never have what I had.

Xander would stay mine.

Even if I had to drown his soul in spells to keep him.