Tainted Ties.

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Seraphina’s POV

Fabian’s glare still seared into my skin, even after he stormed away. I could still hear the rustle of Jarpy’s wings overhead, the lingering hiss of magic binding me to a fate I never chose. The chamber emptied, but the silence yelled betrayal louder than any words.

My skin burned where the forbidden sigil had been carved, the pain sharp and searing—yet it paled in comparison to the fire storming within my chest. An asset? A bargaining chip? Lycan Fabian? My father had finally gone mad. Jarpy! That cursed demon-bird now tethered to me like a ghost of fate, our mystical bond forged not from choice but by a man who saw fit to curse me into living for his dead son’s benefit. The hard-eyed old woman who’d etched the sigil into my skin vanished without a word, as though she hadn't just carved betrayal into my flesh.

“Do not forget your purpose,” my father growled, shoving me toward the hall. “You are not his mate. You are our weapon.”

A weapon. That was all I had ever been to him.

 Two attendants by my sides, I was being led through stark, echoing passageways to the rooms prepared for visitors.

 The air carried the faint sound of Moonridge warriors chanting burial hymns for their fallen prince, a boy who once handed me apples in the dark, who once offered me a glimpse of family. Now, he was just a ghost. The guards threw open the door, and I braced myself—only to find the room empty. No Lycan Fabian. But his scent lingered, spice, forest, war. I was beginning to recognize it, even before I wanted to.

My knees buckled. I didn’t realize I was shaking until I collapsed on the edge of the bed. I clutched at the robes, my cheek throbbing from my father’s blow, my shoulder aching from the sigil, my soul… if I even still had one.

I didn’t have time to mourn.

Because then, the door slammed open.

“Get up.”

His voice. Cold. Sharp. Commanding.

I rose before my brain caught up.

Lycan Fabian strode in, flanked by two elite guards who looked like shadows draped in leather and steel.

“You’ll travel with us to Darkmoor,” he announced. “Now.”

I blinked. “Now? But—”

“There’s no ‘but.’”. He approached menacingly, each stride a display of the control he commanded. “Your father offered you up like a sacrifice. You will fulfill your function.” He suspended in front of me, eyes analyzing me from head to toe. “Or perhaps I should ask why you reek of magic?”

My blood turned to ice. He could sense the sigil.

“I—”“Speak.”

“It’s nothing… a cut. From discipline.”

His nostrils flared. He didn’t trust me.

“You’re a horrible liar,” he moaned.

One of his guards spoke something in his ear, and Fabian’s face dim.

“Wear something practical. If you’re not ready soon, I’ll have you dragged out in chains.”

They left. I dressed in silence, trembling fingers slipping into the dark leather tunic they’d given me.

We left Moonridge through the back gates—no ceremony, no farewell. Only three black horses awaited us. I mounted mine without a word, without tears, as the castle shrank behind us.

Hours passed. Dusk thickened into night. Fabian said nothing.

We rode through dense forest until a clearing emerged—a village manned by black-armored soldiers. Fabian halted.

“We rest here,” he declared.

As we dismounted, a woman cloaked in silver blankets approached, her presence commanding.

“My King,” she bowed. “The border is secure.”

King?

So, it was true, Fabian wasn’t just a Lycan. He was the Lycan King.

My stomach twisted. I was following a king. A cold, brutal, unrelenting king.

He gestured toward me. “This is the girl.”

Her gaze snapped to me, nostrils flaring. Her face tightened.

“She carries blood magic.”

My heart dropped.

“Explain,” Fabian barked.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about!” I cried.

Fabian grabbed my arm. “More lies?”

“She’s telling the truth,” The woman said calmly. “She doesn’t understand it, but someone close to her does.”

Fabian’s eyes darkened. “Her father.”

The woman nodded. “It was a setup. She’s a conduit.”

“No!” I yanked my arm from his grip. “I didn’t want this! I didn’t choose this!”

Fabian stepped back. “Then prove it.”

“What?”

“Come with me. Now.”

He led me deeper into the woods behind the village, to a fire pit where a single prisoner whimpered in chains.

“A traitor,” Fabian said. “Tried selling secrets to humans. You want my trust? Kill him.”

“What?”

He tossed a sword at my feet. “If you’re not going against me, then choose.”

I stared at the blade, my hands shaking.“I’m not a killer,” I shouted.

“Then you’re unusable to me.”

He turned.

Tears blurred my vision. The prisoner was barely a boy probably nineteen.

“I’I can’t.”

Fabian didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

He was already walking away.

Then came the bird.

A burst of feathers. A hiss of magic. Jarpy.

My father had sent it.

It perched above, glowing with the magic that bound us. My blood froze.

Fabian turned.

He saw.

He understood.

In a flash, he was in front of me, claws out, eyes blazing. “You brought a spy bird into my camp?”

“No!” I cried. “I didn’t summon it! I swear!”

He raised his hand then hesitated.

“Wait,” said the silver-cloaked woman, stepping between us. “There’s more.”

She eyed the bird, then me. “She has no control over it.”

“She’s the receiver,” Fabian snarled. “Her father controls the bird.”

“Which means,” she continued, “we can use it.”

Fabian stared at me. “So be it.” He turned to his guards. “Bind her to me. With a blood pledge.”

My heart stopped. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said coldly, “from this moment on, if you betray me, you die. If you lie, you bleed inside. If you defy me, your bones will snap one by one.”

My throat dried.

“You said you didn’t choose to be a pawn,” he said. “Now choose to be loyal. Or end this here.”

The bird shrieked again.

I closed my eyes.

And whispered, “I choose.”

The woman stepped forward, slicing both our hands. Our blood mingled in a silver bowl. She chanted in the ancient tongue. The bowl glowed.

It was done.

The bird vanished.

And Fabian leaned in, his voice like ice against my ear.

“From now on, you’re mine. Not as a pawn. But something worse.”

“Worse than a pawn?” I breathed.

He smirked, lips near my skin.

“A trap