Chapter 7

Seraphina’s POV

I folded the Council’s letter slowly, my fingers brushing the heavy paper as if it burned. Thirty days. Marriage. Union. And the sharp, dangerous line about Luca — placed under Council protection until the bond was sealed. They did not want peace. They wanted control. They knew exactly what we were — two powerful bloodlines, two broken histories, one child who carried the strength of both — and they meant to use us like pieces on a board.

Elena stood beside me, her jaw set tight. “You know what this is. It is not law. It is a trap. They have waited for you to return so they could lock you in place, bind your power to theirs, and take the boy when you are too tied up to fight back.”

“I know,” I said, turning toward the window. Alexander was still there. He had not moved an inch. He stood straight and still, like a statue carved from stone and resolve, his gaze fixed on the door as if he could will it open just by wanting it enough. “And they think because we are forced together, we will be weak. That we will fight each other instead of them.”

“Will you marry him?” Elena asked, her voice quiet and direct. “You can refuse. We can run. We can hide again.”

I looked down at my hands — hands that had scrubbed floors, that had held a crying baby through long nights, that now held the power of an empire. “We ran once. We hid once. And while we did, they grew stronger. They killed more. They built their lies higher. I will not run again. Not for them. Not for him.”

“Then what?”

“Then we play by their rules — until we can break them,” I said, lifting my chin. “If they want a marriage, they will get one. But it will be on my terms. He will not come into this house as a King. He will come as a partner. And he will earn every single thing he gets from me. Starting now.”

I turned away from the window and walked toward the front door. “Bring him in.”

Elena blinked. “You are sure?”

“I am sure. Because if we are going to be tied together, I need to know exactly what he is made of. I need to know if he is still the arrogant boy who judged me without knowing me — or if he is finally the man I should have had all along.”

A few minutes later the heavy door opened, and Alexander stepped inside. He did not look around in wonder or claim. He looked only at me, his expression serious, his posture careful, as if he knew every step he took was a privilege I could take away at any moment. He held his copy of the letter in one hand, folded tight.

“You read it,” he said. Not a question.

“I did.” I stood my ground, keeping three clear steps between us. “Thirty days. Marriage. Or war. And if we refuse, they take Luca.”

His face hardened, sharp and cold and fierce. “They will not touch him. Not while I breathe.”

“Good. That is the only promise you have made so far that I believe.”

He took one slow breath, steadying himself. “What do you want, Seraphina? What are your terms?”

***

Alexander’s POV

My heart hammered hard and steady in my chest as I waited for her answer. I would have agreed to anything. I would have signed away my fortune, my title, my very life, if it meant keeping her and Luca safe, if it meant getting even the smallest chance to fix what I had destroyed. But I knew her well enough now to know she would not ask for small things. She had spent five years building herself up from nothing. She would not settle for less than everything she deserved.

She walked slowly toward me, her gaze clear and sharp, seeing every part of me as if she could look straight through skin and bone and into every mistake I had ever made.

“Here are the rules,” she said, her voice calm and absolute. “You will move into this house — not me into yours. This is Romano ground. You will follow my rules here. You will not command me. You will not order me. You will not speak to me as if I am something you own.”

“Agreed,” I said immediately.

“Second — this marriage is a contract. Nothing more. I do not trust you. I do not forgive you. I do not love you. You are here only to protect Luca and to stop the Council from tearing everything apart. You sleep in separate quarters. You keep your distance. You do not touch me unless I say so.”

I swallowed hard. Every word cut deep, every wall she built felt like a physical barrier between us. But I deserved every single one. And I would climb over every wall if that was what it took.

“Agreed,” I said again.

“Third — you will answer every question I ask. About your family. About the past. About the Council. About why your father and mine died. No secrets. No lies. If I find you hiding anything, I end this arrangement instantly, and I take Luca far away where you will never find us.”

“On my life,” I said, my voice low and steady. “No secrets. I will tell you everything I know. And everything I find out.”

She paused, her eyes searching mine, looking for any sign of hesitation or pride. She found none.

“Fourth — you will never, ever speak to Luca about what happened five years ago. You will never tell him you rejected me. You will never let him think for one second that I was ever anything less than everything. And you will not try to force your way into his heart until you have earned the right to be there.”

Pain twisted through me, sharp and bitter. She was right. I had no right to him. I had no right to anything. But I would earn it.

“I swear it,” I said. “I will be patient. I will be kind. I will wait as long as it takes. And I will never make him feel anything but safe and loved.”

She nodded slowly, her expression softening only a fraction, just enough to show she had heard me.

“Then we have a deal,” she said. “But understand this, Alexander — this is not a second chance. This is a trial. And if you fail, you lose everything forever.”

“I know,” I said, and I meant it with every part of my soul. “And I will not fail.”

Then I saw her gaze shift, looking past me toward the entrance hall, and her expression changed. She went still, her shoulders tightening, and I turned to see what had caught her attention.

A man stood in the doorway, tall and broad, dressed in dark tailored clothes, his face handsome and sharp, his eyes dark and knowing. He leaned against the frame as if he owned the place, and his gaze swept over me slowly, with open amusement and clear challenge.

“Ah,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, rich with a dangerous warmth. “So this is the famous Lycan King I have heard so much about. The man who threw away the greatest prize in the city.”

He stepped forward, looking straight at Seraphina, and bowed low, elegant and confident.

“Hello, Seraphina, my love. I heard you were back. And I came as fast as I could.”

Seraphina’s posture changed instantly — she went taller, sharper, but not afraid. She looked at the man, and then back at me, and her voice was cool and steady as she spoke.

“Alexander — meet Dante Voss. My cousin. And the man who has been waiting five years to take my place at my side.”

Dante smiled — a bright, dangerous smile — and turned his eyes back to me, cold and triumphant.

“Welcome to the game, King,” he said softly. “But you should know — I never play to lose.”