Page 233 of Owned

“Lucian would never have allowed dissent,” Bastian observed. His tone was neutral, but his eyes were sharp with interest.

“I’m not Lucian.” The words emerged with more power than I intended and the candle flames flared briefly. “Despite what I’ve taken from him.”

Bastian chuckled softly, but he said nothing in response.

I was asking for more than loyalty. I wanted a partnership.

Finally, Titus nodded, a single decisive movement. “You’ll have my counsel for what it’s worth.”

Valen’s head inclined in agreement. “And mine.”

Bastian was the last to speak. “They won’t say it. But you have our loyalty,” he said soberly. “All of us. Until the stars burn out.”

Relief washed through me, so powerful it made my knees weak.

“Thank you,” I whispered. The words were inadequate, but they were all I had to offer in that moment.

Valen reached out and took my hand and cradled it gently. “We should move quickly,” he advised. “The Necromi will be in chaos with Lucian’s death. They all felt it. They know something is wrong.”

I knew it. I’d heard their screams.

“You cut the head off the snake. We need to move quickly before another springs up in his place.” Bastian’s voice was grim.

“Bastian’s right. We need to establish your authority before anyone can challenge it,” Titus said. “The wedding guests. They’ll need to be addressed.”

“And contained,” Bastian finished.

Witnesses would need to be managed, stories controlled, allegiances secured.

I nodded, suddenly exhausted despite the power that hummed beneath my skin. “Soon,” I agreed. “But first...” I gestured to Lucian’s body, the blackened silver dagger still protruded from his chest like a grotesque ornament. “We need to dispose of him. Properly.”

“I know just the place,” Bastian said with grim satisfaction. “The family crypt has a special section for traitors and failures. He’ll fit right in.”

Titus moved to the bed and his face hardened as he looked down at his father’s corpse. Without ceremony, he yanked the dagger free of Lucian’s chest and offered it to me, hilt first. “It belongs to the grimoire.”

I accepted the blackened blade, its weight familiar now. Blood—Lucian’s blood—had seeped into the metal, darkening it further still. It was a grim keepsake, but a necessary reminder of what I’d done. What I’d become.

“Let’s go,” I said as I slipped the dagger into the hidden pocket of my wedding gown. “There’s much to be done.”

As we moved toward the door, Lucian’s corpse already forgotten behind us, I felt a strange sense of peace settle over me. The blood bond thrummed between us, stronger than ever—a connection that ensured they could never betray me. But in my heart, I knew they wouldn’t. Bond or no bond.

We had chosen each other, these three damaged men and I.

Chosen to build something new from the ashes of Lucian’s reign.

His power, all the magic he’d stolen in his cursed lifetime. It was mine… and it thrummed beneath my skin in a strange rhythm that left me breathless. But with my stepbrothers at my side, I was confident I could control it rather than be controlled by it.

Mistress of Withermarsh.

A wicked heir for the Necromi.

But most importantly, not alone.

Never again alone.

THE END

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