Page 41 of Shifting Desire
Chapter Eighteen
Malichai
For Her, I Burn
They say a dragon'strue hoard isn't gold or jewels.It's what he’d destroy the world to protect.For a thousand years, I thought my hoard was power.Territory.Legacy.But I was wrong.It's her.
Arinaghwyndrelle Caelthrone.
My mate.My queen.And tonight, our world will finally understand what that means.
The Council Hall is a cold stone cathedral carved into the bones of the city.Hidden beneath Brooklyn’s oldest cemetery, wrapped in ancient spells and guarded by blood magic, it hasn’t been opened in nearly two centuries.
But we open it now.Because when the balance of power shifts, the monsters must gather.And make no mistake—tonight, the monsters will kneel.Or die.
Ari stands beside me, wrapped in midnight silk and steel.Her eyes, one blue, one green, glow with quiet fury.She doesn’t hide who she is anymore.She radiates it.
Fae fire.Human heart.Dragon’s mate.
The room falls silent as we enter.Ten thrones line the outer curve of the circular chamber.The Council of Supernaturals, vampire elders, wolf alphas, ancient fae lords, witches older than sin, watch us with narrowed eyes and tight grips on their power.
They’re afraid.Good.They fucking should be.
Tavian and Dax take position behind us, flanking the stairs like sentinels of war.The moment I take the center floor, the air shifts.Tension sharpens and magic coils.
The vampire elder speaks first.“We weren’t informed you would be bringing ...company.”Disdain drips from his words as he dismisses my mate.
I look to Ari.Let her answer.
Her voice rings out, clear, and lethal.“That’s because I’m not company.I’m his mate.And your new queen.”
A ripple moves through the room.The fae lord rises next, his smile a razor’s edge.“A half-breed?You expect us to acknowledge that as royalty?”
Before I can respond, Ari does.She lifts her hand and lets her magic flare bright and wild and impossible to ignore.“I’m not asking for your permission,” she says.“I’m telling you what is.”
The flames that dance around her fingertips aren’t fae blue or dragon red.They’re white-hot.Pure.Unclaimed by any single bloodline.They’re hers.And that makes them stronger than any of us ever knew.
The room shakes with it, with her untamed, untapped power.
“You want tradition?”she says.“Let’s start with this—when a queen rises beside her king, the world doesn’t ask why.It learns to kneel.”
