Page 71 of Blood Marked

The walls blurred. Her knees hit the stone. And everything inside her screamed.

Because he hadn’t just broken her heart.

He’d done itpublicly.

And worse?

He made it look like it had never been whole to begin with.

He used me.

The thought wouldn’t stop circling. It gnawed through her bones, coiled in her chest like venom, whispering and whispering until it drowned everything else.

She tried to breathe past it. Tried to summon the rational voice that told her Kael had done this to protect her. But that voice was quiet now. Silenced by the weight of his words still ringing in her ears.

Forged in necessity.She does not represent this court.

She replayed everything.

The kisses—rough and reverent. The way his fingers had lingered when he thought she was asleep. The ache in his voice when he said he was falling for her. The bond. Thesecond seal.The way their magic had locked together like puzzle pieces finally finding home.

The way he’d looked at her after she tore open the Veil. Like she was something rare. Sacred. The way he’d held her in the forest—wrapped in his arms, his hands trembling against her skin.

Like she was his.

It had to have been real.

It had to have been.

Unless… Unless it was all part of the plan. Forge the bond to solidify the alliance. Make her feel safe. Make her fall. Win her loyalty, her trust, herpower.

Then, when the Rising Flame closed in—cut her loose. Make a public show of it. Distance himself to shield the throne, the court, the name. Remove the stain of human-blood ties before he claimed the mountain.

Before he claimed a new bride.

Someone noble-born. Someone unburdened by prophecy and politics. Someone clean.

Selene swallowed hard, her stomach lurching.

She knew Kael hated the prophecy. Had seen the way his jaw clenched whenever someone dared to name it aloud. Had heard the bitterness when he talked about fates chosen before birth. But had he really hatedherfor being a part of it? So much that he’d played her from the beginning? So much that he’d let her think—hope—that what they had was real, only to cast her aside in the name of strategy?

Her eyes burned.

She stood and paced, her hands shaking, her breath catching like it didn’t know whether to break into sobs or screams.

Keep the throne clean. Unmarked. Untainted by her bloodline.

Because she wasn’t just inconvenient now—she was dangerous. She was power he couldn’t control. Fire he couldn’t cage.

Her hands curled into fists. She pressed them against her chest, over the place where the bond mark still pulsed faintly beneath her skin.

Still there. Still tethered. But now? Now it felt like a chain.

Cold. Heavy. Branded onto her not by love or fate, bututility.And it disgusted her.

She didn’t cry.

Gods, she wanted to. The burn behind her eyes swelled so hot it made her vision blur. Her chest ached from holding it back. But her rage was louder. Hotter. Sharper.

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