Page 43 of Branded By Shadow
Elara stepped forward, her expression grim. “Everyone out. Now.”
A guard hesitated, his uncertainty a palpable wave in the air. “Madam, the perimeter—”
“Do as she says,” I growled, a guttural sound that tore something loose in my chest. The staff retreated without question, leaving only Elara, Cora, and myself in the vast hall.
“This isn’t right, Damon,” Elara said, scanning me from head to toe with concerned eyes. “Your rut cycle wasn’t due for weeks.”
“Something accelerated it,” I shot back between gritted teeth. The Council summons. The confrontation.Her.“I can control it.”
Even to my own ears, my lie didn’t sound convincing. Elara didn’t let me get away with it. “Not here. Not like this,” she insisted, already moving toward the corridor leading to the private wing. “Master suite. Now.”
It would have been stupid to dig my heels in. She was right, and we both knew it.
As we left the foyer, heat built beneath my skin, sweat beading on my forehead despite the deepening cold. Each step weighed on me, making me feel like a particularly frail version of Atlas. It was only Cora’s lingering presence that kept me going.
The Blackwood portraits on the walls seemed to follow our progress, their eyes lost in deep shadow. My connection to the Shadow Realm screamed, as if my ancestors were reaching out to me.
Every sound amplified beyond reason. The whisper of Cora’s clothing, Elara’s controlled breathing, the shifts in air pressure. My vision sharpened until I saw details in the deepest corners that should have remained hidden.
Elara shoved the doors to the master suite open, the heavy wood groaning. The familiar space was already a whirlwind of activity. Servants moved with a hushed efficiency that grated on my raw nerves. The bathroom door stood open, the massivestone bath already filling with water and ice. The bedroom walls seemed to press inward, the familiar space of the suite suddenly suffocating.
Cora watched the frantic preparations, her face increasingly pale. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice a fragile thread in the charged air.
“Ice bath,” Elara explained without looking up from the swirling water. “A traditional House Hades method for rut management.”
“That’s torture,” Cora croaked out, her eyes wide with horror. “The temperature shock… It could kill someone.”
“He’s not just anyone,” Elara said, gesturing for more ice. “He’s a House Hades Alpha in rut. The cold is the only thing that can anchor him. Trust me.”
Cora grimaced, but didn’t protest further. She didn’t have much of a choice. “Assuming this works… How long will the effects last?”
“It varies. Enough for the Council, if we’re lucky.”
A vague answer, but it was the only one we had. Our ruts ran hotter than those of the other houses, and my recent reaction was unprecedented. At this point, there was no telling what would happen.
Another surge of heat ripped through me, and the light from the fixtures above us died completely. The servants quickened their pace, exchanging nervous glances as they finished. The massive stone bath was nearly full now, ice catching the remaining light.
“Everyone out once the bath is prepared,” Elara ordered, checking the water temperature.
The servants fled, but Elara wasn’t so easily dissuaded. “I’m not going anywhere, cousin. This can be dangerous. You have to be monitored.”
“And I will be. But not by you.”
The command vibrated from my chest, and the darkness on the floor flowed toward Cora. Not threatening, but claiming. “She stays. You go.”
Elara’s gaze traveled from Cora and me. She still had doubts. How could she not? But she was an Alpha in her own right, and she knew that right now, the last thing I needed was for someone to challenge me in my own territory.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, she gave a single, sharp nod. Without a word, she backed out of the room. The door shut behind her with a decisive click.
The fire in my blood roared in the sudden silence, clawing for purchase. I tore my clothes off, the fabric an agony against my oversensitive skin, and dropped them to the floor.
Across the room, Cora turned away, giving me a measure of privacy. But I could feel her watching, could sense the weight of her stare on my back. It was an intimacy more potent than any touch.
My first step into the bath was a violent shock, but I forced myself to endure it. I submerged myself completely, gripping the stone edges as every muscle in my body seized. The void reached for me, the same devouring cold that had taken my father.
For several moments, pain obliterated everything. My body convulsed, a battleground between the fire in my blood and the icy water. Then, through the agony, a sliver of clarity returned. The chaotic shadows in the room stabilized, the roar of the void receding into quieter whispers.
Water sloshed against the bath’s rim, the sound unnaturally loud. Ice chunks floated around me, melting faster than they should have, steam rising from my skin in ghostly trails.
