My mind is reeling as I clutch onto the lapels of Kilian's black jacket, his steel daggers digging into my thigh slightly. He's inhaling my fragrance as the skirt of the beautiful blue dress that Callence gifted me is splayed out onto his lap.

Wrong. This feels so wrong.

I can't shake the repulsion that's instant in my throat as I think of how being clutched intimately like this would make my fated mate feel, and the urge to cry slams into me even more abruptly. Stop. Make it stop. This isn't who I am. This isn't all I am.

Kilian groans softly as his nails dig into my hips, his eyes soft brown as he moves his hand to grasp my chin; but I jerk away from his touch.

His eyes harden slightly, but he licks his lips tenderly as he watches me underneath thick lashes.

"Tell me you were going to choose me. Say it again." He murmurs, but I find that I physically can't speak. I couldn't lie again. My head becomes dizzied as I stare into the eyes of a man that I could've sworn I'd been falling in love with before the mate bond clicked.

"You tell me something first." I say coldly.

"Did you really kill those innocents?" I watch him intently is his eyes flicker over my face, scanning it as if I hadn't said anything at all.

Then finally, he blows out a soft breath.

"If you must know," he says lowly. "Innocents aren't important in the bigger scheme of things. Errands such as those were impertinent to me becoming king of the underworld. It's the way things are." He speaks to me as if I were a child being scolded, and I have to warn myself again. Just because his eyes are back to brown doesn't mean that he's magically back to the same demon. He still speaks the same way as he was before he'd slit my father's throat— or, the illusion, wasn't it?

Errands. I'm disgusted with how he'd used the word, as if slaughtering children was something unimportant; like a grocery list.

My head felt like it was going to explode, but before I could say another word— the vision appeared before us in the darkness, like it always did.

Swirls of grey begin to materialize into storm clouds on the sky, and then I'm watching a scene unfold quietly.

A large grassy field is upon us, as we watch atop a hill— rows and rows of warriors are fighting. Bulky wolves clawing out intestines of demons and witches chanting incantations loudly against trolls marching the plains.

I can't tell anyones side, but I'm familiar with the witches and wolf warriors; miles across the field I hear an ear shattering yell and snap my neck up at the familiarity.

"Claire!" Atticus roars as I watch a familiar blonde woman give a watery smile, clutching her pregnant stomach as a white haired woman stands above her, jewel filled sword drawn and about to cleave it into the back of Claire's scalp as warriors hold her down.

My own stomach threatens to spill its contents as I watch helplessly; becoming both emotional and breathless at the same time.

No. No. No. This is another future vision.

I glance around the battlefield, trying to find myself, or anyone in familiarity that can help, but I find myself empty handed.

Claire was going to die in the war, with a pregnant stomach and a tearful gaze. My heart lurches painfully as the woman moves to bring the blade down, but I look away like a coward and seek Kilian's eyes.

We stare at each other as I swallow thickly, but he just hums in approval.

"You aren't in this vision, which means you, my beautiful Viola, will be on the frontlines with me. Under my protection. A true queen." He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear as I find myself shaking slightly.

"But she's a Phoenix— she," he cuts me off with his sharp grin.

"Ah, yes. Well, the blade we're using works against magical things such as that." He says pleasantly.

"You won't have to share the throne with the other dimensions royalty, they'll all be ours." He purrs out as I scramble for any semblance of what to say or do next.

All I've ever wanted was my family together. He can't think I'd want this, he can't. Unless— unless he was too blinded by his own greed.

A blade. He'd said 'we' have a blade that can kill Claire. I straighten and force myself to give him a dazzling smile, forcing a dazed look into my eyes that calls for another hum of approval as he leans toward my lips.

I stiffen but force myself to relax.

"And Echo?" I pull away before his lips can meet mine with faux concern, eyebrows furrowing as I stare into his eyes innocently.

"I thought—" I force myself to look down in makeshift sadness as he pulls my chin back up with his fingers.

"A mere placeholder." He reassures me. "But she isn't you." He finishes as I give him an attempt at what I'd think was a shy smile. That hadn't stopped you from bedding her, did it? From forming a relationship behind my back?

My mind calls for Callence, but I swallow slightly and force my plan to continue in discomfort.

"You know," I choose my words carefully.

"I need to see my father alive to believe you." I glare at him as he chuckles, but the hatred behind my gaze isn't a faux emotion. My insides burn with distaste, and the emotional turmoil reeling in me as I find my soul screaming for it's other piece in the back of mind.

I suppose being Kilian's queen would've appealed to me before Callence, but the thought of being on the wrong side of the war— of Claire and my niece or nephew being slaughtered because of a stupid throne; well, that just makes me want to burn Kilian's kingdom to the ground.

No, I think to myself, I'd never choose this, even before Callence.

"Your father is just as he was in the hospital wards of the inn. I never touched a hair on his little head." He says as he kisses my cheek softly.

"Although I should've after he'd left me to rot in that grimoire for years." He finishes grimly as my ear tweaks at that reminder.

How could I have forgotten? Kilian could be concealed in a book, one that my very own father owned.

This war could be ended with a book— just as it started; and it was all my doing, the moment I'd even begin to stare at his picture in the book.

"Thankyou." I say, biting my lip as he grins at me, yet, I don't find my chest filling with air like how it does when Callence gives me his dimpled grin.

"Kilian, who was that woman? The white haired one?" I ask cautiously, not knowing how he'd respond to that peak of curiosity as the portal ends, and we're plopped onto a large four poster bed in the same position.

"The woman? Oh, my aunt." He sobers up as I swallow yet again, my throat drying as he speaks up again, pride lighting up his eyes slightly.

"They call her Mother Recluse."

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