Chapter Eighty-Three

Remi's POV:

The servants had bathed me, soft hands working with practiced precision, scrubbing away the remnants of exhaustion from my body as the warm water soothed my muscles. Now, I sit alone in my room, the flickering of candlelight casting long shadows across the lavish, sprawling chambers that belong to no one else but me. The windows are wide open, the cool mountain breeze gently sweeping in, carrying the scent of pine and snow, mingled with the faint trace of burning wood from the hearth.

According to Keiran’s new rules for the Midnight Court, I had slept all day, rising only as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air here, cool and crisp, feels like a fresh start—a change I wasn’t sure I needed but now find myself craving. The sunset paints the mountains outside in soft pinks and deep blues, and I can’t help but appreciate the beauty of it all. It’s peaceful. Quiet in a way I didn’t expect, and the serenity feels so foreign compared to the oppressive warmth of my mother’s court.

Back there, everything was white and gold—golden sunlight blinding, burning, always too much. The light was suffocating, the demands endless. Here, the nights are longer, cooler, and there is a hum of magic that vibrates in the air, a stillness that allows me to breathe. I could almost see myself giving up the sun forever for Keiran and the Midnight Court.

The thought lingers, heavy in my chest, even as I shift in the armchair by the window, the delicate cup of tea resting in my hands. The warm liquid steams in front of me, but it does little to quell the fire that smolders deep inside. I’m not who I was when I first arrived here, though I still see traces of the girl who was an offering. A prisoner. A sacrifice.

A soft sigh escapes my lips, and I trace the rim of the cup with my thumb, my thoughts drifting to the letter I received today—one from my mother. I hadn’t expected to hear from her, not after everything that’s transpired, but there it was, in my hands, the familiar scent of her perfume still lingering on the parchment.

Her words echo in my mind:

"The pressure from the other courts grows stronger with each passing day. They demand you return to them, Remi. Your place is here with us, as it always should have been. Come home, where you can be safe. We’ll offer you the support you need to navigate what’s to come."

I almost laugh, but it’s bitter, the sound foreign in this room that feels like it’s holding me captive in a different way. Back home, my mother and my sisters barely knew I existed beyond my usefulness. But now, when they see what I’ve become, they want me back? To what end? So I can sit pretty on some gilded throne, surrounded by light and gilded promises? I wonder if they even see me, or if I’m still just an asset to be managed.

My hand tightens around the tea cup as my mind spirals into doubt. The four of them—Keiran, the twins, and even Xaden—love me. I don’t doubt that. In some twisted, dark way, I can feel it from all of them. But how much of that love is for me? How much is for the woman they think I should be? I think of Xaden—his rough kiss, the bite he left on my neck, his confession of love. The burn of his fangs still lingers there. I touch my neck absently, remembering the way his hands had gripped me so possessively, so desperately.

Does it mean something, that kiss? Or was it just another game in this twisted, tangled mess of power and desire?

I know the twins love me, too. I can see it in the way they fight over me, the way they tease and care for me. I’ve never been treated like this before—like I belong. Not even from my own family. They were too busy taking what they could, using me for their own gain, their own power. But here, with them? I feel seen, in a way that terrifies me.

And then there’s Keiran. Always so confident, so certain of what he wants. The other night, when he moved into the old wing of the castle, his arrogance felt like a force of nature. I can’t deny the pull he has over me.

But now he wants more. Much more.

I rub my temple, trying to suppress the tightness in my chest. He wants me to publicly devote myself to him—submit, in front of everyone, to the life he’s building here. I can feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me like a thousand stones. To wear his mark. To wear his collar—the black diamond necklace he’s sent me today. His mother’s necklace, it was. A gift, he called it. But I see the truth in it: a collar is a collar.

Wearing it would mark me as his. The world would know. There would be no turning back. I’d belong to him, in every way.

I pick up the necklace from the desk where it rests, the black diamond gleaming darkly in the low light. It feels cold to the touch, as cold as the silence that surrounds me. It’s a piece of history, of Keiran’s power, and it’s meant to bind me to him.

I know what it means. I know how it will hurt Xaden if I wear it. I know how it will change everything. But I can’t be the weak girl anymore. The girl they all overlooked.

I came here as a prisoner. An offering. A sacrifice. I’m not that girl anymore.

The woman I am now? She’s not afraid. She’s not going to be anyone’s pawn. She’s not going to let her mother’s demands, or Xaden’s love, or even the twins’ jealousy dictate her path.

I close my eyes and let out a slow breath.

I’ve come too far to turn back.

But I don’t know if I’m strong enough for what I must do.

I glance over at the dress laid out on the bed—a revealing black gown, soft but daring. The fabric clings in all the right places, the neckline plunging deep enough to leave little to the imagination. If I wear this, I will mark myself as Keiran’s, a public acknowledgment that I belong to him. To wear this would be to step into my own power, but at what cost? To Xaden? To the twins? To myself?

The room feels smaller now, the decision closing in on me like a cage. But I won’t be the weak girl anymore. I won’t let my mother’s demands shape me, nor let the fear of hurting those I care about stop me from claiming my own destiny.

Keiran is right. The Midnight Court is mine to take. And I will take it.

Here, the night welcomes me. Here, the shadows cradle me in ways the sun never could. Maybe, for the first time, I can actually _feel_ what it means to be free. Maybe I could leave the sun behind forever for this—this embrace of the night. For Keiran, for the power this place offers. For the control I could have over my own destiny.

I let out a soft breath as I look down at the cup of tea resting in my hands. The warmth is comforting, but it’s fleeting, the uncertainty gnawing at my insides.

I let my mothers word swirl in my mind once more, the bitterness of them thickening the air around me. _Safe?_ Safe. I snort quietly to myself, a bitter laugh. The same mother who couldn’t be bothered to look my way for years, the same sisters who only ever saw me as a tool to be wielded, now want me back? _Safe_?

What would she think of me now? What would my mother say if she saw me wearing the black diamond necklace Keiran sent me, the one that used to belong to his mother? The one that symbolized submission, obedience, and ownership. The one that would mark me as his.

Would she judge me for it? Would my sisters? I can already hear their voices in my head. They’d sneer, call me weak. They’d say I’m nothing but a whore, just like they always did when I made my choices. Just like they would’ve judged me from the start, when I bent on my knees the first time Keiran came for me, when I let him press his thumb inside of me, when I let him claim me in ways I was too desperate to refuse.

Maybe I _am_ a whore. Maybe that’s all I ever was—nothing more than an object to be owned, to be used. But maybe that makes me more powerful than they’ll ever understand. Maybe, in my darkness, I’ve found a power they could never fathom.

I run my hand down the smooth surface of the necklace, the black diamond gleaming under the soft candlelight. Maybe I am a twisted person—a dark soul who came from a home of sunlight and flowers but now prefers the kiss of the night. The dark kiss of night.

I’m no longer that little girl. I’m not that weak, pathetic thing who used to let others define her. I’m stronger now. I have a choice, and I’ve made it. I slide the necklace around my neck, the cold weight of the diamond pressing into my skin, marking me as Keiran’s.

And when I look at myself in the mirror, the reflection staring back at me is a stranger—a woman I barely recognize but whose power I can now feel surging beneath my skin. I admire her, for the first time in my life. Her body, her strength, the way she stands tall, unafraid. I admire the choices she’s made, the path she’s carved for herself.

Never again will I be that weak, little girl. I will not be the girl they could manipulate and discard. I will not let my past define me.

I run my fingers down the length of the necklace, feeling its cool, smooth surface against my skin, the weight of it settling heavily on my shoulders. This is no longer a symbol of my past. It is a declaration of my future.

For the first time, I feel my power.

I stand taller, a fire igniting deep in my chest. I will be the queen of this court, the one who chooses her own fate. And if Keiran is part of that, so be it. If the twins are part of that, so be it. If Xaden remains in my life, if his love is real, then so be it. But I will not be weak.

I am not afraid anymore.

This necklace, this dress, this power—it's all mine now. It's mine to wield as I see fit. And no one, not even my mother or my sisters, will take that from me. They can keep their light, their warmth. I’ll stay here, in the shadows, where I can finally breathe.

And as I look at myself in the mirror, my reflection no longer seems like a stranger. It feels like home.

With a steady hand, I slide the necklace over my neck, the weight of it settling around me like an anchor.

A collar. A chosen collar.

For and from the man who came in the middle of the night to steal me away.

I'm dazzling in the mirror. Sexy, self-assured.

And for the first time in my entire life, I feel like I might finally be free.