The Unclaimed Consort

My fingers continued their search through the crystalline water. The mark I bore was not one his devices could perceive.

“I require no protection from you,” I said, my voice quiet but clear.

Tom stared, caught between horror and a macabre curiosity. “Do you understand what unclaimed means here? You are not even a servant. You are… available. Any one of these nobles could take you, and no House would raise a hand in protest.”

Mia glided forward, silk whispering warnings. “See reason, Rowling—you’re human. Your bloodline is common, and your life is a heartbeat in our eternity. Tom offering his mark now is an act of divine mercy. Drop this suicidal pride before it kills you."

The surrounding vampires watched, their amusement a palpable scent in the air.

“A mortal, daring to scorn a Lord…”

“A human who fantasizes that she can win the love of a lord?”

“Look at her pitiful appearance. Over the past few years, she may have been groveling like a stray dog, searching for leftovers.”

“Humans are for sustenance or sport. Nothing more.”

Then—my fingertips met a familiar, smooth contour. The tourmaline.

I lifted it from the water, its inner light soft and steady in my palm. A quiet peace settled over me.

At the same time, the tourmaline glowing with a blinding, rhythmic light that pulses in sync with my heartbeat.

The whispers around became louder, with a hint of greed in their tone.

“Why is the radiance of this tourmaline so similar to that legendary artifact?”

“But isn't that artifact already lost? How could it be in the hands of a human.”

“It must have been stolen by her from the lord! It's normal for some immortal artifacts to be kept in the ancient bloodline.”

“You're right, this must have been stolen.”

Before I could move, an icy hand shackled my wrist, wrenching me upright to face the crowded hall.

“Rowling,” Tom’s voice boomed, resonant with condemnation. “You threw away my shelter for pride. Now you stand alone, claimed by no one, and still hold an artifact that you stole from somewhere unknown. This is the fate you chose!”

“Let me go, Tom.”

“Go? To what death?” His grip turned crushing. “I am offering you a final kindness. Kneel. Swear fealty. And present the artifact with both hands. I may yet grant you a place within my walls—as a servant. It is more than you deserve.”

I studied his face—the arrogance, the hollow certainty. The man I knew was gone. “I told you. I am not unprotected and the artifact is not stolen by me, it is given to my son by someone else.”

“By whom?!” he thundered. The full, crushing weight of his lineage’s power erupted, slamming into the room. Guards collapsed. Mia cried out, stumbling back.

“Who else could possibly want you? A discarded, mortal woman! Who can give an artifact to a non -pure- blood child? Who else would shield you from this world but me?”

The pressure broke against me, dissolving into nothing. From the depths of my being, an older, deeper power stirred—not a shield, but a presence, vast and silent and waiting.

“Because,” I said, meeting his furious, bewildered gaze, “my bond is already spoken for. I have a blood-bond mate. He is also the one who provides artifacts.”

Tom’s hand fell away as if scalded. Silence, absolute and deep, swallowed the grand lobby, while the older, more powerful vampires in the room start to look paler because they thought of a rare possibility.

“You are human,” he breathed, the words tinged with a dawning, terrifying awe. “A human cannot be a true mate. It is forbidden by ancient law… Who would dare?”