Everything inside me goes cold.
“That’s not—” I shake my head immediately, taking a step back, my voice strained, almost breaking. “That’s not possible. I would remember if I… if I mated with Ravelle—”
Keal laughs, a short, sharp bark of cruelty.
“That’s because of the tea you drank,” he says, amusement lacing every word. “Doesn’t it feel familiar now?”
The tea. That's right.
The damn tea.
“f**k,” I breathe, the realization hitting hard—violent, suffocating. My stomach twists as I look at him, horror and rage colliding inside me. “Keal… did you—did you give me that herb? After I warned you—after I commanded you the last time to never ever interfere with my bond with Ravelle?”
My voice drops, shaking now with rage.
"Yet did you still dare drug my tea with that damn herb?"
“I assis
