Chapter 4
The meeting with his counselors had just wrapped up when Lucian entered, bowing in respect. "She's here," he announced.
Rhydian rose to his feet without hesitation. His bride-to-be.
He wasn't sure what he expected, but the need to see her pulled at him. This entire marriage wasn't supposed to happen—it was a last-ditch effort, a desperate gamble because of what the diviner had foreseen.
For over three centuries, vampires had been locked in relentless war with the dragons. The beasts believed they were destined to rule all four races, and they would not stop until they achieved their goal.
The diviner had made it clear: without the witches' magic, the vampires had no chance. If peace wasn't made now, the dragons would take everything.
And so, here he was—about to meet the woman they claimed would be their salvation.
He wasn't sure if he believed it. But what choice did he have?
As Rhydian entered the palace, his sharp gaze landed on her immediately. She stood among the maids he'd carefully selected—humans, to make her more comfortable. She wore a cloak, the hood concealing most of her features, but her posture was poised, composed. Not at all like a frightened woman thrown into enemy territory.
His eyes narrowed slightly. Not as simple as she looks. The witches wouldn't have agreed to this marriage without their own hidden agenda. Whatever they were planning, he would find out.
"Alright, Irene. I only need one plate of food, you can take the rest away," she said.
Her voice was smooth, firm, but something about the way she carried herself intrigued him.
"And who said you were eating alone?" Rhydian interrupted, stepping up behind her.
She froze. Just for a second. As if debating whether or not to turn around.
The maids, on the other hand, reacted instantly, bowing in unison. "Welcome, Your Majesty," they greeted.
He waved them off, watching as they hurriedly carried the trays into the room before leaving. Yet, even as silence settled, the witch still hadn't turned to face him.
Interesting.
After a long pause, she finally reached up, grasped the edge of her hood, and lowered it.
Then she turned to face him.
"Welcome, Your Majesty," she greeted, a polite smile gracing her lips.
And for a brief, impossible moment—Rhydian's world stopped.
What in the hell was she?
His breath hitched as his mind scrambled for logic, but nothing made sense. She was breathtaking. No, otherworldly.
Silver hair that shimmered even in the dim lighting.
Eyes—those eyes—so vividly violet they seemed unreal. Like a spell had been woven into them, trapping anyone foolish enough to look too long.
He had never seen an angel before, but in that moment, he was certain they existed.
Then he caught the flicker of surprise in her gaze, as if she hadn't expected him to be here either.
Rhydian quickly forced himself to regain control, clearing his throat as his expression hardened back into indifference.
He took a step closer, easily hearing the rapid pounding of her heart. Was she afraid?
"If you don't mind, we can have dinner together," he said, his voice even. He wasn't used to being polite. He never had been. But she was a guest—one he couldn't afford to terrify. Not yet.
"I don't mind," she replied, her smile still soft, but he saw through it instantly.
Fake.
He'd met enough women who pretended to be delicate, who thought acting sweet would get them on his good side. It was nauseating.
Still, he let it slide. For now.
Turning, he strode into the room, and she followed. As soon as the door shut behind them, he turned again, watching her carefully.
Since she wanted to play the role of a meek, submissive bride, he could have a little fun teasing her. See how long she could keep up the act.
Slowly, he stalked toward her, his movements deliberate.
She didn't flinch.
Instead, she stood her ground, watching him just as intently. Her expression unreadable, her violet eyes impossibly empty.
Not so delicate after all, huh?
When he stopped mere inches from her, he reached out, catching her chin between his fingers. Tilting it up, he gazed into those hypnotic eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Purple, huh? Very unique," he murmured, his eyes drifting lower—to her lips.
Rosy red. Plump. Incredibly tempting.
He wasn't planning on doing anything. Just teasing her. Pushing her until she willingly dropped the pretense.
But then—she bit her lip.
A small, nervous act.
Yet, it sent a sharp jolt through him, something dark and primal unfurling deep within his core.
Lust.
A sudden, intense hunger coiled in his gut, demanding, insistent.
Shit.
He hadn't felt this way in a long time.
His fingers slid from her chin to the back of her neck, pulling her just a little closer. His breath ghosted against her ear, feeling the way she stiffened beneath his touch.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, voice thick with something darker. "These lips... so damn tempting. I want to kiss them so badly."
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She was nervous.
Good.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in the lightest of teases, testing her.
And then—
She moved.
Gripping the fabric of his robe, she yanked him forward and crushed her lips against his.
Rhydian froze for a split second, utterly caught off guard.
Then, everything snapped.
A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him completely.
The teasing was over.
Now, he was going to devour her.