Soon, dinner was finished, and we all walked toward our destination. Aurelius and I returned to our chambers—it was already quite late.
As soon as he opened the door, I slipped inside and headed straight to the balcony, needing the night breeze to cool the strange heat rising under my skin.
I leaned on the railing and closed my eyes, letting the cold wind kiss my cheeks and neck. My hair fluttered behind me as silence settled in.
Then I felt him.
Aurelius stepped behind me, his presence like fire licking at my back. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against the hard planes of his chest. My breath hitched.
"W-What do you think you're doing?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, trembling as his warmth soaked into me.
He didn't answer—at least not with words. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just beneath my ear. My eyes flew open, and I gasped as his mouth moved slowly down my neck, trailing soft, deliberate kisses.
A shiver danced down my spine.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and teasing. Then he sank his teeth into my neck—just enough to make me whimper.
"A-Aurelius…" I breathed, my knees weakening.
"Sss…" He hushed me. "Don't you think we should consummate our marriage, little rabbit?" His voice was silk-wrapped sin. "Tell me… do you want it?"
I swallowed hard, my thoughts spiraling. Do I want it? I wasn't sure. I'd never been touched like this. No one had ever made my body respond before I could even think.
And yet… I didn't pull away.
Maybe I didn't know myself as well as I thought.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to let his fingers trail from my waist to the curve of my hip. I was frozen, caught in the storm of sensations.
When I didn't answer for a long time.
Then he paused.
I felt the change instantly. He exhaled slowly, his hands retreating.
"Fine, Princess," he said, his voice a little rougher now. "I'll wait… until you're ready. After all, you're mine either way."
He turned me gently to face him, his eyes darker now, more dangerous. He lifted my chin with two fingers, holding my gaze.
"But don't make me wait too long," he whispered. "I'm not a patient man, and sooner or later… I will have every inch of you."
His smirk made something flutter low in my belly, and my cheeks burned.
I turned away, flustered, hoping he didn't see the way my legs shook beneath my gown.
He chuckled behind me, low and amused. "You're the shy type… I like that."
He walked over and stood beside me, leaning casually against the railing as he stared at me.
I still felt the heat rush to my cheeks under his gaze, so I quickly tried to change the subject.
"Is your family always like that?" I asked, meeting his eyes.
"Like what?" he replied almost immediately.
I took a sharp breath and asked, "Like… stabbing each other with words."
He chuckled. "You're funny. But no not always. Sometimes. You see, my uncle and his son's just don't quite get along with us. Still, we gather for dinners every week."
I blinked, confused. "And why is that? Do they not like you because you're not His Majesty's real son?"
He hummed, "Hmm… you could put it that way. Also, because my grandfather—the late king—didn't choose my uncle as his successor. He chose my father instead. Count Samuel, my uncle, felt wronged. He believes that as the eldest son, the throne should've been his."
Curious, I asked again, "And why didn't the king choose him?"
He blinked and shrugged lightly. "That, my dear, I don't really know. Maybe the late king didn't like the way my uncle handled things. He's the vicious type—calculating, ruthless. My father, on the other hand, is… softer. Kind. Maybe that's why."
Oh. I pressed my lips together and nodded slightly.
"Ahh, I see," I murmured.
Then came silence. Comfortable, yet lingering. Like there was more neither of us dared to say just yet.
We both stood there in silence. I was gazing out at the city lights, while he was gazing at me.
His stare felt endless—like he hadn't seen me in a thousand years. As if I were some precious gift, and he was unwrapping me slowly with his eyes, layer by layer. The way he looked at me stirred something deep in my stomach… unfamiliar, fluttering, and warm.
I couldn't take it any longer.
"It's late… we should sleep," I muttered, turning away toward the door. I needed to breathe, to break that intense gaze before it burned right through me.
I changed into my nightgown and returned quietly. When I returned he was already lying on the bed, his face turned up to the ceiling, one arm draped over his eyes. Silent. Still.
Without a word, I blew out the candles and slipped under the covers, turning my back to him. I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, even though my mind wouldn't stop racing.
The room fell into a hush.
And then, when he was certain I was deep asleep, he moved.
Aurelius had vanished into the night… like smoke.
…..
Somewhere far away, deep in the mountains.
Rain poured down in relentless sheets, and thunder growled across the sky. The earth was soaked, the scent of damp soil thick in the air.
Inside an abandoned castle—crumbling and nearly in ruins, twelve people were chained inside separate cells. Some men, some women. Their faces were smeared with blood and dirt, their bodies pale and thin, like they hadn't eaten in days.
A man named Raphel opened one of the cells and stepped inside.
He crouched down and grabbed a man Felix by the hair.
"Speak, you rats. Are you performing the ritual or not?" he growled, yanking harder.
Felix growled back and spat in his face.
Raphel gritted his teeth and slammed him to the ground.
Felix hissed in pain as he hit the floor, but Raphael didn't stop. He kicked him hard in the stomach.
"Rot here, you rat. You won't get any food."
Raphel spat on the ground beside him, then turned and walked out of the cell. But he didn't leave he moved to another one.
This time, it was a woman. Her name was Serina.
As he entered, she glared at him, defiant. "You fucking asshole. What do you want from us?"
Raphel smiled. "Little angel, didn't I already say what we want? Perform the ritual. Or did you lose your ears somewhere along the way?"
Serina scoffed. "Go to hell, you disgusting beast. You'll never get what you're looking for."
Raphel laughed, his eyes sweeping over her, dark gray eyes, long blond hair, soft pink lips… and then they lingered on her chest.
She noticed.
Immediately, Serina crossed her arms, covering herself, her expression darkening.
"You bastard," she growled. "What the hell are you staring at? I'll rip your head off."
Raphel chuckled. "You little girl… do you really think you're in any position to make threats?"
He smirked and took a step toward her.
Serina stiffened and instinctively crawled back a little. "Don't come closer, bastard. Do you really think you'll be alive if our men find us? Step back if you want to save your life."
But he didn't stop.
He moved even closer, his eyes slowly trailing down her body again.
"I must say, you're quite the beauty," he murmured. "You see, I haven't tasted a woman in a long time. How about you let me have a taste of you, and in return, I'll show you some mercy… maybe even bring you something to eat. What do you say, little angel?"
He smirked.
Serina's face twisted with pure rage, and without a second thought, she slapped him. Hard. The force of it sent him stumbling back, falling to the floor.
"Fuck off, you disgusting piece of shit!"
Raphel growled, clutching his cheek as he gritted his teeth in pain. His head snapped back toward her, eyes burning.
"You little bitch," he snarled. "I was trying to be nice because I didn't want to hurt you. And this is how you repay me?"
He shot to his feet and grabbed her chin tightly, forcing her to look at him.
"No," he hissed. "Now I'll have my way with you."
He leaned in, aiming to press his lips to hers—
But before he could touch her, the heavy cellar door creaked open and another man stepped in.
"My lord, Lord Pelion is asking to see you," the man said.
Raphel hissed under his breath. "Shit. Couldn't he find a better time to call? I was just about to have some fun."
He shoved Serina aside and stood up straight.
"What does he want now?"
"I don't know, my lord."
Without another word, Raphel stormed out of the cell and headed upstairs. He marched through the dim corridors of the ruined castle until he reached a heavy wooden door.
He pushed it open and stepped inside.
The moment he entered, he spoke, voice laced with irritation. "What is it, Pelion? Why did you call me now?"
Pelion turned toward him with a narrowed gaze.
"Raphel, how long do you need to convince them? It's been five days. We don't have much time. Our magic is wearing off—soon they'll regain their powers, and we won't be able to hold them. They'll kill us all. Do you understand? Do something. We need to perform the ritual."
Raphel cursed under his breath.
"Fuck… I've tried everything. Beat them, starved them for days, yet they still won't cooperate. Those little devils would rather die than help us."
Pelion's jaw clenched. He stepped forward and slapped Raphel across the face.
"You're telling me you can't do it? How the hell am I supposed to save my mother, then? She's dying!" he snapped.
He grabbed Raphel by the collar and spat in his face.
"I don't care what you do. I want the ritual to start tomorrow. You have until tonight to convince any of them—or you won't see tomorrow's sun. Do you understand me?"
Raphel shivered slightly. "Y-Yes, my lord. I'll try. Just… let me go first."
Pelion released him, and Raphel stumbled back, quickly turning to leave.
Once outside, Raphel cursed again and stepped into the cold air. He stood by the broken stone railings of the ruined castle, trying to clear his head. He lit a cigarette, took one drag, then tossed it away. His mind raced—what the hell was he going to do now?
As he wandered down the stone path outside the castle, something caught his eye.
A woman. Sitting under a tree near the bend of the path, tugging something from her foot.
She had silver hair that shimmered like frost and matching silver eyes. Delicate features. Calm aura.
Raphel's lips curled into a smile.
What a beauty. Today really is my lucky day.
He adjusted his coat and casually walked toward her.
"Hello, my lady. Are you lost? Can I help you?"
The woman looked up and smiled softly. "Thank you, my lord, but no need. A thorn was stuck in my foot—I've pulled it out. I'm just passing through."
Raphel blinked, intrigued. "I see. But what are you doing here alone? Are you sure you're not lost? You could stay at my place. It's nearby. I could offer you a meal, and a warm bed for the night. Then you can continue your journey in the morning. What do you say, my lady?"
The woman tilted her head, then gave a small nod and smiled.
"Can I, my lord?"
Raphel smiled triumphantly.
"Of course, my lady. Here—take my hand."
She slipped her hand into his, and he helped her up.
"Thank you, my lord."
"It's a pleasure, lady. May I know your name?" he asked smoothly, his grin widening. "I'm Raphel."
Her stomach twisted in disgust at the sound of his name, but she didn't show it.
"It's Zania, my lord."
"Zania… What a pretty name. Just like you," he said, eyes lingering a little too long on her face.
Fool, she thought, but only smiled back.
"Thank you."