The wind bit at his skin as Rhydir rode through the forest path, branches clawing at his cloak like accusing fingers. The night sky loomed heavy overhead, stars drowned beneath storm clouds, and with each beat of his horse's hooves, the weight of betrayal pressed deeper into his chest.
Theron. His father. The King of Velgrave.
He had smiled—calm, composed, diplomatic—as he offered Elaria safe haven. As he proposed military support to suppress Vex's rise. To crush the very woman who had set fire to Rhydir's blood and purpose alike.
He should have expected it. His father had always played politics like chess, moving kings and queens across blood-soaked boards. But hearing it, seeing it, had carved a wound that hadn't stopped bleeding since.
"You always think with your heart," Theron had said, almost amused.
And maybe he did. Maybe he was a fool for it. But he'd rather be a fool for her than a king without a soul.
He remembered Seraphina's words. The surprise twist of alliance in her voice. The subtle smirk when she said, "I don't like men. And pretty women are far more interesting."
It hadn't been flirtation. It had been defiance. Against the crown, against her own father. A small revolution. A quiet one.
And yet now, Rhydir approached the Hollow not as a prince—but as a man torn open.
The obsidian spires of Vex's domain loomed like fangs in the distance, glowing faintly with inner fire. There was no announcement as he crossed the threshold. No guards halted him. No challenge was spoken. The Hollow knew him now. Or rather—it knew he was hers.
The throne room was empty. Shadows danced along the walls, cast by flames that never died. And then he felt her.
Vex.
She was seated by the arched windows of the upper balcony, watching the storm roll across the skies like a queen assessing the battlefield.
He didn't speak. Not yet. His heart thundered too loud.
Her eyes slid to him slowly, predator-smooth. "You look like hell."
Rhydir laughed, but it was hollow. "It's been a long day."
"I heard." Her voice was unreadable. "Seraphina left just before dawn."
Of course she knew. Vex always knew. He stepped closer, the distance between them suddenly feeling like a chasm he might not be allowed to cross.
"I came to tell you everything." His voice was lower now, rough around the edges.
She tilted her head. "Do you think I don't already know, Rhydir?"
That stopped him cold.
Her gaze held his, unblinking. "Do you think I didn't feel it the moment Velgrave shifted in Elaria's direction like a coward dog sniffing for safety?"
He swallowed hard. "My father—he made the choice without me. I wasn't in the room."
"But you're his heir," she replied, standing now, graceful and terrible in her power. "You wear his blood like a crown."
"And I came here to burn it," he said, voice breaking. "If that's what it takes to make you believe me."
She stepped down, each movement deliberate, lethal. "You think I'd leave you for what your father did?"
"I wouldn't blame you if you did." The truth of it cracked something in him. "Vex… I don't want you to doubt me. Not even for a second. Not after everything we've , you have survived."
There it was. The raw, broken truth. He loved her with the kind of desperation that made kings fear and monsters kneel. And the thought of her walking away—cold, composed, distant again—was enough to bring him to his knees.
But Vex didn't leave.
She reached out, curling her fingers into his cloak, pulling him in until their foreheads touched.
"You are mine," she whispered, voice molten. "There is no room for doubt. Not in you."
His breath caught. "They're giving him Elaria. My father wants to make Alaric a vassal. In exchange for helping him stop you."
She didn't flinch.
"I will take it from them," Rhydir swore, every word soaked in fire. "You won't have to raise a hand. I will give you Elaria not through war, but by making their walls collapse from within. I'll drag their power to your feet and you'll never have to lift a blade for it."
Vex's eyes searched his—piercing, sharp, but no longer cold. She saw him for what he was: a warrior wrapped in velvet for her, savage to everyone else.
"You'd do that?" she asked quietly.
"I already am."
She kissed him then—not a soft, tentative thing. It was a seal. A vow. Her lips were fire and he melted into her, willingly consumed.
When they parted, he whispered, "No man touches what belongs to me."
She smirked, licking a bit of blood from her bottom lip. "Careful, prince. You're sounding possessive."
"I am. Of you. Only you."
She pulled him closer again, wrapping her arms around him, letting the silence settle between them—not uncomfortable, but complete.
Outside, the storm howled.
Inside, he found calm only in her arms.
⸻
Later, as the fire burned low and the shadows thickened, Seraphina reappeared, cloaked and dry, watching them with a crooked sort of amusement.
Rhydir met her gaze. "You really switched sides in one meeting?"
Seraphina shrugged. "Let's say I was always on her side. I just didn't know it."
He narrowed his eyes. "And that epiphany struck the second she walked into the room?"
"Rhydir." She stepped forward, arms crossed. "I've lived under my father's rule my whole life. A king who sees daughters as pawns and kingdoms as chessboards. Vex… she doesn't see pieces. She sees people."
"And yet, somehow," he said, dry, "I feel like she could set a kingdom on fire just to make a point."
"That's not a flaw." Seraphina smiled, faint and sharp. "That's why I trust her."
Rhydir raised a brow. "So? What changed? What really tipped you?"
She didn't blink. "I don't like men. And she's prettier than all of you."
He blinked. "That's it?"
"No," she said. "But it helps."
He grinned, despite himself. "You're impossible."
"And yet here I am," Seraphina said, turning for the door. "With you. For her."
As she vanished down the hall, Rhydir turned back to Vex—his queen, his chaos, his calm.
"You have a way of collecting dangerous women."
Vex only smiled. "Only the ones worth keeping."