My hands tightened further in my sleeves, fabric twisting beneath my grip as I forced myself to straighten my spine, lifting my chin in a poor imitation of confidence. I took one step, then another, boots whispering against the stone as I moved down the path the soldiers had now opened for me.
With every step, I saw more of him.
The way he lounged on the throne, the subtle tension beneath his stillness, the violence contained within him. Power rippled beneath his skin in faint with every tiny movement of his.
And gods help me, I could not deny it.
Despite the fear curling tight in my chest, despite the anger simmering beneath it, despite the image of Atlas that rose unbidden in my mind, there was a pull there I could not ignore. An attraction, so sharp, so dangerous and wholly inappropriate. One rooted in the confidence that rolled off him in waves, inthe arrogance of a man who knew beyond doubt that he was untouchable.
His gaze dropped then, just briefly, and I realized with a jolt that he had noticed my hands. The way my fingers were clenched white knuckled in the sleeves of my dress. That knowing curve of his mouth deepened, satisfaction flickering in his eyes as if he had found exactly what he was looking for.
Heat crept into my cheeks.
I released the fabric abruptly, forcing my hands to relax at my sides, fingers uncurling as I steadied my breathing and lifted my chin a fraction higher. If he was going to see my fear, it would not be because I handed it to him so easily.
However, what I had done only amused him more.
His eyes traced me, taking in every inch with a thoroughness that made my skin react. I felt stripped bare under that attention, exposed and seen in a way that left me acutely aware of my own heartbeat. Of my own breath, my own very mortal presence standing before something ancient and beautiful.
Only then did the throne room itself begin to register around him, the vastness of it. The towering stone columns etched with serpents and vines, the floor veined like living roots spreading outward from the dais. But all of it was secondary.
Because every thought I had, every breath I drew, circled back to the man on the throne. To the King of this watching me with open interest and quiet, terrifying control.
I drew in a breath, steadying myself, my pulse hammering painfully in my ears as I reached the point before the dais where the path ended. The stone floor stretched wide beneath my feet. The silence pressed in on me from every direction, heavy with expectation, with judgment, with the awareness that I stood alone in front of the king of an unconquerable kingdom.
I opened my mouth, getting out only one word.
“I…”
The sound that cut through the air was unmistakably displeased.
A single click of the tongue.
It froze me where I stood.
When he spoke, his voice rolled through the chamber low and deep enough that it seemed to vibrate in my chest. The sound carried authority so effortlessly that my spine stiffened instinctively.
“Tell me, does your kind not kneel before royalty?”
Heat flooded my face, humiliation and fear tangling painfully in my stomach.
Oh shit.
I had made a mistake.
My hands trembled as I gathered the skirt of my dress, lifting the fabric just enough to allow myself to move without stumbling, and then I lowered myself carefully until one knee met the cold, stone floor. The chill bit through the fabric immediately as I bowed my head and held myself still, every muscle tight with the effort not to flinch.
The silence stretched again.
But then,I heard him move.
The sound of footsteps echoed through the vast chamber. Each step closing the distance between us with terrifying inevitability. My heart pounded harder with every step, my breath shallow as I stared at the stone floor beneath me, refusing to look up. As if knowing instinctively that whatever awaited my gaze would be too much, too soon.
He stopped in front of me.
I sensed him there before I saw him, the weight of his presence settling over me like a physical force. Then his hand came into my vision, strong fingers closing around my chin with firm authority as he tilted my face upward.
I gasped, breath catching as my eyes met his.
