Horatio lookslike he’s about to burst. A mixture of humiliation and fury runs through his features before he storms out of the room. Penelope grasps her gown in her hands and quickly dashes after her father. The doors slam shut, their echo the only sound to disturb the stillness.Sebastian takes my hand and pulls me in the opposite direction. He walks me out of the ballroom and into the main castle corridors.
“I leave for one moment to take a piss, and you’re out there waging war with one of the great Elvarran houses!” he scolds me as we continue down the hall.
“Sorry… I got a little irate,” I apologize.
“A little?” Sebastian scoffs, stopping his advancements as he turns to face me. “Raelys, you have to trust me.” He takes my face in his hands and pulls me close.
“I do trust you,” I lie. I don’t trust anyone in the North.
“Let me take care of you,” he says gently. “I can keep you safe, if you’ll allow me.”
His words stop me cold. The revelry drains from my body, leaving a raw quiet in its wake. I spent my entire life behind walls being told, and sometimes believing, that safety couldkeep me whole. But safety is nothing more than a gilded lie when we are at war. What I want now is to show my full fire: plans to topple those who keep me small. Never again will I be a fragile piece of crystal kept in the curio cabinet.
“What do you mean?” I ask softly, placing a hand on his chest. I notice his heartbeat quickens beneath my touch.
Sebastian's gaze fills with longing. His gloved thumb runs along my cheek. The gesture is soft, as if he’s worried I’ll shatter in his grasp. “That I would do anything for you,” he replies gently, tilting his face towards mine.
He’s going to kiss me. I have to play the part and smooth things over with him after slandering Horatio. It will continue to build trust with him, allowing me to utilize him later. I slowly tilt my head toward him. Sebastian doesn’t hesitate, his lips brushing against mine.
Booming footsteps echo down the hall.
Gasping, I startle away from Sebastian, my head whipping around. My body already knows who it is, adrenaline coursing through me, my heart hammering in my chest. Sebastian steps in front of me, as if to shield me from any approaching danger, but there’s no protection from the wrath that’s coming.
Wrath turns the corner with two guards at his sides— a predator closing in on its prey, measured and deliberate. He clenches his jaw tightly, holding back a fury of words. Wrath's fingers twitch at his side, as if he’s itching for a blade to sink into Sebastian’s chest.
“Escort the Duke of Ashvarin out of the castle,” Wrath commands.
“Wait!” I call out, defensively raising my hands.
Wrath lets out a sinister chuckle. “You and I are going to have a chat,Princess,” he seethes.
Glancing back at Sebastian, I see the sorrow of the kiss that was stolen from us. He opens his mouth to speak, but theguards reach him first. They press flat palms against his chest and shoulders to force him back. Sebastian goes willingly, sighing as he turns the corner, their footsteps fading down the hall.
“That’s a high-ranking member of your court. You can’t throw him out; that’s bad decorum,” I point out, hoping he’ll put an end to this. “He didn’t do anything!”
Wrath—who is currently living up to his namesake—stops before me. He is a dagger cloaked in velvet, dangerous yet alluring. Wrath’s magic rips through me so painfully that I cry out, my hands going to my throat.
“Gottfried wants me in Rykaris,” I say against my will.
“I knew it.”
“I want to be free!”
“You can’t. My magic is etched into your skin,” he says, voice deadly. “Doesn’t matter where you go in Dratheria, Raelys, my presence will cling to you like shadow to a flame.”
I hate that my skin flushes. Hate that I falter even for a moment, because it shows him how much those words affect me. They’re possessive, claiming—no one has ever spoken to me like that before, as if I were already his. And gods help me, maybe part of me wants to be.
“If you insist on keeping me here, I will bring ruin to Khalessor,” I challenge.
Wrath gives me a wolfish grin. “Do not play the games of war with me, Raelys. You will not like the outcome.”
“Is that a threat?” I ask furiously.
“It's a promise,” Wrath replies, repeating our discourse from our time at the cabin in Sinaia.
That memory feels like a lifetime ago. The naive, sheltered girl I once was has since brought ruin to a great Elvarran house—with nothing but her words. A remarkable feat for someone once taught to stay silent. We hold each other’s gazes, neitheryielding to the other as we wage a silent war of wills. Wrath’s lips press into a thin line. His posture turns rigid to maintain control. I wonder if he sees the same in me—the fire burning behind my carefully composed exterior.
“Are you jealous?” The realization dawns on me suddenly. “Go back to Penelope, yourfiancée.”
