“He’ll kill you, too.”
My lips curled into a sneer, sharp with rage. “I don’t care,” I spat. “I’m going to be with Lord Balthazar. No matter what.”
Papa’s mouth drew into a stiff line. He said nothing more.
We continued the journey in silence—an unbearable, echoing silence that made the air between us feel colder with every passing mile.
I sat beside him, fuming. Burning.
For years, I’d toyed with lovers like a cat with mice—testing their limits, feeding on their desperation to please me. None had ever satisfied me. None had evermatchedme.
Until Balthazar.
He was dark, unpredictable, unstoppable.
I didn’t trust him. Not because of the rumors that clung to him like a shadow, but because I couldnevertell what he truly wanted. Not even when he was inside me, not even when he whispered my name like a prayer; his eyes always held something back.
A secret. A shield.
And it drove me mad.
I was in love with him. Terrified of him. Obsessed with him.
And more than anything… I wanted to control him.
To unravel every secret he kept. To own every piece of him—his thoughts, desires, and past. To make himneedme in a way he couldn’t escape. To make sure he couldneverleave me.
How?
I didn’t know.
But I would find a way.
Ihadto.
Chapter 8
Balthazar
The late afternoon air was thick with the cloying scent of sweet orange and musky incense. Laughter and the gentle trickle of fountains echoed through the sun-drenched streets, an irritating backdrop to an otherwise garish display of joy. Cobblestone paths led through vibrant market stalls, each bursting with color and noise. Street performers gathered in plazas, strumming lutes and juggling for coins while merchants barked out prices to passersby.
It was revolting.
Too cheerful. Too loud. Tooalive.
Glowering, I stalked through the marketplace with Alina at my side, her hand tucked neatly into the crook of my elbow like a charming lover on a proper stroll. And yet, every few steps, her gaze would drift toward the men we passed—men who didn’t even try to hide their lust.
Despite the clear sign she belonged to me, they ogled her openly, shamelessly. Her beauty was impossible to ignore—graceful, radiant, commanding. They would have fallen to their knees if she had so much as smiled in their direction.
And she knew it.
Shethrivedon their attention.
Two fools shoved each other over her, snarling like dogs in heat. The sight of it sent an arrow of irritation through my chest.
I sneered.
Alina, ever amused, let out a soft laugh at the spectacle before turning back to me. Her gossamer green silk dress clung to her bodice, then flared into a wide skirt that swayed with every step. The neckline dipped just enough to tease, revealing the barest curve of her perfect breasts.
