He caught it mid-strike, his grip like iron around my arm. A laugh rumbled low in his chest, dark and amused.
“There it is,” he murmured, twisting me until my spine pressed flush against him. “That spark I keep seeing.”
“Let go,” I spat, twisting hard, nails raking down his arm. He didn’t flinch—just caught both my wrists in one hand and dragged them down tight against my stomach. His other hand slid back to the laces at my spine.
“Fight all you want, Aurelia,” he murmured, voice velvet over iron. “It makes the game so much sweeter.”
I fought anyway. Kicked, strained, tried to jerk free. My heel scraped against his shin, but his grip only tightened until my ribs ached with the effort of breathing. The more I struggled, the more he seemed to savor it.
And then something in me faltered. The memory of cold stone. Iron restraints. The faceless voices telling me toyield.My vision swam, retreat threatening to drag me under.
No. Not here. Not now.
The sound of the gown unlacing cut through my haze. Each loop tugged free until the last string slipped down my back. The gown fell loose, air kissing my bare skin.
I forced my body still, locking the storm inside my chest.
Kaelith’s palms pressed low against my spine, sliding until one hand gripped my hip, the other flattening over my stomach. His breath scorched my ear, a guttural moan rumbling from deep in his chest.
“You smell divine,” he rasped, the hand on my stomach inching lower.
Fear spiked sharp, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing it bloom. I forced my shaking hand to unclench, pried it away from the bodice I clutched, and laid it atop his.
“Ah-ah,” I whispered, my voice softer than I meant but steadyenough to hold. I turned my head just enough to catch his eye, forcing my lips into a curve that felt like glass against my skin—a smile so brittle it threatened to crack.
Then—I let the dress fall. A pool of silk at my feet.
“You’ll have to be patient, Kaelith. We have a deal.”
For a flicker, he hesitated. His hands loosened, not because I’d won, but because he thought he had. The predator humored the prey when it stopped thrashing.
I stood in nothing but undergarments—the kind that left little to the imagination. My pulse rattled in my ears, rage and terror wrestling in my ribs. My mask was the only shield I had left, so I wore it, even as it cut me from the inside.
I held his gaze. Men were such simple creatures, no matter how powerful.
Let him look. He sucked in his lower lip and closed the gap between us.
“It’s a shame, really,” he murmured, dragging a finger slowly over my mouth, down my throat, tracing the jagged path of my scar all the way to my navel. “Such a pretty thing… with such a scar.” He leaned in until his breath brushed my skin. “Wear the black dress at the back of the wardrobe.” His teeth grazed the side of my neck and then he placed a soft kiss over the same spot. He lingered there, just a breath too long. His gaze flicked to mine, slow and possessive.
He ran his tongue over one sharp canine, smiled—and walked out.
I stood frozen. Still. Every muscle locked in place until the door clicked shut behind him.
Then I moved.
I rushed forward, locking the door with a shaky hand and pressing my back to it, listening. His footsteps echoed down thehall—measured, unhurried. Only when they faded completely did my legs give out.
I slid to the floor, landing hard on my knees as my hands braced against the cold stone. My breath hitched. Once. Twice.
Then it came all at once—sharp and fast and unrelenting.
My chest tightened. No matter how wide I opened my mouth, I couldn’t get enough air in. My throat burned, clenching with the effort to keep from sobbing.
The edges of my vision pulsed. My fingers curled into the stone floor, nails scraping against it as I tried to anchor myself in something real—something solid.
My heart thundered. Too loud. Too fast.
I tried to remember what Hayat had taught me. What he used to say when the world got too loud. But his voice felt far away—an echo down a tunnel I couldn’t find the end of.