The ballroom was a war zone wrapped in silk. Every eye a sniper, every whisper a bullet aimed straight at me. I stood in the corner, pretending to study the carved wood paneling, but I wasn't fooling anyone. Least of all myself.
The nobles' voices slithered through the air, dripping venom like cheap wine.
"Poor Halewyn girl," a lady in emerald cooed, her fan fluttering like a vulture's wings. "Tied to that demon. He burned entire villages, you know. She'll be crushed under that crown by week's end."
Another, a lord with a mustache like a bad omen, leaned in. "She's too fragile. Selene Dorne? Now she could handle the prince's… needs. Strength for a king, not this wilting flower."
My heart did a backflip, slamming against my ribs. Cael, a monster? The rumors weren't new, whispers of his cursed blood, his ruthless campaigns. But hearing it now, with his ring on my finger, hit different. My brain screamed run, but my stupid heart kept replaying his voice: Petal.That sad boy from years ago, laughing when I tripped over flowers.
Was he really the demon they claimed? Or was I just losing it?
Across the room, Selene Dorne stood like a queen-in-waiting, her golden gown catching the chandelier light. Her eyes burned daggers, sharp enough to melt glass. She leaned toward a noble wife, whispering something that made the woman glance at me with pity. Bitch. Selene's smirk said it all: You're no queen, Elianna.
My wineglass trembled in my hand, nearly cracking under my grip. Fear clawed my chest, but something else burned hotter. Anger. They thought I was weak? A pawn? Screw that. I straightened, forcing my voice low but steely. "Watch your tongue. That's the Crown Prince; your future king."
The words landed like a blade. The lady's fan froze mid-flutter. The lord choked on his wine. Gasps rippled through the crowd. I kept my chin up, even as my knees wobbled. Underdog mode: activated.
From the throne's shadow, Cael's head tilted. His eyes—ice and fire at once—locked on me. A smirk curled his lips, like he'd just seen something delicious. My pulse spiked. Oh no. He heard me.
He didn't ask. He never did.
The crowd parted like a tide as Cael stalked toward me, his black velvet doublet absorbing the light. The ballroom's chatter died, replaced by the dark swell of orchestral music. He extended a gloved hand, not a request, a command. My heart was a war drum, but I took it, because what else do you do when a predator picks you?
The first formal dance. Our dance.
His hand slid to my waist, burning through the silk deathtrap gown like it was nothing. His grip was firm, possessive, his fingers curling just tight enough to make me gasp. My other hand rested in his, and I swear his thumb grazed my knuckles, sending a jolt up my arm. Breathe, Eli. But breathing was hard when his eyes locked on mine, unyielding, peeling back every layer I'd built to survive this night.
The music surged, heavy and haunting. Cael guided me like he was puppeteering my soul, every step precise, every turn deliberate. I stumbled once, my heels betraying me, and he pulled me closer too close. His chest brushed mine, and I felt the heat of him through his gloves. Not fair.
"Breathe, Petal," he murmured, voice low and taunting, his breath hot against my ear.
"I'm breathing," I snapped, but it came out shaky, and my face burned. Liar.
My knees were jelly, my dignity at 12%.
The nobles watched, scandalized. A lady in sapphire fainted dramatically, her fan hitting the floor. A lord muttered, "She'll never survive him." Selene's fan snapped in half, her glare sharp enough to draw blood. Cathleen, poised by the Queen, was unreadable, but the Queen herself? Her face was a mask of rage, pale as death.
Cael didn't care. His eyes never left mine, like I was the only thing in this gilded cage. His thumb pressed into my waist, a deliberate graze that sent fire through my veins. I tried to pull back, to reclaim some space, but he just smirked and tightened his grip. "Not yet, Petal," he whispered, so low only I could hear.
The music ended, but his hold didn't. The crowd's whispers buzzed like hornets, but all I could feel was his hand, his gaze, his claim. I broke eye contact first, desperate to find my spine. Get it together, Eli.
He didn't let go.
Cael's grip stayed firm as he led me out of the ballroom, past the gaping nobles, past Selene's death glare, past the Queen's icy stare. The heavy gold curtains whispered as we slipped into a shadowed hallway, the air cooler but thicker, charged with something dangerous. My heels echoed on the marble, too loud, like my heartbeat.
He backed me against the wall, not touching, just looming. His presence was a cold fire, burning slow, leaving scars. My spine was still in there, somewhere, but my legs were jelly, and my dignity? Long gone. "What do you want?" I muttered, voice shaking despite my best effort.
His eyes darkened, fierce, possessive. "You didn't ask," he said, voice cutting glass. "I won't ask for what's already mine."
My breath caught. He leaned in, so close I felt the chill of his skin, the heat of his breath. His gloved hand tilted my chin up, forcing my eyes to his. I couldn't move, couldn't think. His lips grazed my neck, soft but deliberate, finding the pulse point hammering under my skin.
Then, a bite. Not cruel, but sharp, a love bite that stung and bloomed fire in its wake. I gasped, hands flying to his chest, not sure if I was pushing him away or pulling him closer.
This is bad. So bad. Why do I want more?
Footsteps echoed down the hall, sharp, urgent. Selene? A spy? Cael pulled back, smirking, eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Not yet, Petal," he whispered, brushing a gloved finger along my jaw. He stepped back, leaving me trembling, my hand flying to my neck where the bite still tingled, hot and alive.
"Don't do that again," I muttered, but it was weak, and his smirk said he knew it. My brain was a mess, screaming monster and mine in the same breath. I needed air. I needed out.
Lilia found me before I could collapse. "Eli, oh my gods, MOVE!" she hissed, dragging me toward the palace doors. "Selene's plotting your funeral, and I'm not letting you die in that dress!"
I stumbled after her, still touching my neck, the bite burning under my fingers. "He's a monster," I whispered, but it sounded like a question. Lilia didn't hear, too busy shoving me toward the waiting carriage. "Get in, get safe, we'll debrief later!" she squealed, practically throwing me inside.
The carriage door slammed shut, and the world went quiet. Just me, the creak of wood, the clop of horses. My mind spun, Cael's eyes, his bite, the nobles' pity, Selene's smirk. "He's a monster… but damn," I muttered, fingers tracing the mark. My heart wouldn't stop racing, torn between fear and something I didn't want to name.
The night was too still. Then, a thunk. An arrow slammed into the carriage door, quivering an inch from my hand. I froze, breath catching. Horses screamed, the driver shouted, then went silent. A crash—metal on wood. Masked figures loomed outside, blades glinting in the moonlight. One wore a ring, a serpent crest glinting faintly. Selene's family?
My hand scrabbled for something, anything. A hairpin, sharp and silver, was all I had. Underdog mode, don't fail me now. The carriage rocked as another arrow hit. A shadow lunged at the window, and I raised the hairpin, heart in my throat.
"Not like this!" I gasped, and the world exploded into chaos.