The air rippled, bending for me the way reality always does when I decide to walk through it. Then, like a fever dream solidifying into stone, my home unfurled ahead of us. Part castle. Part mansion. Part outright madness. Towers that shouldn't balance somehow leaned into perfect symmetry. Angles that couldn't exist folded into elegance. A masterpiece of disorder.
And finally, finally, she reacted. Barely. Just the faintest arch of a brow. But there it was. Ah, so she does have opinions.
I smirked. "Welcome to my home."
With a flick of my wrist, the massive black doors yawned open. The foyer greeted us. Towering ceilings, walls of polished black onyx catching candlelight. Candles drifted above like constellations caught in orbit, their glow warm yet untrustworthy. The obsidian floor shimmered with veins of gold, pulsing faintly. Alive.
I strolled forward, hands tucked in my pockets, casual as a king. "Come, let me show you your room."
She followed. Calm. Quiet. Taking it all in with that irritatingly measured gaze. Then a sideways glance. A challenge in disguise. "I'm getting my own room?"
I chuckled, tossing her a grin. "Yes, my darling Annie, you get your own room."
She stopped walking. Looked at me. Cool. Unimpressed. Perfect. There it is. The spark. The game. The name rolled around in my mind again. Annie. Too soft. Too mortal. Too personal for someone like her. Which is exactly why I enjoyed using it. She exhaled through her nose and said nothing. Victory. Mine.
I rocked back on my heels, leaned in, voice low and dripping with mischief. "Unless, of course, you'd rather share my room?" I waggled my brows. I live for this moment.
But she didn't blink."If you want that."
I froze. My smile faltered. That wasn't teasing. That wasn't banter. That was flat, like she was quoting a script. Before I could reroute, she stepped closer. Calm. Too calm. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers brushing the lapel of my coat like she'd done it a thousand times. She tilted her chin and kissed me. My body leaned in before my brain could catch up. It was perfect. Too perfect. Flawless, like something practiced. Performed. Rehearsed
And gods help me, it was a great kiss. Her lips were warm, her breath sweet. I should've been delighted. Mortals had thrown themselves at me plenty of times before. It wasn't new. Half the time they thought seduction was survival, the other half they thought it was what I wanted. I am known as a flirt. But this? This was different.
I caught her wrists gently. "Whoa. Annie."
Her eyes met mine, steady, unreadable. "Did I misread the situation?"
I let go, softer. "No. But that doesn't mean I want… this. Not like this."
Her brow twitched. The faintest tell. "This?"
"Habit. Performance." I sighed. "You're breathtaking, Annie, but I don't want rehearsed. I don't want something you were trained to give."
"Most people do."
I gave her my crooked grin. "Well, I'm not most people. You wouldn't believe how many mortals have kissed me the second they stepped into my Realm. I'm practically a fire hazard."
Nothing. Not even the ghost of a smirk.
I leaned in, lowered my voice. "I like my affection honest, love. Not offered like a tip at check-in."
She studied me a moment longer, then gave the smallest nod. No apology. No fluster. Just acknowledgment. Then she turned and kept walking, like the kiss had been no more than a handshake. I exhaled slow, and followed. We stopped at a pair of grand double doors.
With another flourish, I flung them open. "Here you are, Queen Annie. Your royal chambers."
The room unfolded in excess: a bed draped in velvet, carved wood glowing under shifting candlelight. A wardrobe fit for a kingdom. A fireplace flickering in impossible colors. Even the ceiling danced if you stared long enough. A dream. A palace. A showpiece.
She stepped inside like she was walking into a storehouse. Eyes cataloguing. Not savoring. "It'll do."
"It'll—" I sputtered, clutching my chest. "That's it? No gasp? No dramatic swoon? No, 'Oh Malvor, you're so extravagant!'" I scowled at her with mock offense. "You insult me, Annie."
Her brow lifted, barely. "I don't need extravagance. Just a place to sleep."
"You," I muttered, squinting, "are unbelievably dull."
"And yet," she said, brushing past me, "you're still here."
My lips parted. Retort ready. Then… damn it. She was right. I was still here. Lingering. Watching. Wondering why. She tested the bed, hand smoothing over velvet as if checking for quality. Practical. Then, without even looking back at me: "Are you done, Malvor? Or would you like to watch me sleep too?"
Oh, she can be a mouthy one. That snapped me back into my usual rhythm. I scoffed, hand over my heart. "Tempting, Annie. Truly."
I spun on my heel, striding toward the door with flair. But just before I vanished, I looked back over my shoulder, letting my voice soften just a touch. "Sweet dreams, darling." And then I was gone. Leaving her alone in a room too extravagant for someone who didn't care. Leaving me with the unwelcome thought: we are both still here.