The ballroom was a dream soaked in poison.
Crystal chandeliers glistened above silk-draped nobles. Goblets of wine shimmered like blood. Music drifted from the quartet — soft, tragic.
Ariana walked in like a flame wrapped in danger.
The gown hugged every curve — black and gold, slit high enough to steal breath. Her hair fell like ink down her back.
Her eyes were wild. And beautiful.
The crowd parted for her like shadows before a fire.
Damian stood at the edge of the room, frozen.
She hadn't spoken to him since their fight.
But tonight… she didn't look like someone who wanted to fight.
She looked like someone who came to destroy.
"My prince," Selene purred, approaching him in a clinging red gown. "You seem… distracted."
He didn't answer.
Ariana stepped onto the dance floor with a noble from a rival house — a general's son.
And when she smiled at him?
Damian snapped.
He crossed the room like a storm, ripped the man's hand from hers, and pulled Ariana against him.
"You're mine," he growled against her ear.
"Not tonight," she said sweetly.
"You're playing with fire."
"I am fire."
They danced — not in sync, but in defiance.
Every step was a threat. Every touch a scar.
She was daring him to lose control.
And gods, he was close.
Afterward, he cornered her in the tower stairwell, breath ragged, eyes black with want.
"Why him?"
"Why her?" she shot back.
He slammed his hand beside her head.
"You're driving me insane."
"Then break."
And he did.
His lips crashed into hers like a war declaration. She gasped as he pinned her to the wall, his body pressing into hers, desperate and rough.
"Say you hate me," he whispered, dragging his mouth down her neck.
"Say you want me dead."
She moaned, arching into him.
"I can't," she gasped. "I want you too much."
His hands tore at her dress, his mouth bruising her skin. Her leg wrapped around him, her head falling back as he whispered:
"I'd rather ruin you than lose you."
"Then ruin me."
It was fire and silk. Teeth and worship.
He took her like she was the only thing tethering him to the world — and she let him, needing to feel something that wasn't betrayal.
In that tower, they lost themselves in each other. Not lovers. Not enemies.
Just fire and flesh.
But outside those walls… war had begun.
A message was sent from the Veyl resistance.
The heir is alive. Prepare for blood.
And someone in the castle — someone close — had betrayed Ariana's location.