Isabelle's POV
After that drama at the cafeteria, Dmitri followed me everywhere. Even the times he didn't, people were scared to talk to me or whisper about me whenever I passed by.
For the first time in forever, I experienced quiet days in school. No stares in classrooms, no dumping of food trays in the cafeteria, no peeping Toms in the Music Hall. The best part, the hallway was quiet. I felt free. I didn't even have friends to begin with, except people in the Music Hall and I'm happy we still get to talk and joke around despite everything that happened. Finally, I felt like a normal student experiencing a normal school life.
Late at night, I'd sneak out of the dormitory to the Music Hall, just to play for myself… or that was the excuse I told myself because he was always there with me to watch me play. He would stand there like a shadow while I tried to ignore how he looked at me. No sound. No interruption. Some days, we have little chats. But tonight was different. I was uneasy.
The music room at midnight felt cold. The moonlight was coming through those high windows, turning the grand piano into a big silver block. Dmitri was already there. Just a shadow leaning against the wall. He jerked his chin at the music stand.
He'd ditched his blazer. Sleeves rolled up. I noticed these faint, pale scars on his arms that I'd never seen before. The top button was undone, and I tried not to notice how much older it made him look.
I picked up the violin. Cold wood against my neck. I tried to play a bit of Zigeunerweisen. It's supposed to be wild, but I sounded like I was strangling the strings. My head was a mess. My mother's name, Viktor's face when he saw me, the weird, annoying heat in my stomach because Dmitri was standing three feet away.
The bow slipped. The violin let out a disgusting shriek.
"Focus," he said. His voice was low. It vibrated in my chest.
"I can't!" I dropped the violin. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. "How am I supposed to focus when your old man is probably out there figuring out how to make me go away? I don't even know who I am. I'm wearing a dead woman's face. And you? You just stand there. What am I, Dmitri? Some project? A doll you're fixing up?"
He moved off the piano. Fast. Like he was hunting something. He didn't stop until he was right in my face. "I watch you because you're the only real thing in this dump.. Stop letting those things live in your head."
I let out a mean laugh. "Easy for you. You've got the name. The money. Is that why we're here? Volkov's guilt? Or are you just like him, waiting to see what you can get out of me?"
He stopped. He was so close I could feel the heat off his skin. "You think this is about guilt?"
"I think you're bored," I snapped. I stepped toward him. I wanted him to feel the same bridge-burning pain I did. "I'm the scholarship rat who looks like an exiled heiress. It's a fun game, right? Tell me, Dmitri... when you look at me, who do you actually see? Or is it just my mother's ghost? Maybe you're as empty as your dad. Just a puppet in a suit."
That hit him. His "ice prince" face just crumbled.
"A puppet?" he asked. His voice went really quiet. Dangerous quiet.
"Yeah." My heart was hammering. "You talk about power, but you hide in the dark because you're scared of him. You're a coward. A big name wrapped around nothing."
He moved.
His hand slammed against the music stand, pinning me against the piano. The violin was caught between us. I heard the wood groan.
"You want to know what I see?" He was whispering now, his face inches from mine. I could see the storm in his eyes and that tiny scar on his eyebrow. "I see a girl who thinks she can poke a beast and not get bitten. I don't see a ghost. I see the only thing in this rotting place that makes me feel like I'm actually alive."
"Then prove it. I am so sick of this," I breathed.
He leaned in until our foreheads touched. His breath hitched. It was a jagged, messy sound. He sounded like a guy falling apart.
"Please." He sounded desperate. Raw. His grip on the stand was so tight that the metal was shaking. "Don't shut me out. Not you. I'm drowning, Isabelle. You're the only air I've got."
I wasn't ready for that. I wanted a fight. I wanted him to be a prick. I didn't have a plan for him being this honest.
My hand was in a fist to push him away, but it just... loosened. I grabbed his shirt. I wasn't pushing anymore. I was holding on.
He didn't ask again. He just kissed me.
It was a collision. It tasted like salt and being lonely. For a second, I stiffened up. My brain was screaming that he was a Volkov, that he was dangerous and that was a mistake.
But he was hot as a furnace. The ice in me melted. I made this small, broken noise and kissed him back. My hand went to the back of his neck, finding its way to his hair, pulling him closer like he was the only thing keeping me from falling. The bow hit the rug with a soft thud. I didn't care.
The kiss changed. It wasn't just desperate anymore, it was deep. He made this wrecked sound against my mouth and lifted me until I was flat against his chest. I could feel his heart going like a drum.
At that moment, the school didn't matter. The money didn't matter. There was just his mouth, his hands on my back and the terrifying fact that we were both just survivors clinging to the same piece of trash in the ocean. He wasn't taking anything. He was giving everything up.
Julien's POV
The East Wing was dead quiet at midnight. I'd come to the music hall to leave a note. I'd spent hours writing it. I did it because I love you. I wanted you to be safe. I didn't mean to hurt you. Forgive me. Stupid stuff like that.
The big oak door was cracked open a tiny bit. A sliver of light was hitting the floor. I heard a sound.
A thud. A bow hitting the carpet.
Then, just the sound of people breathing. Heavy. Close.
I should've walked away. I know that. But I couldn't. I pushed the door an inch wider.
My whole world just snapped in half.
There they were, right in the moonlight. Isabelle. My Isabelle. She wasn't even fighting him. She was… she was leaning into him, her fingers tangled in his hair, trusting him in a way she never trusted me. And Dmitri... the guy who thinks he's so cold... he was holding her like he'd die if he let go. He looked human. It sucked.
It felt like someone drove a glass shard into my chest. It wasn't even anger. It was just... nothing. I was being erased. The note in my hand got crushed into a ball.
I watched for a second too long. They looked like they belonged together. Two halves of the same cursed thing.
I wanted to run in there. I wanted to hit him. But the urge died before it even started. I just realized something.
He's going to ruin her and she's blindly following him.
He's a fire. He's just going to burn her up until she's nothing but ash and needs him to breathe. That's not love. That's a trap. My love was about keeping her safe. His was about owning her.
I let the crushed note fall on the floor. No more letters. Dmitri uses words to mess with people. I'm done with words.
I backed away into the dark. I didn't make a sound. My heart ached, sure, but it was getting hard.
He won the night. Fine. He can have the dark.
I'm going to save her from him, even if I have to save her from herself. I'm the only one who can give her a place to actually hide. A safe place. And I'm going to prove it.
Dmitri's POV
We broke apart, both of us breathing unevenly. I set her back down slowly, my hands lingering for a moment before I let go. For a second, I thought she'd look scared or bolt for the door. Most people would. But she didn't. She just looked at me, steady and unreadable, like she'd made the decision herself and wasn't about to apologize for it. That look almost made me pull her back and kiss her again. The urge was there, sharp and stubborn. I forced myself to step back instead. She didn't even pick up her bow or her violin. Just looked at me one last time and said, "Good night," before walking out like she hadn't just crossed a line neither of us could undo.
The music room was quiet again after she left, but I could still feel her. Her smell, her touch. I leaned my head back against the piano and closed my eyes. My hands were still shaking.
That was a mistake. I knew it. Touching her like that... it wouldn't make the hunger go away. It just made it permanent.
I walked over and picked up her bow from the rug. It was light. Fragile. Just like her, except she had that fire inside that could melt the skin off your bones. I set it back on the stand.
I felt like someone was watching me. I turned toward the door. It was open an inch.
I walked over and shoved it open. Nobody. Just the long, empty hallway. But then I saw it. A piece of paper, crumpled up on the stone floor.
I picked it up and flattened it out. It was a note. Julien's handwriting. I did it because I love you. I didn't even finish reading the rest of the flowery crap before I ripped it into four pieces.
"Too late, Saint," I muttered.
I stepped out into the hall. I didn't go back to my dorm. I went to the courtyard. I needed the cold air to clear the taste of her off my tongue.
The school looked different tonight. The shadows were longer. I knew what was coming. My father wouldn't stay quiet for long. And now Julien was done being a hero.
I sat on the edge of the fountain and stared at the water. I wasn't the "Demon Prince" tonight. I was just a guy who'd finally found something worth fighting for, and I knew I was going to have to burn the whole world down to keep it.
I reached into my pocket and felt the edges of that old photo.
"I'm not letting her go," I said to myself.
I got up and started walking. I had work to do. If the gala was next week, I needed to make sure Isabelle didn't just show up. I needed to make sure she arrived like a thunderstorm.
I headed toward the archives. I needed to find the rest of the 2005 files. There was something my father wasn't telling me about the "Royalty" guy. Isabelle's father.
If I am going to weaponize her, I need the full story. Every dirty detail. Every lie they told to bury the Valois name.
The war was starting. And for the first time in my life, I wasn't fighting for the Volkovs. I was fighting for a girl with silver eyes and a violin.