here the Duke watched me every morning like a hawk eyeing its prey. Then, I see him. He is sitting on a dark leather sofa. His legs are arrogantly spread and his grey eyes shine in the gloom with the predatory glint of a wolf. The room is lit only by the moon. Its pale, unforgiving light carves out his imposing and dangerous silhouette against the darkness of the heavy velvet curtains.
"You should never have defied me, Lydia," he says.
His voice vibrates with a lethal mixture of anger and raw desire. It fills the room, leaving no space for me to breathe.
"You should never have resisted me."
"Just one night?" I whisper.
The words feel like shards of glass in my throat. Tears begin to burn my cheeks, hot and bitter as they track through the dust of my journey.
"Is that the price to withdraw your complaint? Is that all it takes to buy their lives?"
He laughs. It is a dry, hollow sound completely void of any warmth. It echoes off the high, painted ceiling, mocking my desperation.
"You think your honor is worth the freedom of three men? You think you are so precious that a single night pays a debt of nine months and the theft of royal jewels?"
He tilts his head slowly, studying me as if I were a fascinating insect he is about to crush under his boot. He waits with a terrifying patience to see how far I am truly willing to crawl for those I love.
"I have two conditions," I add.
I force a breath of desperate courage into my lungs, though my ribs feel tight.
"I will not break my engagement to Arthur. And no one must ever know what happens in this room. Ever."
"Do not worry, little gardener," he says.
His voice drips with a contempt that stings me worse than a whip.
"I will grow tired of you quickly. Once I have broken your pride and seen the truth of you, you will return to your miserable life. Undress."
The command falls between us, brutal and final. My fingers tremble so violently that I struggle to even touch the laces of my bodice. My skin feels cold, yet my face is flushed with a heat that has nothing to do with passion. Under his metallic gaze, which weighs on me like a physical burden pressing the air from my chest, I let my dress fall. It pools at my feet, a useless heap of fabric that used to represent my dignity. I stand there, completely vulnerable in the moonlight. My eyes are fixed obstinately on the floor to hide the crushing weight of my shame.
"Come closer," he growls.
I step forward. Each inch is a new torment, a new betrayal of the girl I was only this morning. He rises from the sofa. His massive stature dominates my fragility, blotting out the moonlight until I am standing in his shadow. He raises a hand and brushes my skin with the tips of his fingers. The contact is searing. It is a brand that makes me shiver despite the chill of the room.
"You are beautiful, Lydia," he murmurs.
His breath ghosts over my collarbone, smelling of dark wine.
"But beauty is nothing without submission. A rose is only a weed if it refuses to grow where it is told."
Suddenly, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me violently against him. His body is hard, a wall of muscle and power. I can feel the aura of absolute authority radiating from him, pressing into my soft flesh. He forces me to raise my chin, digging his thumb into my jaw to plunge my gaze into his. His eyes are a deep gulf of charcoal grey that threatens to swallow me whole.
"You are mine, Lydia. Mine alone for this night, and for every night I claim you."
Before I can utter a single protest, his lips crush mine. It is not a kiss. It is a conquest, brutal and possessive. He commands me to yield with the weight of his mouth. When I finally do, I feel his cold fury mingle with my own distress. A single tear escapes and loses itself in this wild, uneven exchange. Without breaking the contact, he lifts me off the floor. He carries me toward the bed with an ease that reminds me how small I am compared to his strength. The silk sheets against my back feel as cold and unforgiving as a shroud.
He lays me down and looms over me at once. He suffocates me under his weight and the sheer intensity of his presence. His hands begin a slow, devastating exploration. He burns every inch of my skin as if he is trying to erase every memory of Arthur's gentle touch.
"Perfect," he breathes against the sensitive skin of my neck.
I dig my nails into his muscular arms, seeking some kind of anchor in this whirlwind of conflicting, terrifying emotions. His mouth descends toward my throat. His tongue traces a path of fire along my collarbone. I cannot help but moan in pain and fear. It is a broken sound that he seems to savor. He arches my body against his. His strength is so immense that any thought of resistance is rendered useless.
His touches become more urgent and more daring. He explores my curves with a cruel precision, awakening sensations I never wanted to experience with anyone but the man I chose. Every shiver that runs through my body feels like a betrayal of Arthur. It is an indelible mark of the Duke's dark grip on my soul.
"You tremble under my hands, Lydia..." he whispers.
A note of cruel triumph vibrates in his chest against my own. He moves lower. His hands venture where no one had ever dared to even look. I close my eyes with all my might, pressing a hand over my mouth to stifle the sobs of shame that threaten to burst out of me. His contact is a burn, an intrusion that tears me apart internally long before the final act. I feel like a puppet whose strings he pulls with sadistic joy. My body responds despite my will to his calculated provocations.
"Stop... I beg you..." I whisper.
My throat is tight, nearly closed by the suffocating guilt. But he does not listen. Alaric is beyond mercy. He seeks to possess every hidden parcel of my being. He wants to prove to me that my heart and my vows are nothing against his iron will. His caresses grow more intense and more demanding. He sweeps me toward a point of no return where a strange, dark pleasure begins to mingle with my absolute dread.
"You taste of sin, my little courtesan," he murmurs as he settles definitively between my legs, sealing my fate.
I sink into the deep darkness of this room. I know that to save my family, I have had to abandon the only thing that truly belonged to me. I have traded my innocence for the lives of men who will never know the price I paid in the shadows of this bed.