Emperor Devil and His Northen Queen
“You’ve poisoned my tea.”
His voice is molten silk, low and deliberate, as he stirs the cup with agonizing slowness. Each rotation of the spoon sends a shiver racing down my spine.
I grip the table’s edge until my knuckles bleach white, heart hammering so violently I’m sure he can hear it. My breath catches—sharp, ragged—while his golden eyes pin me in place, never once wavering.
He lifts the cup. Takes a slow, deliberate sip. Then another. The bitter poison must scorch his tongue, yet he doesn’t flinch. He savors it. Savors me watching him do it.
“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean…” The lie tastes filthier than the toxin itself—thick, cloying, useless.
Beyond the archway, naked omegas sway in glistening, hypnotic circles under flickering torchlight, bodies oiled and gleaming, every movement an invitation. I stare at them desperately, begging him to look anywhere else. Why does his attention burn hottest on the one tiny rebellion I dared?
He sets the cup down. Silent. Final.
Then he rises.
Three measured strides. That’s all it takes for him to close the distance. His gloved hand captures my chin—firm yet maddeningly gentle—tilting my face up to his. I try to jerk away. His grip tightens just enough to remind me who holds the power.
Before I can draw another breath, his mouth crashes over mine.
My eyes fly open on a choked gasp.
That’s when the arrogant devil lets the poisoned tea flood from his lips into mine—hot, bitter, intimate. It spills over my tongue in a slow, claiming rush, laced with the dark heat of him, the faint metallic edge of danger. I choke, thrash my head, but his fingers lock me in place, forcing me to swallow every sinful drop he feeds me. His tongue brushes mine once—deliberate, teasing—as the last of the poison slides down my throat.
He pulls back barely an inch. Just enough to drag the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, licking away the final trace of toxin while he watches me shudder. My chest heaves, lungs burning, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. My body trembles uncontrollably—fear, fury, and something far more treacherous coiling low in my belly.
“Now tell me, Princess…” His smirk is soft, wicked, victorious. His thumb strokes the edge of my swollen lower lip, smearing the last damp trace of tea. “How do we survive your poison when it tastes this sweet on your tongue?”
What happens when the man you swore to destroy becomes the only one who can steal your breath?
When the devil you loathe turns into the god who owns your every shiver?
When you finally bite the forbidden fruit… and discover it was always meant to ruin you?