Chapter 76

The air in the grand hall was thick with the scent of wine and spice, the low hum of conversation weaving through the gathering like a carefully orchestrated melody. It was an evening of diplomacy and spectacle, a feast held in honor of the visiting delegation from the Kingdom of Veyrath-a neighboring empire with wealth nearly rivaling their own.

It was meant to be a night of trade discussions, of strengthened alliances, of strategic partnerships.

But Tharx had not spoken a word in over an hour.

Aeliana felt his presence beside her, his stillness louder than any outburst. She didn't need to look at him to know his golden eyes were locked on the man sitting just across the table.

King Cassian of Veyrath was charming, clever, and far too interested in her.

From the moment they had been introduced, his attentions had been pointed, deliberate. The way he spoke to her, the way his sharp blue eyes lingered just a little too long, the way he leaned in when she spoke as if drawn to her voice-all of it danced on the edge of what was acceptable.

And he knew it.

The bastard was enjoying himself.

Aeliana, for her part, remained unbothered. She met Cassian's flirtations with polite smiles and calculated detachment. She understood this game-it was no different from war. He was testing boundaries, looking for weaknesses, searching for the unspoken dynamics that ruled the empire.

But Tharx was not a man who played these games.

He was a man who crushed obstacles, who silenced rivals not with politics but with sheer, brute force.

Aeliana took a sip of wine, allowing herself a brief glance at him.

His jaw was clenched, his muscles taut beneath the fabric of his ceremonial robes. His fingers drummed once against the wooden table before going completely still. A deadly kind of stillness.

Cassian, oblivious or purposefully reckless, leaned closer to her, his voice smooth.

"Tell me, Queen Aeliana," he said, "does a warrior such as yourself ever tire of ruling from the shadows?"

She raised a brow, tilting her head slightly. "Shadows?"

Cassian smirked, swirling the wine in his goblet. "You have power, that much is clear. Strength. Intelligence. But your emperor, powerful as he is, casts a very large shadow. Some rulers might wish for their own light."

It was a well-placed move. A challenge wrapped in honeyed words.

Aeliana could feel Tharx's fury pulsing beside her like a storm barely contained.

She did not take the bait.

She smiled, slow and deliberate. "The sun does not diminish simply because the moon shares its sky."

Cassian let out a quiet chuckle. "A poetic answer. But surely, you must have ambitions beyond-"

The goblet in Tharx's hand cracked.

Aeliana glanced down to see fine lines spreading across the metal, wine seeping through his fingers.

Cassian saw it, too. His smirk widened. "Ah. It seems I have said too much."

Tharx finally spoke, his voice dangerously soft. "Yes. You have."

Cassian held his gaze, amusement flickering in his eyes, as if testing just how far he could push the emperor of the strongest empire in the known world.

Aeliana sighed, setting her goblet down with a deliberate clink.

"Cassian," she said, voice edged with finality, "you are very bold."

He grinned, raising his cup. "I consider it one of my finer qualities."

"Mm." Aeliana's smirk didn't reach her eyes. "Be careful with boldness, King of Veyrath. Sometimes, it gets men killed."

Cassian studied her for a moment before chuckling softly, inclining his head. "A fair warning, my Queen."

The tension in the room was suffocating.

Tharx said nothing.

But Aeliana could feel his fury coiling tighter and tighter.

This night would not end peacefully.

The moment they were alone in their chambers, Tharx's restraint shattered.

Aeliana had barely unfastened the clasps of her robes before he grabbed her, spinning her to face him, his golden eyes burning with something fierce and untamed.

"You are mine," he growled, his grip firm but not bruising, his fingers curled around her arms as if trying to anchor himself.

Aeliana's smirk was slow, taunting. "I don't recall saying otherwise."

Tharx's jaw clenched. "Then why did you let him speak to you like that?"

She lifted a brow. "Let him?"

Tharx's grip tightened. Not in anger, but in possession, in something raw and desperate.

"He wanted you," he muttered. "He wanted to see how far he could push me."

Aeliana tilted her head. "And did he succeed?"

Tharx's lips curled, something dangerous flashing in his gaze. "He would be dead if he had."

She laughed softly. "Gods, you're predictable."

His fingers slid into her hair, fisting it gently, tilting her head back so she had to meet his gaze. "And yet, you act as if I have to remind you."

Aeliana smirked. "Maybe I like being reminded."

The last thread of control snapped.

Tharx crashed his lips against hers, fierce and demanding, a battle of need and dominance that neither of them wanted to win.

She pushed back against him, matching his fire, losing herself in it.

They moved without thought, without hesitation-a dance they had perfected, a war waged in whispers and skin.

His hands were rough, possessive, but his touch was worship.

And Aeliana, as always, met him with equal ferocity.

They didn't make love.

They fought, and they burned, and they conquered.

And by the time the storm passed, the world had been reduced to nothing but the warmth of their bodies tangled in the sheets.

Later, long after the fire had settled, Aeliana lay beside Tharx, tracing idle patterns along his bare chest. His breathing was steady, but his fingers still rested possessively against her hip, as if he was unwilling to let her drift too far.

She felt off.

Not in a way she could place.

Her body was warm, her pulse too fast, a strange pressure building beneath her skin.

She exhaled, trying to shake it off, but as she sat up, the room tilted.

Her vision blurred, her limbs felt too heavy, too distant.

She barely had time to inhale before the world went black.

The last thing she heard was Tharx's voice, sharp and alarmed.

"Aeliana."

And then-nothing.