Annalise's POV
My heart sank as Vincent casually answered, inspecting one of the fabrics. A satisfied grin stretched across his face.
"What is he talking about? Wedding dress? I knew the wedding was soon, but isn't it way too early for this?" Panic churned inside me, but I struggled to keep my expression neutral.
"My… my wedding dress?" I stammered, completely thrown. "What do you mean?" My voice wavered as I tried to steady it.
Vincent's gaze didn't falter. "I summoned the best tailors and merchants in the kingdom to design it. They're here to ensure it's flawless." His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. "And I summoned you so you can make any requests you desire."
I blinked at him, disbelief etched across my face. He was dead serious.
"Isn't it a bit early for that?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound calm.
"Not at all," Vincent replied smoothly. "In fact, I've decided to move the wedding date closer than before." His cunning smile deepened, and my stomach twisted in knots.
"What?" My voice rose sharply, and I caught the others in the room flinching at my tone—everyone except Vincent. "When did you decide that? Don't I have a say in this?"
Vincent chuckled lightly, taking a step closer. The room felt smaller as his piercing gaze locked onto mine. "Iris," he began, his voice smooth yet laced with an undeniable edge, "I don't think I need to consult you on decisions like this."
He reached for a lock of my hair, twisting it between his fingers in a way that felt both intimate and threatening. "Besides, the capital is hosting a ball soon to celebrate Estoria's victory. It's the perfect occasion."
My breath hitched as I dropped my gaze, desperately trying to process his words. "When?" I managed to choke out, anxiety gnawing at me like a relentless beast.
"In three weeks."
Three weeks. The air left my lungs in a rush. "What the actual fuck?" I screamed internally. I had thought I still had some time to figure things out, but now it felt like the walls were closing in.
"What's the matter, Iris?" Vincent asked, his voice dripping with amusement. "Are you that eager to be crowned my Luna queen?"
I shot him a glare, but it only seemed to amuse him further. My hands trembled as I glanced over to the merchants and tailors behind him. They avoided my gaze, clearly not wanting to get involved.
"Think, Annalise. Think!" My mind raced, but every idea fizzled out as quickly as it came. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm my spiraling thoughts. "Am I not being defiant enough? I wondered silently. I needed to show over and over again that I really wasn't interested in being his Luna.
"Vincent," I started, my voice surprisingly steady despite the storm raging inside me. I lifted my gaze to meet his. "I am not going to marry you."
Silence descended like a thunderclap. His smile froze, then melted away entirely. His sharp green eyes darkened, glowing with fury that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
"Everyone. Get. Out."
His voice was calm, but the weight of his authority was suffocating. The merchants scrambled to gather their things, fear etched on their faces.
"Uhm, sir—" Richard started nervously, but Vincent's head snapped in his direction.
"I said, get out." His voice dropped to a dangerous growl before erupting into a roar. "NOW!"
The room emptied in seconds, the tailors nearly stumbling over each other in their haste.
As the door slammed shut, the air grew thick with tension. Vincent's focus returned to me, his gaze pinning me in place. My chest heaved with shallow breaths as I instinctively stepped back.
"Stop."
His single word was cold and commanding. My body froze against my will, fear gripping me like icy chains.
He walked closer to me, exhaling sharply, his gaze softening just slightly. "Iris, why do you keep doing this?" he asked, his tone carrying a hint of defeat, though his eyes still blazed with fury.
"Oh God, what do I even say?" I wondered silently, biting my lower lip nervously. "That I can't marry him because I'm not his destined partner? That he'll abandon me according to the story, leaving me disgraced? That he's a character in a story, and all his reality is someone else's fiction?"
I swallowed hard, parting my lips to answer. "Look, Vincent," I began with a shaky exhale, "I know you think you're doing me a favor, but I promise you, it's the opposite."
His gaze hardened. "And why have you decided that?" he asked, calm but pointed.
"It's… complicated," I answered, uncertainty brimming in my voice.
"Complicated?" His brow arched. "Why? Do you have another lover?" There was a flicker of something in his serious expression, perhaps disbelief or jealousy.
I hesitated, debating whether I should say yes. "Maybe he'd leave me if I said I had another lover," I thought silently.
"Y-yes," I said, but my voice came out weaker than intended, betraying my determination.
Vincent chuckled, the sound soft and mocking before he broke into a low laugh. "Oh, Iris, you are entertaining," he teased.
Anger flared in me at his mockery, but I also felt a rush of relief that he wasn't being so terrifying anymore. "What? You don't believe me?" I snapped. "I have a lover!" I declared defiantly.
Vincent's laughter died abruptly, his serious expression returning. "Stop your lies, Iris. I can see right through them," he said, his smirk confident, almost cruel.
His voice dropped, and his expression darkened as he stepped closer. "Iris," he murmured, lifting a hand to stroke my cheek as his intense gaze pinned me in place. Suddenly, the menacing aura was back, stronger than ever.
"This will be the last time we have this discussion," he said, twirling a lock of my hair and bringing it to his nose, sniffing it briefly before letting it drop. My blood turned cold as I stood frozen, unable to break away from his hold.
Vincent leaned closer, his lips almost brushing my ear. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else. "I made it clear at your father's house, didn't I? We had such a… wonderful time," he said, his voice low and sultry, stirring the same primal urges within me again—something I fought desperately to suppress. Images of the hauntingly dreadful yet pleasurable night filled my head.
I flinched, jerking back as the heat I'd been fighting ignited within me. "No! Not now!" I thought, Iris's wolf clawing at the surface.
Vincent's hand shot out, gripping my waist as I tried to distance myself. He pulled me close, his face buried in the curve of my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine.
"You can't run away from me, Iris," he growled, his voice smooth but menacing. "I won't allow it. So whatever ideas you have in your head, you'd better let them go. Otherwise, I'll keep reminding you the way I like it."
His words were like chains wrapping around me, squeezing tighter with every second. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The danger radiating off him overwhelmed me, every sense screaming for me to escape.
"F-fine," I muttered, my voice trembling. "Let me go," I pleaded but he didn't release me. Instead, his grip tightened as he pulled back to meet my eyes, a satisfied grin curling his lips.
My anger flared again as I noticed his gaze drop to my lips. I knew what was coming, and if he had his way with me again here in his office, I would lose it.
Desperate, I racked my brain for a way to escape, and then it hit me. I raised my knee sharply, driving it into his groin with as much force as I could muster.
Vincent flinched, his eyes widened in confusion, grunting in pain as his grip slackened. I wasted no time, stepping back as he doubled over, clutching his crotch.
Seizing the moment, I bolted for the door, my heart racing. The hallway outside stretched endlessly before me as I ran, the echoes of my heels ricocheting off the walls. My dress tangled around my legs, tripping me several times, but I pushed forward.
Behind me, I heard Vincent calling my name and ordering me to stop, his voice sharp and commanding. I dared a glance back and saw him stepping out of his office, his fury blazing as he began chasing after me.
Panic surged, and I forced my legs to move faster despite the burning in my muscles. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever. I made a sharp turn, still looking back at Vincent, only to slam into something hard.
The impact sent me stumbling backward, but a strong hand grabbed my wrist, steadying me before I could fall. My breath caught as I turned to look at who—or what—I'd hit.
Standing before me was a tall, pale man. His dark intense gaze locked onto mine, and in that moment, the air seemed to freeze.