The castle was deathly silent.
Eira paced the length of her room, her footsteps muffled by the thick rug beneath her feet. The faint light of the sun bled through the narrow window, casting long shadows on the stone walls. She had tried to rest, but her mind refused to settle, and her questions clawed at her with growing insistence.
The sketches still lay on the desk, the woman's sharp eyes staring back at her through the charcoal haze. Eira glared at the drawing, frustration bubbling in her chest. Caius's cryptic words and unyielding silence only made her curiosity burn hotter.
"Stay in your room," he had said. As if she were a child. As if staying put would magically make the questions go away.
Her fists clenched. She wasn't going to find answers by sitting here.
Pulling a robe over her nightgown, Eira slipped quietly into the corridor. The cold air bit at her exposed skin, but she ignored it, her resolve firm as she padded barefoot across the stone floor.
The castle stretched around her like a maze, its darkened halls twisting and branching off in endless directions. The only sound was the faint rustle of her robe and the occasional creak of old wood. Shadows danced in the corners of her vision, but she pressed forward, her unease mingling with a growing sense of defiance.
Her wandering brought her to a heavy wooden door, its edges glowing faintly with warm light. She paused, her breath catching. Why was there light here, so late into the morning?
Eira hesitated only a moment before pushing the door open.
The room beyond was grand but unassuming, its dark wooden walls and ornate furnishings softened by the glow of a roaring fire. She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes immediately drawn to the figure seated by the hearth.
Caius.
He sat in a high-backed chair, his coat discarded on the armrest and his shirt absent entirely. The golden light of the fire danced across his bare shoulders, highlighting the faint scars that marked his back. His dark hair was tousled, falling just slightly over his brow, and his sharp profile—so often cold and guarded—looked softened in the flickering light.
Eira's breath hitched as her gaze lingered, drawn unbidden to the play of muscle beneath his skin. She'd seen him fight before, his movements calculated and brutal, but she hadn't expected him to look… this human in stillness. There was a magnetism to him, one that made her stomach twist in ways she didn't entirely understand.
She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the edge of her robe. He's beautiful. The thought slipped through before she could stop it, and her cheeks flamed in the quiet.
The faintest creak of the floor beneath her pulled her out of her daze, but it was too late.
Caius's head snapped up, his golden eyes locking onto hers instantly. His expression darkened, the vulnerable moment by the fire replaced by the icy mask she was used to.
"Eira," he said, her name sharp and cutting in the stillness.
"I—I didn't mean to interrupt," she stammered, taking a half-step back. "I couldn't sleep."
"Why are you here?" he asked, rising from the chair with slow, deliberate movements. The firelight caught the edges of his sharp features, turning him into something both regal and dangerous.
"I dont know why I ended up here," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I was… restless."
Caius's gaze narrowed as he closed the distance between them. "Restlessness seems to make you forget instructions."
Eira straightened, the defiance in his tone sparking her own. "I'm not a damsel, Caius. You don't get to tell me where I can or can't go."
A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it lacked warmth. "No? Then why does it feel like I'm constantly pulling you back from the edge of a cliff?"
Her jaw tightened, but she refused to look away. "Maybe if you gave me answers instead of cryptic warnings, I wouldn't feel like I'm standing on one."
His expression flickered for just a moment, a shadow of something unreadable passing through his eyes. But then his usual calm returned, colder than before.
"You're asking questions you don't want the answers to," he said quietly.
"I'll decide what I want," Eira shot back, her voice trembling slightly.
"Enjoying the view?" Caius asked, his tone low and edged with something dangerous.
Eira's heart jumped at the accusation, but she refused to let her embarrassment show. If he wanted to play that game, she'd meet him head-on.
"Maybe," she said, her voice casual, almost teasing. She let her gaze flicker over him deliberately, from his broad shoulders to the faint scars that cut across his chest. "You certainly don't seem to mind the attention."
The corner of Caius's mouth twitched, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He stepped closer, his golden gaze narrowing. "Careful, little lamb," he murmured, his voice dropping. "I don't think you know what kind of fire you're playing with."
Eira tilted her head, holding his gaze even as her pulse quickened. "I think I do."
For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick and charged. Then Caius moved faster than she could track, closing the gap between them in an instant.
Eira gasped as her back hit the wall, the cold stone pressing through her thin robe.
Caius loomed over her, one hand braced against the wall beside her head. His other hand rose slowly, his long fingers curling lightly around the side of her neck. His touch wasn't forceful, but it carried a weight that made her pulse race.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "You're testing my patience."
Eira's breath came shallow as Caius's golden eyes bore into hers, his touch still a faint pressure against her throat. She should leave. She knew she should. And yet, her feet refused to move, her body frozen in the narrow space between his and the cold stone wall.
It wasn't the first time she'd been caught in a moment like this—attraction simmering in the air, the heat of someone else's presence pressing against her like a storm waiting to break. There had been others before, men she'd let into her life, into her bed. Sometimes it was fleeting—just a night to push away the loneliness. Other times, it had been more deliberate, an act of rebellion against the expectations others had placed on her.
But Caius wasn't a man.
That truth hung heavy in her chest, more suffocating than the tension crackling between them. Men had been simple—predictable in their hunger, easy to read, and easier to leave. Even when they'd looked at her like she was the only thing they wanted, she'd always been the one in control.
Caius wasn't simple.
He wasn't someone she could take and discard, wasn't a risk she could measure or a game she could win. Everything about him was sharp and consuming, from the weight of his gaze to the faint, dangerous smirk curling at the corner of his lips. He wasn't asking for her attention—he was claiming it. And the worst part was, she couldn't tell if she hated that or wanted it more than she should.
Her heart pounded as she realized the truth: she didn't know if she wanted to leave.
The thought terrified her, and yet it burned in her chest like a secret she couldn't unlearn. Did she want to push past him, flee to the safety of her room, or did she want to stay here, caught in the web of his intensity? Her body trembled with indecision, her mind tangled in the sharp edges of desire and fear.
Before she could decide, his voice cut through the silence, low and dangerous.
"I want you to go back to your room," he said, slow and deliberate, as if daring her to challenge him.
A flicker of heat rose in her, tangled with fear. This wasn't a game she could play the same way.
But she could sure try.
"Why should I leave?" she said, her voice low and deliberate. "I am your wife, after all."
Caius's lips twitched, his faint smile sharp and dangerous. "Wife?" he repeated softly, the word curling off his tongue like a dagger.
His golden eyes bore into hers, sharp as the edge of a blade. "Don't make challenges you can uphold, my little lamb."
Eira swallowed hard, her breath catching in her throat. "Maybe I already have."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Caius's thumb brushed her neck, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down her spine.
"You've wandered into dangerous territory," he said, his voice soft but edged with menace. His knee shifted slightly, pressing against her just enough to make her gasp. "Do you even realize where you are?"
"I know exactly where I am," Eira said, her voice trembling but defiant. "It's you who won't admit it."
Caius leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear. "You're bold, I'll give you that."
His lips hovered just over her skin, his voice dropping even lower. "But boldness has its limits."
Eira's breath hitched, her fingers curling against the wall at her sides. "What are you so afraid of, Caius?" she whispered.
His golden eyes darkened, and for a moment, she thought she saw the faintest flicker of something raw—something unguarded. Before she could press further, he dipped his head, his lips crashing into hers.
The kiss was rough, almost punishing, his hand tightening slightly on her neck to hold her in place. Heat flared between them, and Eira's hands came up instinctively, her fingers curling against his chest. His skin was cool beneath her touch, but his movements burned—deliberate, overwhelming.
Caius broke the kiss suddenly, his mouth lingering near hers. His breathing was slow and measured, but his golden eyes burned as they bore into hers.
"You should leave," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
Eira's pulse raced as she clung to the defiance sparking in her chest. This should feel familiar—a dance she'd stepped into before, on her terms. She'd known the risks, the limits, and always kept herself in control.
But Caius wasn't a man who would let her take without consequence, or allow her to wade into the fire without being consumed by it. His hunger, his restraint—it was sharper than anything she'd faced before. And she wasn't sure if the shiver running through her now was from fear of him—or fear of herself.
"And if I don't?" The challenge exited her mouth before she even registered it.
"If you don't…" His thumb brushed her pulse, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a wicked smirk. "I'll have my way with you until you can't take any more and I'll drink from you until I'm satisfied."
Eira's breath hitched, her body frozen between fear and something darker. For the first time in years, she felt out of her depth. She knew what it was to give herself for a night, to let the need for connection outweigh the fear of the morning after.
But there was nothing fleeting about Caius, nothing she could take and leave behind. He wasn't one of the Men who were all too eager to give her their devotion—or at least pretend to. Some she'd taken for a night, their hunger fleeting, their presence easily forgotten by the morning light. Those encounters had been safe because they were simple. She had always been in control, always the one to decide when it ended. They had wanted her, but not like this.
Caius was different. His hunger wasn't something she could predict, let alone control, and his gaze burned with more than desire. It wasn't just her body he seemed to want; it was all of her—her mind, her fear, her will. And that terrified her. How could she let herself be consumed like that, by someone who could unmake her so completely?
The part that scared her most wasn't him. It was the part of her that wanted to let him.
"Go," Caius commanded, stepping back abruptly, the absence of his touch leaving her trembling.
The cold air rushed in to fill the space he'd left, sharp and biting against her skin. It was almost worse than his touch, the sudden absence of his weight and heat leaving her unmoored. For a moment, she wanted to step forward, to chase the fire he'd pulled away, but the weight of his command pinned her in place. The power he wielded wasn't in his strength—it was in the way he made her question her own.
The shift in proximity was like the snapping of a thread—one that had been pulled too tight and now left the air between them heavy and charged. His golden eyes stayed on hers, unwavering, the faint smirk on his lips a dangerous echo of the intensity that had just passed.
Eira didn't move. Her knees trembled, her heart hammering as though he could hear it. Her lips still burned from his kiss, her fingers twitching at her sides.
"Eira," Caius said, his voice dropping lower, sharper. The weight in his tone pinned her in place. "Leave. Now."
She swallowed hard, her cheeks blazing as his gaze lingered. "You're blushing," he observed, smooth and edged with amusement. "Adorable."
Her breath hitched, embarrassment flooding her chest. She took a stumbling step back, then bolted for the door, her robe fluttering behind her like an afterthought.
The door clicked shut behind her, the sound echoing in the empty hall.
Eira didn't stop running until she reached her room, slamming the door and throwing herself against it, the cold wood searing through her overheated skin. Her chest heaved, her breath uneven as the icy stone walls seemed to close in, suffocating the warmth Caius had left behind.
"What just happened?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the erratic pounding of her heart.
Her hands came up to her face, covering her flushed cheeks as the memory of Caius's kiss washed over her in vivid detail. The roughness of it, the way his fingers had curled around her neck, the way his knee had pressed against her—
She shook her head violently, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to her like a second skin.
This wasn't just confusion. It was something deeper, something that made her pulse race and her stomach twist in ways she didn't want to understand.
She could still feel the cool brush of his thumb against her throat, the weight of his voice when he said, "Go."
"Why did I stay so long?" she muttered, pulling the blanket from her bed and wrapping it tightly around her shoulders. Her cheeks burned hotter as the question twisted into something darker: Why didn't I want to leave at all?
She curled onto the mattress, her knees tucked against her chest, but the cold air seemed to pressed through the fabric and refused to comfort her. Her mind raced, replaying his words, his touch, his kiss.
Her body still felt shaky, her arousal clashing with the lingering fear she'd felt when he'd pressed her against the wall. He'd kissed her with such raw, unapologetic intensity, and she hated the way her body had responded to it—hated that some part of her wanted more.
"Get it together," she whispered fiercely, her voice muffled by the blanket. "You're not supposed to… to feel like this."
But no matter how hard she tried, the memory refused to fade. The heat of his presence, the way he had leaned so close, his voice low and dangerous as he warned her about what he might do if she stayed.
Eira pressed her forehead against her knees, groaning softly.
"What is wrong with me?" she muttered, but there was no one to answer.
The castle around her was silent once more, but the memory of Caius's kiss lingered, as vivid as the sketches still sitting on her desk.
And no matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop replaying the way he'd looked at her—the hunger in his eyes, the dark promise in his words.
Caius had given her a warning. She was almost certain she didn't want to heed it.