LOGINMaryelle’s POV continued My phone rings. The sound shatters the silence. I squint at the unfamiliar number before answering. "Hello?" "Hi! Is this Maryelle?" The woman's voice is bright. Cheerful. Almost excessively so. "This is Patrice from the spa." I sit up straighter. "Joyce got tied up this morning, so she asked me to escort you." A pause. "I'm waiting outside whenever you're ready." I glance at the clock. Confusion immediately follows. "Oh." I push my hair out of my face. "I thought I had more time. I was planning to shower first." "No worries. You can shower at the spa's facility." Her cheerful tone never wavers. "I can bring you straight over." "Actually, could you just text me directions?" Something about her tone feels... off. "I'll meet you there." "Oh no. Please let me escort you to the spa. We want our king's guest to have the best experience." Too quick. Too eager. "Besides, Joyce insisted." A nervous laugh follows. "You deserve the VIP treatment and
Maryelle's POV We've spent most of the night talking about everything and nothing. I'm laying on his bed, our bodies are pressed close, breaths syncing in the twilight. Lucian traces patterns on my arm, his heart pounding like a secret drum. I look at him, his golden eyes reflect the soft light. "What are you thinking about?" I ask."Just want to try a few things... Things that got interrupted before we made it to my palace," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're just as in control as I am. You say stop, and I stop."Oh... those kinda things. I blushed, biting my lower lip, and nodded. "So many places I want to kiss," he confessed. "So I'm gonna take my time," he finished, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I want to worship every inch of you."My gaze locked onto his. There was no hesitation in mind now, only trust and anticipation."Kiss me," I whispered.And he did. He kissed me until I couldn't breathe, until I couldn't think, until our surroundings blurre
I'm still shaking when Lucian pulls me into his arms. His embrace closes around me immediately. Protective. Steady. Safe. "I'm sorry." His voice is rough against my hair. "I don't know how to make that right." The helplessness in his words breaks my heart. "Tell me what you need." I bury my face against his chest. "I'm tired." The admission comes out smaller than intended. "So tired." "I can take you back to Israfil's." The offer is immediate. No hesitation. No argument. My heart aches. Because beneath the kindness is fear. His fear that I'll leave. The fear that this changed something. I pull back enough to take his hands. "I don't want to go back." Relief floods his expression so quickly it almost hurts to witness. Like he'd been holding his breath. Waiting. "But..." His shoulders tense. "Since I'm clearly not sleeping anytime soon..." I squeeze his fingers. "Tell me about the day I found you." The relief vanishes instantly. Replaced by dread. "The da
Maryelle's POV The drive to the weresnake palace takes less time than I expect. When we pass through the gates, awe steals the breath from my lungs. The palace unfolds like a secret whispered to the moon. Obsidian domes gleam beneath silver starlight, their polished surfaces reflecting the heavens above. The structure seems alive somehow, breathing with shadow and quiet power. Pale green runes pulse beneath sweeping archways, their glow shifting as our car passes beneath them. And the silence... It isn't empty. It's watchful. Ancient. Like the palace knows every secret ever spoken inside its walls and is waiting to learn yours too. Violet-flamed torches line the path, casting elegant serpentine patterns across the stone walkways. Massive snake statues stand guard on either side. Some are coiled in reverence. Others appear ready to strike. Gemstones glitter within their eyes, catching the firelight. Watching. Waiting. The air smells of moonflowers and spice, the scen
Lucian’s POV Maryelle's room hums with quiet intimacy. The room Israfil set aside for her smells faintly of lavender and candle wax. Lamplight pools across the floor while shadows gather in the corners, turning the space soft and private. Safe. A dangerous thing for a man like me to crave. "Can I take you to my palace?" The question leaves before I can stop it. Hope disguises itself poorly. A flicker of hesitation crosses her face. Small. Brief. Still enough to make my stomach tighten. "I don't know if that's a good idea." Her fingers toy with the edge of a blanket. "What if they don't like me?" She takes another breath. "And what about Lomi?" I smile. Not because her concerns are unreasonable. Because they're so painfully Maryelle. "They'll love you because I love you. And Lomi is handled. She won’t be an issue." Her eyes narrow. "You're just saying that so I say yes." "I'm actually saying it because it's true." I step closer. "I promise y
"That part is all you... with the help of Bailey." Every eye in the room lands on her. "Phan you broke my heart long before I ever laid eyes on Lucian." The words hit harder than they should. Because some small selfish part of me treasures them. Even now. Even here. He ignores everything she says, and tells her, "I won't be able to guarantee your safety in Rome if you stay with him." The threat is disguised as concern. Barely. Maryelle's expression hardens instantly. "The line's been drawn in the sand." Her voice carries through the dining hall. Calm. Certain. Terrifying. "Do what you need to do, Phantom." She sighs. "We'll respond accordingly." Then she hangs up. Just like that. Silence follows. Heavy. Absolute. I watch her. She meets my gaze. No hesitation. No regret. Just conviction. "I'm guessing everyone heard that?" Her voice sounds tired. "It was loud and clear." Israfil's answer comes immediately. His tone has changed. Dangerously so. Kat slams h
In the club, the music pounds against the speakers like an angry woodpecker trying to demolish a tree. Al yells her order over the noise, and the bartender hands her two shots in return. She shoves one in my direction, and before I can decline, a guy jumps in front of me and shoves the glass filled
The sun sets. Captivated, I watch its buttery haze disappear behind the clouds in pretty shades of blue, purple, and splotches of gold. It reminds me of the sunsets back home at Falls Quaker and briefly takes my mind off being stuck in Rome, Georgia. I glance at Al’s bed and wonder what the next fe
“This is not Australia.”“You're a genius, Maryelle—too clever for the world,” my mother deadpans.“Mom, what the heck! You said we were going on a summer vacation. You were taking me to Australia and Rome. Again, I have to point out that this place looks like neither.” I hadn’t been suspicious whe
Despite the mountain lion scare, Phantom and I spend the next couple of weeks moving through summer as if it were stitched just for us. Each moment with him eclipses the last, and the way he treats me makes him feel less like a prince of bloodlines and more like the kind of prince carved out of dre







