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ALEXANDER

The last time I saw her was five years ago.

It was the worst day of my life—the day her parents died and she almost didn’t make it. I remember the blood, the screaming, the chaos. Five people were there that night. Only two of us know the truth about what really happened. And I’ll carry that truth to my grave if I have to. Because if Emmaline ever finds out…

She’d never forgive me.

I step into the chapel just before the ceremony could properly commence. She turns, her eyes going wide. Everyone in the hall goes quiet, breathe bated as they anticipate my next move. Her brother—Luca—goes pale. Dante on the other hand looks furious. His hands ball into fists as he glares at me.

I mark her before anyone can make any sense of what I’m doing.

Now, she’s standing right in front of me. My eyes follow her fingers as they touch my mark on her neck. Disbelief clear on her face. I see it clear as day, dark against her pale skin. A symbol that she’s mine. But her eyes—goddess- those eyes—burn with fire. Hatred. Disgust. Rage. She doesn’t need to say a word. I can see everything in the way she looks at me.

She hates me.

And that’s fine. I’d rather she hate me than be completely shattered.

I had promised myself I’d stay away from her. For five years, I watched from afar. Made sure she was safe. Tried to live without her. But when I found out her brother sold her off to Dante Mancini? That she was going to marry that monster?

No.

I might be a monster myself, but Dante is something worse. A different kind of evil. He hurts for fun. And I wasn’t going to let him take her. Not Emmaline.

“The disrespect,” Dante growls, stepping toward me after I marked her. “She was my bride. Mine to take.”

Without a word, I raise a hand, and Nico steps forward. He opens the door behind him, and in comes our men—each carrying heavy boxes. One by one, they stack them in front of Dante. Then they open them.

Cash.

More money than he ever lost. More than Emmaline is worth on paper. But to me, she’s priceless. No number can measure what she means to me. I look Dante dead in the eyes.

“I’m sure that’ll suffice,” I say coolly.

His eyes flicker to the cash. He swallows. Thinking about which is more important to him. Money or his reputation. His greed takes over. And just like that… he gives up.

“Nice doing business with you,” he mutters, waving a hand at Emmaline like she’s some object he’s done using.

I want to break his jaw. But I don’t. Not here.

The priest is shaking. I nod at him. “Start.”

He stammers but obeys. The ceremony begins finally, this time with me standing next to her. Emmaline looks ready to run, but she doesn’t. She’s frozen. Somewhere between fury and disbelief. She tries to speak, maybe even protest—but I see the moment the fight leaves her. The second her shoulders drop. The second she gives in.

They pronounce us husband and wife.

Then comes the part I’ve waited years for.

“You may kiss the bride.”

I move in, gently brushing my lips against hers. For a moment, she doesn’t move. Then her teeth sink into my bottom lip, sharp and fast. I taste blood. The metallic tang spreads across my tongue.

And I almost smile.

She still has the same fire. The same fight. She hasn’t changed a bit.

Luca tries to stop me when I take her hand to leave. Emmaline struggles too, pushing at my chest, hitting me. I’ve had worse.

“Let me go!” she yells.

Instead, I throw her over my shoulder. She kicks and thrashes, her fists hitting my back. I don’t say a word. Nico opens the door. I walk out with her like she weighs nothing.

In the car, I finally put her down. She pulls as far from me as she can, silent now. The fire’s still in her eyes, but her lips stay shut. She stares out the window.

I want to say something. Anything. But I don’t. What do I even say to a girl who believes I killed her parents? Who probably dreams of stabbing me in my sleep?

I tell the driver to go. The ride is quiet, tinged with a kind of tension that you could cut with a knife.

Every time I look at her, she looks away.

By the time we reach the estate, the sky is dark. I help her out of the car, but she jerks away from me and walks inside on her own. Nico gives me a look, but I shake my head. Let her have space.

She’s shown more strength than most people I know.

I leave her in the room that used to belong to my late mother. It’s been redone, made warmer and softer, but it still has pieces of her past scattered inside—things I kept safe. I don’t say anything when I close the door behind her. I just walk away.

I’m not in my office long before one of the guards comes in.

“Sir,” he says, a little hesitant. “Queen Emmaline… she’s asked to see you.”

I straighten. My chest tightening.

“Did something happen?” I ask, already on my feet.

He shrugs. “She didn’t say. Just that she wants to speak with you. Alone.”

I walk fast. Faster than I should. Worry crawls through me. Is she hurt? Sick? Did she try to run?

I reach her door and pause, my hand on the knob. I take a deep breath and push it open.

And freeze.

She’s standing in the middle of the room.

Stark naked.