NO LUXURY OF TIME

LIA

The dining hall felt like a throne room. A long table of polished oak gleamed under the chandelier’s light, silver platters steaming with food I couldn’t pronounce. Crystal glasses caught the glow like they were mocking me. Everything was elegant, beautiful, perfect. Except me.

I sat stiff at one end of the table, the diamond ring burning on my finger, my fork untouched. Across the table sat Salve, Beside him lounged Dimitri, his jacket abandoned, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to tempt scandal. He poured himself wine like a king who owned the vineyard, smirk dancing at the corner of his lips.

I had never felt smaller.

The silence pressed in until Dimitri shattered it with a laugh.

“You look like a nun at a feast, kotyonok,” he drawled, twirling his glass. “Surrounded by temptation, but too scared to take a bite.”

My jaw clenched. “I’m not hungry.”

His smirk sharpened. “Ah. Sulking again.”

Salve didn’t look up from his plate. “Eat.”

It wasn’t a request.

I forced a bite into my mouth, though it tasted like ash.

Dimitri chuckled, sipping his wine. “She thinks we’re going to pounce, Salve. Poor little rabbit believes we’ll drag her upstairs and ruin her tonight.” He tilted his head at me, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Isn’t that right, kotyonok?”

Heat flamed in my cheeks. I stabbed the steak harder than I meant to.

“You wouldn’t,” I muttered.

Dimitri’s grin widened, sharp and wicked. “Wouldn’t we? Oh, you don’t know us at all.”

I froze, heart hammering—until his tone shifted, lighter, almost playful.

“Let me clarify something before you choke on your fear,” he said, swirling his glass. “On no occasion will we force ourselves on you.”

The words hit like a slap. Relief surged through me, wild and dizzy.

I stared at him, searching his face for mockery. “You’re serious?”

He grinned wider, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Deadly.”

Salve finally looked up, his cold gaze pinning me. “We don’t take what isn’t freely given.”

The chandelier light gleamed off crystal, silver, diamonds. My chest loosened, just slightly. For the first time since the auction, I could breathe. But then Dimitri leaned forward, smirk curling crueler. “Don’t mistake that for freedom, kotyonok.”

My relief shattered.

“You may have the option to say no,” he said, eyes glinting. “But you don’t have the luxury of time. Not in our world. Not with blood on the streets and enemies at the gates.”

I gripped my fork tighter. “What does that even mean?”

Dimitri tapped the table with one finger, slow and deliberate. “It means every second you waste pouting, every minute you dream of escape, brings us closer to war. And when war comes, your choices vanish.” He leaned back, grinning. “Then you’ll wish you hadn’t wasted them.”

Salve cut his steak, unflinching. “An heir secures our throne. The longer you delay, the more dangerous your position becomes.”

My throat tightened. “So those are my choices? Marry you or what? Die?”

Dimitri laughed, tipping his glass back, wine catching the light like blood. “Not die, kotyonok. Fade. Become irrelevant. A ghost in a war that eats the weak.”

I slammed my fork down, the sound clanging through the room. “I’m not your vessel!”

The air stilled.

Salve’s voice cut through, low and final. “You already are.”

Silence stretched like a blade between us. Dimitri’s smirk softened—not kind, never kind, but warmer than Salve’s frost. He leaned in, his voice low enough to curl against my skin.

“You think we’re monsters,” he whispered. “And maybe we are. But remember this, kotyonok: monsters don’t lie. If we wanted to break you, we would. But we’re giving you a chance to bend instead. Take it.”

My chest heaved, fury and fear choking me. The chandelier flickered above us, shadows stretching long across the table, and I realized the truth was sharper than their knives. They would never force me.