Lucien’s POVThe moment she pushed open the door, I felt her hesitation before I saw it. Her hand lingered on the frame, her steps careful, as though she was sneaking into forbidden territory instead of entering the chamber that belonged to her just as much as it did to me. My eyes lifted from the floor to her, and that was when I caught sight of the way she clutched her robe—too tightly, like it was the only thing holding her together.And then, as the lamplight shifted, I noticed the lace peeking from beneath the silk. It took everything in me not to laugh—not at her, but at the sheer bravery wrapped inside her nervousness. She thought she hid it well, the way her gaze clung to me, dragging over my chest and stomach as though she couldn’t stop herself. But I saw it. Every flicker in her eyes, every stagger of her breath. She was trying so hard to appear confident, but her pulse betrayed her, racing so fast I could hear it from where I sat.And Saints, if she only knew how close I c
Natasha’s POVI stood before the door, robe wrapped tightly around me, my palms damp as though the fabric itself could sense my nervousness. Every step I had taken down the hallway had been heavy, dragging my fear and my hope together in a messy knot inside my chest. My head was held high because I forced it to be, because I wouldn’t allow myself to look defeated before even trying. But my stomach was churning so violently that I thought at any moment I might throw up right there in front of the King’s chamber.I raised my hand and pushed the door open slowly, quietly, as if the wood itself might betray me. The room was dimly lit. The air felt thick, heavy, scented faintly with pine and something darker, muskier—his scent, clinging everywhere like it had claimed the space long before me. My breath caught, and before my mind could even find balance, my eyes found him.The King.He wasn’t clothed the way I had feared or hoped. No, he was in just his pants, the strength of his body revea
Natasha’s POV“So, any update yet?”Her voice crackled through the phone, impatient and sharp.I was lying across the bed, one arm tucked under my head, the other holding the phone close to my ear. I frowned at the ceiling, confused at the sudden rush in her tone. “About what?” I asked slowly.There was silence for a second, the kind that wasn’t empty but heavy with disbelief. Then Lani exhaled so hard into the receiver I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear. “Are you seriously asking me that?” she snapped.“Yes?” I muttered, still not catching up.“Natasha,” she said my name with the kind of irritation only she could carry. “Has he screwed you yet? Are you carrying a child? Has anything happened between you two at all? Just give me an update before I lose my damn mind.”I choked on my own breath, eyes widening, and for a moment I was too stunned to say anything. Then it hit me, the ridiculousness of her bluntness, the raw impatience in her voice, and I burst out laughing.The s
Ashley’s POVI had been drifting in and out of the Kingdom these past few weeks, never staying long enough to draw attention, never gone long enough to be forgotten completely. My excuses were always the same—work, modeling, meetings, auditions—but the truth was, I had been trying desperately to glue together the fragments of a career that had already slipped too far out of my grip. I kept convincing myself that if I stayed consistent, if I showed up enough, something would click back into place. But it hadn’t. No matter how many times I tried, no matter how many rehearsals I attended or how many smiles I forced, nothing seemed to fit anymore. The world that once belonged to me now moved without me, and every attempt to catch up only reminded me how far behind I had fallen.That was what weighed on me as I sat in front of my mirror, brushes and powders scattered across the vanity like weapons I no longer knew how to wield. My reflection looked pale under the yellow light, my cheekbone
Lucien’s POVThe chamber still hummed with the weight of Malik’s words, though no one dared speak further. The silence stretched, heavy as stone, pressing against the air until even the faintest rustle of robes or shifting of chairs became deafening.I could feel the fury rising in me, slow at first, then sharper, hotter, like iron left too long in flame. Elder Malik’s voice replayed in my head, every syllable cutting like a blade dragged over raw flesh. “The Elders are meant to guide you, not to follow you into the pit.”Pit.The word itself clung to me, burned into me, a word spoken in the open council chamber before my wife, before my Queen, before the very people who had sworn to stand with me in strength, not to carve weakness into the walls of my rule.I fixed my eyes on Malik where he sat, his posture rigid, his face refusing to break even as I held his gaze. Fury was a living thing inside me now, pulsing, tightening in my chest, begging to be loosed in a wave that would crush
Natasha’s POVThe silence that followed the introductions still pressed down on me, thick and suffocating. I thought perhaps it would end there, that the King had only wanted me to sit beside him, endure their stares, and nothing more. But Lucien leaned back in his chair, his posture sharp and commanding, and his voice cut through the quiet like a blade.“Also,” he began, his tone so calm it only made my stomach twist tighter, “I’ve called this meeting to inform everyone that there will be another event.”My chest tightened instantly.Every Elder turned their eyes toward him, the room growing even heavier. The golden light from the chandeliers seemed harsher now, bouncing off the polished wood of the long table, catching on the silver rings some of the Elders wore, reflecting in their narrowed gazes.Lucien did not flinch beneath any of it. His voice remained level, steady, merciless.“Her place here will be announced again,” he said, his hand gesturing faintly in my direction, his wo