The wind howled outside the palace walls.
Storm clouds gathered — not just in the sky, but in every corner of Ariana's life.
She stood alone in the throne room now. The dress Damian had touched still clung to her skin. Her lips still tingled from his kiss.
But her heart?
Torn. Bruised. Bruising someone else.
Kairo stepped forward from the shadows, his tall frame tense and dangerous.
Tonight, he looked like a weapon wrapped in royalty.
His hair, jet-black and tousled.
His sharp cheekbones cut like obsidian under torchlight.
And his eyes — gods — the same haunting grey that had watched her train with him in the Veyl mountains... now watched her with something darker.
Possession.
"You kissed him," Kairo said.
"I didn't plan to."
"That's worse."
He stalked toward her slowly.
"You say you're not his. But you breathe like him. Flinch like him. Ache like him."
"Because I don't know how to stop," she whispered.
Kairo grabbed her wrist — not to hurt, but to feel.
"Then let me show you how."
He pulled her closer, their chests brushing. His breath was heavy. Her eyes widened.
"Let me ruin you so completely," he murmured, "that you forget what his hands felt like."
Ariana's heart raced.
This wasn't the shy boy from her past.
This was a man ready to claim her.
A storm wrapped in heat and loyalty.
And gods... she wanted to be taken.
"Do it," she whispered. "Make me forget."
Their mouths crashed.
Kairo lifted her effortlessly, placing her on the edge of the royal council table — maps scattering to the floor. His hands explored like he'd waited a thousand winters. "You're mine now," he growled.
"Say it."
"I'm—" she gasped as he bit her shoulder, soft and sharp.
"Louder."
"I'm yours!"
But just as their bodies tangled…
The doors flew open.
"GET OFF HER!"
Damian.
His sword drawn.
His face — pure devastation.
His voice shaking with fury.
Kairo didn't flinch.
He stood between Ariana's legs, lips still swollen, hand still at her thigh.
"You lost her," he said coolly. "Now get out."
Ariana scrambled up, dress slipping over her shoulder. Her cheeks flushed, hair wild, breathing fast.
Damian looked at her like she'd shattered his soul.
"You said you didn't know how to stop," he whispered.
"I still don't," she breathed, tears in her eyes. "But I'm tired of breaking for you."
And as she turned her back on both men…
Somewhere deep in the palace,
A blade was being sharpened.
The first blood of this love triangle was about to spill.