A loud cry tore through the crowd, and soon everyone followed, each shouting their claims, their accusations.
Leia only laughed bitterly, dragging her thigh closer with a painful grunt. The wound was deep. It would take time to heal, if anyone even bothered to treat her. And judging by the looks, they wouldn't. Tearing a strip from her already tattered gown, she wrapped it tightly around her thigh, hissing as she tied the knot.
Her gaze fell on the dagger beside her. She picked it up, steadying herself as she stood and turned toward the host to demand her release from the arena.
"The fight was won fair and square. Cheating has always been allowed," the host declared. Leia could tell he was defending her against his will, but rules were rules, and they have never banned cheating.
"You have your Luna now!" Casimir's voice thundered from the tent above. Then he turned his back and walked away.
Taking that as her cue, Leia began limping toward the exit where she had been brought in. Behind her, the crowd still erupted in furious disagreement, their anger swirling like a storm.
As she made her way down the corridor, her vision blurred. She shook her head again and again, trying to stay awake, at least until she reached her room. Fainting inside was better than collapsing in front of them all, not after killing one of their own.
"We are almost there," she whispered to herself, forcing one step after another. But her body had reached its limit, and before she could fight it, she collapsed onto the cold floor.
…
A low groan escaped her lips as she stirred, slowly opening her eyes. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar. Panic rushed through her veins as she jolted upright, until her gaze met two onyx eyes she recognized instantly. Cold. Indifferent. Distant. Her heart stuttered in her chest.
"I was about to order them to build a coffin for you," Casimir said, his voice deep and darkly smooth. "We were worried you wouldn't wake up."
That voice, so dangerously calm, it made her wonder how someone so feared could sound so sinfully composed. Pushing herself up, Leia threw off the duvet and tried to stand, but her legs gave way instantly, sending her crashing back to the ground.
"The stab was deep," he said, not moving. "It will take days to heal properly."
His words triggered the memories, the arena, the fight, the blood. Looking down, she noticed the fresh gown she wore, finer than the last. Her heart skipped. Had he… changed her?
Lifting the hem of her gown, she saw the wound had been cleaned and dressed. Confusion flickered through her. Why would he do this?
"Why are you helping me?" She asked, gripping the bedpost for support.
Casimir smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes. He rose, walking toward the table with quiet confidence. As he uncorked a glass of dark liquor, Leia's eyes caught on the red robe he was draped in, and the fact that he wore nothing underneath.
Then she saw them, two naked women, fast asleep on the floor. Her stomach turned. He had sex while she was lying unconscious in the same room. Disgust burned in her chest. He was even filthier than she had imagined.
"Shouldn't you be grateful instead?" He said smoothly, lifting the glass to his lips.
Leia's gaze snapped back to him. The smirk on his face, the glint in his dark eyes, it was infuriating, magnetic, and dangerous all at once. The air between them thickened, alive with tension neither of them acknowledged.
"I never asked for your help," she spat, locking eyes with him.
"What kind of husband would I be if I just watched my wife rot in pain?" He replied mockingly, a wicked glint flashing across his face as he downed another glass of liquor.
"So you think doing that will make me love you?" She scoffed, earning a low chuckle from him, one that made her blood boil.
"I already have enough love from my people," he said coolly, his gaze drifting to the naked women sprawled across the floor before returning to her. "You are the one who needs it."
Leia caught the meaning instantly. Her lips curled into a sharp smirk. "I would rather die than receive love from you." On the surface, her tone was steady, but inside, her pulse thundered. She wasn't afraid of him, she was afraid of what he could do. If he wanted to have his way, he would. Casimir was stronger, faster, and far more dangerous than any opponent she had faced. Tactics wouldn't save her this time.
"Why? Are you afraid you might fall for me?" He taunted, setting the glass down as he began closing the distance between them.
Leia tried stepping back, but her thigh burned in protest, forcing her to stay rooted. Her breathing quickened as he advanced, each step perfectly in sync with her heartbeat. His silence carried weight, an authority that pressed against her chest. Should she run? How far could she possibly get?
He stopped just a step away, his gaze dropping to her wounded thigh. "Whether or not you want love from me," he said quietly, his tone dark, "you will have no choice but to accept it because I will be the only hand reaching out to you."
Her fingers curled into fists. He was right, and they both knew it. If Casimir commanded no one to help her, not a soul would dare defy him.
"What do you want then?" She demanded through clenched teeth. "To sleep with me? An heir?" Her eyes burned into his, defiant, trembling.
"You reek of him," he spat. "I wouldn't touch what his hands have tainted, unless it belonged to me first."
Her brows furrowed. Him? Andrien?
"Then why agree to marry me?" She pressed, pushing him. "Why take your brother's wife when you despise him the most?"
"Because you were his," Casimir said simply, his voice cold and laced with venom. "And that alone infuriates me."
Leia stared at him, confused and horrified. His eyes burned, not with desire, but with hatred so sharp it almost felt personal.
"Why do I have to suffer for that? Why take my child just to feed your vengeance?" Her voice cracked, heavy with grief and fury.
"Your child?" He repeated with a cruel smirk. "Who do you think killed your child? Didn't your family tell you? Seems you never meant much to them."
Her chest tightened as she searched his face for deceit, but his smirk didn't falter. And that terrified her more than any truth.
"Let me go," she said, her voice low. "You have no need for me."
"Sure," he said with mock sweetness. "On one condition. You die."
The room went still. Whatever hope had flickered in her chest when he said sure shattered instantly.
"You are bound to me now and forever," he continued, his voice smooth, cruel. "No matter how many times you try to run or kill me, you will never succeed." He smirked, eyes gleaming with finality. "I own you now."