Page 32 of Red Queen

“You, not just this.”

“Alexandru, this intertwining of our fates is nothing more than mere physical hunger...” I pause, letting the weight of my words hang in the frosty air between us.

He smirks and sits up. “We shall see, my fallen Queen. Just as I’ll be the one to vanquish Catarina, so too will I claim victory over you, Eleanna. But understand this”—he leans closer, his breath a warm caress against my cold skin—“it’s not merely conquest I seek but a partner worthy of my deepest lust and, indeed, my love.”

I freeze. Not love, he doesn’t, if he ever did. This is lust speaking, nothing more. We don’t like each other at our cores. “You don’t love me.”

He shakes his head. “I mean it. You’re mine, Eleanna. My woman, my lover. No one else dares to lay a finger on what is rightfully mine.”

His words send a shiver of fear through me, even as they ignite a flame that roars through me.

I push against his chest and sit up, glaring. “I belong to no one, Alexandru. I am the queen of my own desires.”

Yet as I speak, there’s a tremor in my heart, a fluttering sensation that threatens to disrupt the walls I’ve built around it. A warmth that has no business being there, spreading despite my best efforts to smother it. I won’t have it.

He’s the most dangerous man I’ve ever met.

I rise from the bed and reach for my clothes scattered across the floor, each movement deliberate, refusing to reveal any hint of the turmoil brewing inside. The cold bites at my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the chill creeping into the hollows of my chest.

Fingers trembling, I lace up my corset. The intricate patterns of the raven and skull tattoo on my calf are exposed in the dim light filtering through the window. But the sight of my family crest no longer brings comfort—it feels like a brand marking me for a destiny I’m suddenly uncertain of.

“Eleanna,” he says, but I don’t dare look back.

If I do, he might not be able to leave and he may see my feelings for him are morphing into something precarious, something alarmingly real. “It was nothing.”

“Eleanna,” he tries again. “Don’t go.”

“Save your breath, General,” I say, cutting him off like a blow from my sword. This...what we have...it’s just a passing treaty. Enjoy it while it lasts.” The words are bitter on my tongue, but I force them out, cloaking my vulnerability in bravado.

With a swift motion, I tie my dark red garments, the fabric clinging to my curves—a shield of Gothic elegance. I glance at the mirror briefly, my bright blue eyes betraying a flicker of doubt before I steel them into resolve.

The last thing I hear is the rustling of sheets as I stride toward the door, my steps echoing with a steely determination that I have to muster. I know he watches me leave because the weight of his gaze hooks into me—an anchor trying to hold me back.

Nevertheless, I walk out and close the door behind me with a finality that echoes in the silence of the chamber. As soon as the latch clicks into place, something within me fractures, sending fissures through the fortress of my soul. And I know—I fear—that this time, it might not be so easy to rebuild.

Chapter

Six

Alexandru

The fortress gates groan open, a herald to the icy winds that nip at my skin as my officers, Ivan, Henry, Nicolai, and Marianne, ride out together. I tighten my grip on the reins, urging my powerful steed forward into the barren winter landscape. Snow blankets the earth, a pristine veil disturbed only by the rhythm of our horses’ hooves crunching the frozen ground beneath.

I left Eleanna behind. She needs more combat training and I’m not about to put someone out into a fight who isn’t going to pass my base line standards.

Oh, she’s good, better than good. And she could, if it came down to it, hold her own. But if it came down to it is something I’m keen to avoid. She’s a queen not an actual warrior and if we’re both out fighting, I don’t want to worry about her.

I sigh. What the fuck am I thinking? I’d still protect her. But Eleanna who is better prepared, has real skills means it’s not a suicide mission on my part.

She didn’t argue as I suspected and only told me to be careful. Of course, there was no kiss or tears. Not that I expected those, but the ice was a nice touch.

Where people should be, emptiness and desolation rules. The fighting hasn’t reached here but people have gone underground or thrown in with the fortress. Still, where even in winter the lands would be worked and alive were now abandoned.

“Fuck Catarina and her deceitfulness,” Ivan snarls from beside me, his breath a cloud of vapor in the frigid air.

“The promised fighters?” I ask.

Henry curses under his breath. “Some can’t get out, I’ll wager.”

---