Page 57 of Red Queen

“I’m untouched because you have protected me,” I say.

I find solace in our camaraderie—and something more, something I dare not name.

“Good. And thank you, Eleanna.” He allows himself a brief smile before his expression hardens once again.

Vulnerability has never been a suit of armor I was willing to don, as it never served a purpose in my role as queen. But beneath the bravado, I wonder if my greatest battle is with the armor around my own heart and not with Catarina.

“Sometimes, Eleanna...” He pauses, his silver eyes reflecting the vastness of the night sky. “It takes more strength to reveal one’s heart than to shield it.”

“Perhaps.”

I turn my gaze to the white expanse before us, the land untouched and serene. In contrast, a fire burns within my chest, fueled by lusty thoughts of the man beside me. His presence is both a balm and a blade, slicing through my defenses. But it’s preferable to the tenderness, and it’s something I know, something I can handle.

“Come.” I break the moment and stand, unwilling to drown in the depth of his gaze. “We have a mirror to wield and a throne to reclaim.”

“Lead the way, my beloved.” His voice is husky and gruff, trailing behind me as we set forth into the heart of winter under a sky brushed with starlight. Then he suddenly grabs my arm. “Wait. Look upward.” He points to the sky.

I follow Alexandru’s outstretched finger, and my breath catches. A star plummets, trailing fire across the obsidian canvas. For a fleeting second, hope flares within me—a symbol of transformation in this cold, unyielding world.

“Make a wish, Eleanna,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with an emotion I can’t quite place.

“Superstitions?” I ask, hiding the stirrings of something akin to wonder. “Wishes are for fools who fear to take what they desire.”

“Even fools know what their heart longs for,” he says. His gaze locks onto mine. “I’ve never stopped loving you, but I can’t condone your thirst for bloodletting. It’s not the path to true power.”

“Love?” I sneer the word though my insides twist at his admission. “You think love conquers all, General? My reign will be built on strength, not the fickle whims of the heart.”

“Strength without mercy is tyranny, Eleanna.” He stands resolute, a man of war preaching peace.

“Mercy is for the weak.” My words are ice, yet the cold doesn’t touch him.

“Then let us hope you never find yourself at its mercy.” With that, he turns away, leading our horses through the crystalline snow.

We ride in silence until the fortress looms before us, ancient stone rising against the night. Within its walls lies the promise of warmth—and an invitation I’m both drawn to and wary of.

“Eleanna,” he says as we dismount, his hand lingering on mine. “Will you share my bed tonight?”

The hesitation is a splinter under my skin. I am queen, conqueror, yet here, I falter. “Yes,” I concede, not to him but to the hunger he awakens within me.

Perhaps it makes me a fool, to want him after what he said. But I want to see what he’ll do this time, and I hunger for it all.

His chamber is a shadowed sanctuary, the firelight tantalizingly frolicking over the furs strewn across the floor. In the flickering glow, he looks every inch the warrior god—powerful, magnetic.

“Come here,” he commands, and it’s the steel in his voice that coaxes me closer, not the plea of a lover. “There are so many lessons I want teach about the art of strength in submission, in being mine, but not tonight.”

I reach for him and start to strip him, as he does the same. We work in fevered moves, leather and silk hitting the ground. The hearth’s heat has nothing on the fire between us, nothing on the sear of his touch.

Alexandru takes my mouth in a demanding kiss. It’s frustration and unfettered need, it’s carnal and wild and nothing soft about it. This is the kiss I desperately crave.

I don’t want gentle. I want this. A hard edge, a hint of blood and violence and sacrifices to the god of lust. I need to claim and be claimed.

“Alexandru,” I breathe, the word a blade cutting through the last of my defenses.

“Mine,” he growls against my flesh, a possessive declaration that sears through me.

Beneath him, I’m made of moonlight and shadows, a creature of sensuality and power. He worships at the altar of my body, and I revel in the devotion. Every touch is a brand, every caress a battle for dominance, one I willingly surrender to—for the moment.

The fortress around us could crumble, the world outside could shatter into oblivion, but here and now, nothing else exists except the raw intensity between us.

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