The air between us grew tense, charged with an undercurrent of sothing I couldn’t quite na. My mind raced, trying to find the right response, sothing that would keep from giving too much away. But with the way he was looking at , it felt impossible to hide anything.
"Should I be?" I asked, aiming for a casual tone even as my heart pounded in my chest. "Or is this just another one of your gas?"
His eyes flickered, amusent flashing in their depths. "You wound ," he replied, the mock hurt in his voice about as sincere as a wolf pretending to be ta. He stepped closer, closing the distance between us, and I found myself rooted to the spot, unable to look away.
"Gas, as you call them," he continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "are reserved for those who bore ." His gaze traced over , lingering a second too long, as if to make his point. "And you... you are far from boring."
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. I didn’t know how to respond to that—part of wanted to challenge him, to push back against whatever ga he thought he was playing. But the other part of —the one that still rembered the way his lips had felt against mine, the heat that had simred between us—wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to push him away.
"What do you want, then?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
His smirk softened into sothing almost contemplative, and he tilted his head, as if considering my question. "What do I want?" he repeated, as though tasting the words. "I thought you would have learned by now that I rarely reveal my intentions." He leaned in closer, his gaze dark and intense. "But perhaps... I’m here because I simply wanted to see you squirm a little."
I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but my pulse betrayed , quickening as he moved even closer. There was sothing about his presence, the way he seed to fill the room, that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.
He must have sensed my discomfort, because his smirk grew, a flash of satisfaction lighting his eyes. "Ah, still stubborn as ever," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. "But tell ..." His gaze drifted to my lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long. "Do you rember... the last ti I was here?"
Heat flared in my cheeks, and I cursed myself inwardly for reacting, for letting him get under my skin. I could still feel the phantom mory of his lips on mine, could still taste the faint bitterness of his kiss. And I hated that he knew it—that he could see the effect he had on , plain as day.
"That was... all you, your majesty," I managed to say, though my voice sounded unsteady, even to my own ears.
"All ?" His brows lifted, mock surprise coloring his tone. "How harsh. Here I was, thinking it was rather... enlightening for both of us." He let his gaze roam over , as if assessing anew, his expression softening into sothing unreadable. "But if that’s truly how you feel..."
He let the words hang, giving just enough space to respond. It was like he was daring to challenge him, to call him out for what we both knew was a lie. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to.
"Whatever it was, it doesn’t need repeating," I said, forcing my voice to steady, even though my pulse betrayed , hamring wildly against my ribs.
He chuckled, a dark, knowing sound. "Oh, I see. You’re playing coy now." He crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as if to give so space, yet his presence remained as overwhelming as ever. "It’s amusing, watching you pretend that kiss didn’t affect you."
My cheeks burned hotter, and I fought the urge to look away. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," I replied, though the words sounded hollow.
"Don’t you?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost intimate murmur. "Because I rember a different story—a story where you didn’t exactly pull away."
I swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze, the way his words seed to wrap around , trapping in place. Part of wanted to deny it, to throw his words back at him, but the mory of that kiss—the heat, the intensity—lingered, leaving defenseless.
He must have noticed, because his smirk softened, his expression shifting into sothing that almost resembled... satisfaction? No, that couldn’t be right. Yet, for a split second, I thought I saw sothing in his eyes, sothing that hinted at a depth I hadn’t expected.
But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by the sa calculated amusent, the sa dark glint that had haunted since the day I arrived.
"Relax," he said, his tone light, mocking. "I won’t steal another kiss... unless you beg, of course."
I clenched my fists, my jaw tight with frustration, refusing to rise to his bait. "I would rather kiss a snake."
"Careful," he warned, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I might just take that as a challenge."
Before I could respond, he reached out, his hand grazing my shoulder, the touch light yet sohow electric, sending a jolt of awareness through . His fingers lingered, tracing a slow, deliberate path down my arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he pulled away, stepping back with a smirk that held a promise of things yet to co.
"I’ll be seeing you soon," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. And with that, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving standing there, breathless, my mind spinning with a whirlwind of emotions I didn’t even want to na.
I sank down onto the bed, feeling the weight of his presence lingering in the air, a tangible reminder of the power he held over . And as much as I hated to admit it, a part of was already counting the monts until our next encounter.
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