Elena POV:
I never thought I’d see the day when I was grateful to be trapped in Ace’s fortress.
But tonight?
Tonight, I almost died.
The attack ca out of nowhere—one mont, I was in the courtyard, stretching my legs after another failed escape attempt, and the next, chaos erupted.
The air filled with snarls and growls, the sickening sound of flesh tearing, bones snapping. Rogues. At least a dozen of them, maybe more, erging from the shadows like feral beasts.
Ace’s n barely had ti to react before the invaders struck.
I could’ve run. I should’ve. But sothing in the air—a pressure, a pulse of energy—froze in place.
Then I saw him.
Ace.
And for the first ti... I realized I had no fucking clue who I was really dealing with.
He didn’t just fight.
He destroyed.
One rogue lunged at him, teeth bared—Ace caught him mid-air by the throat, his grip like a steel vice. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the rogue crashing into the ground so hard that the earth cracked beneath him.
Another ca from behind—Ace dodged without even looking, moving like he had eyes on the back of his head. He twisted, claws extending from his fingertips, and ripped out the rogue’s throat in one clean swipe.
What the fuck...?
I’d seen fights before. I’d seen Kane lose himself to his darkness, But this?
This was different.
Ace wasn’t fighting with rage or fury—he was precise. Cold. Calculated.
A monster who knew exactly how much pain to inflict and didn’t hesitate for a second.
And the worst part?
He was enjoying it.
I should’ve been afraid.
Any sane person would be.
But instead, I was srized.
He moved like a shadow, his strikes too fast for my eyes to follow. One rogue made the mistake of thinking he had an opening—Ace let him get close, let him swing his blade—only to grab the knife mid-swing with his bare hand.
For a second, I thought he was hurt. But then I saw it.
The smirk.
Slow. Sinister. Deadly.
Ace twisted his hand, snapping the rogue’s wrist like it was nothing. The man barely had ti to scream before Ace drove the very sa knife into his heart.
The rogues started hesitating.
I could sll their fear.
Ace straightened, his erald-green eyes gleaming in the dim moonlight. "Who’s next?"
Silence.
One by one, the remaining rogues turned tail and ran.
Ace let them go.
Not because he was rciful—because he wanted them to spread the ssage.
That he was still the King of Rogues.
What the Hell is He?
I stood there, still frozen, my heart pounding.
Then Ace turned to .
His eyes were still glowing.
I should have looked away, should have flinched, but I didn’t. I just stared right back at him, my breath shallow.
For the first ti, I saw him for what he really was.
Not just a rogue.
Not just my captor.
Sothing... more.
And for the first ti... I wanted to know everything.
I learned the truth later—after the blood had dried, after the corpses had been dragged away, after the scent of death no longer choked the air.
The rogues hadn’t just attacked out of greed or desperation.
They had co for .
I should’ve seen it sooner.
The way Ace’s n watched when they thought I wasn’t looking. The way so of them spoke in hushed voices, their gazes shifting between and Ace like they were trying to figure out why their ruthless leader was keeping a prisoner.
They had seen it.
And worse—they misunderstood it.
Ace, the King of Rogues, the monster who ruled with an iron grip, the man no one dared to defy—had supposedly gone soft.
Because of .
And they thought they could take him down for it.
The attack wasn’t just about power.
It was a rebellion.
A test.
A way to see if their leader—the most feared rogue alive—had truly weakened.
And their target?
.
They wanted to kill to prove a point. To show that Ace had lost his edge—that he was no longer fit to rule.
I should’ve been terrified.
And maybe a part of was.
But the other part—the stronger, angrier part—was just pissed off.
Because I wasn’t so fucking pawn in their ga.
Ace had won.
Of course, he had.
He had slaughtered them without rcy, without hesitation, and without breaking a sweat.
And when it was over?
He didn’t say a word.
He just stood there, blood splattered across his face, his erald eyes unreadable as he stared at .
Like he was waiting.
Like he was expecting to run.
But I didn’t.
******
I should’ve known better.
I should’ve seen it coming.
But the bastard played .
And now... now I was about to pay the price.
It started with a simple challenge.
"Let’s play a ga, little pet." Ace had said, his lips curling into a smirk as he set up the chessboard in front of .
I narrowed my eyes. "What kind of ga?"
He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lazily against the armrest. "Chess."
My heart skipped.
I had played chess countless tis with my father growing up. I knew this ga. I knew the strategy, the patience, the sacrifice it required.
I could win.
"And what do I get when I win?" I asked, already liking my chances.
Ace tilted his head, studying with amusent before he leaned forward. "If you win, I’ll let you go."
I froze. "You’re serious?"
He nodded. "Completely."
It was too good to be true.
But then he added, "And if I win... I get to kiss you."
I should have backed out right then.
I should have known this was a trap.
But the thought of finally getting out of here made reckless.
And, really, how bad could it be?
I could win.
I watched as he moved the first pawn, his movents slow and deliberate.
Good. He was underestimating .
I smirked as I countered, moving my knight out early, already planning a strong opening.
For the first fifteen minutes, everything was going perfectly.
Ace played aggressively, sacrificing pawns like they were nothing, opening up his defenses in ways that should have cost him the ga.
I took his rook.
Then his bishop.
Then his queen.
I was winning.
My confidence grew with every move.
Ace, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed.
Smug, even.
I should have been worried.
But I wasn’t.
Because I was one move away.
Checkmate was coming.
And then—
Everything fell apart.
I moved my queen, ready to force his king into a corner.
And that’s when I saw it.
The trap.
A perfect, calculated, carefully orchestrated trap.
I had been so focused on winning that I didn’t see it.
I didn’t realize I had been playing right into his hands.
Ace sighed, shaking his head like he was disappointed in . "You really thought I was losing, didn’t you?"
My stomach dropped. "Wait—"
Ace moved one piece.
Just one.
Checkmate.
I stared at the board in horror.
No.
No, no, no.
I had been winning.
I was so close.
I—
"Looks like I win," Ace said smugly, his erald eyes gleaming with victory.
I wanted to flip the damn board.
Instead, I sat there, fuming.
This was bullshit.
There was no way he was this good at chess.
I sat there, staring at the board, fuming.
"I want a redo."
Ace chuckled, amused. "Okay."
I was determined this ti. I wouldn’t make the sa mistake. I kept my guard up, watched for traps, and thought ahead—
And yet, he beat again.
This ti, too quickly.
Too easily.
My pride was screaming.
I refused to admit defeat. "Again."
Ace smirked but humored . "Alright, little wolf."
Third ti’s the charm, right?
I took a deep breath, focused.
I played more carefully this ti, double-checking every move, trying to read him, but—
He was too good.
Every ti I thought I had him, I didn’t.
Every ti I tried to trap him, he was already three steps ahead.
I hated how effortless it was for him.
I hated the way his erald eyes glead in amusent, like he was playing with rather than actually trying.
And when he beat again, I wanted to scream.
Before I could demand another round, Ace stood up, stretching lazily. "It’s too late, little pet. Let’s eat first."
Then he smirked, eyes darkening. "And you already owe three kisses. Next ga, I want sothing more."
Fuck.
I had forgotten about the kisses.
Ace chuckled, enjoying my misery. "Relax, let’s eat first."
Then, before I could protest, he reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I should have yanked it away.
I should have fought.
But instead, I let him lead , my mind still reeling over my three stupid losses.
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