Chapter 52

Tharx was unraveling.

He sat in the dim glow of his chambers, a goblet of wine in his hand, untouched. The documents before him blurred together-battle reports, intercepted messages, warnings of shifting alliances-but none of them held his attention. His mind was elsewhere.

On her.

His composure had never failed him before. It was his greatest weapon, his shield against weakness. He had built his empire on control-of himself, of his court, of every enemy that had dared to rise against him.

And yet, she was undoing him.

He had barely slept since their last confrontation, since she had forced him to face what he had been avoiding for far too long. Aeliana was many things-brilliant, defiant, dangerous-but most of all, she was right.

He had made her part of this war.

He had made her his weakness.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor outside made him tense. He knew who it was before he saw her. He had felt her presence long before she had even approached.

She stepped into view, pausing at the end of the hall, her sharp gaze cutting through the distance between them. Even from across the palace, he felt her challenge.

Aeliana was not going to let him ignore what was happening between them.

Neither was he.

Aeliana had spent the entire day watching him, waiting for him to slip.

He had been avoiding her-or, at least, trying to. But the cracks in his usual icy exterior were beginning to show. She saw it in the way his shoulders tensed when she entered a room, in the way his golden eyes flickered to her when he thought she wasn't looking.

She was tired of waiting for him to break.

So she would push him until he did.

Late that night, she found him in the war room, standing over a map of the empire, his hands braced against the table. Candlelight flickered against the harsh lines of his face, shadows deepening in the sharp angles of his jaw. He looked utterly composed-a lie she no longer believed.

She stepped inside, letting the doors close behind her.

"You're avoiding me."

He didn't look up. "You overestimate your importance."

Aeliana smirked, stepping closer. "Do I?"

Silence.

She moved until she was just across from him, the table between them. His eyes flicked up, golden and unreadable.

"You've been different," she said. "Since that night."

His fingers curled against the map, knuckles whitening. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Aeliana laughed, low and sharp. "Yes, you do."

Tharx exhaled, long and slow, but there was an edge to it-the edge of a man barely holding on to something dangerous.

She pushed forward. "Tell me, Tharx, do you regret it?"

His gaze snapped to hers. "Regret what?"

She tilted her head, voice turning softer-mocking. "That you let yourself slip. That for just one second, you let yourself feel something you can't control."

Tharx straightened. His silence was more telling than any words.

"You want to pretend it didn't happen," she continued, "but you can't, can you?"

His jaw tensed.

Aeliana took another step forward, placing her hands on the table between them, mirroring his stance. "You told me I don't understand the cost of power."

"You don't."

Her lips curled into something cold and sharp. "Then why did you make me part of it?"

The question hit its mark.

For the first time, Tharx faltered.

His grip on the table tightened. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

And still-he had no answer.

Aeliana's pulse pounded. "If I was never meant to be in this war, then why did you bring me into it?"

Still, silence.

Something inside her snapped.

She shoved him, her palms pressing against his chest. He barely moved, his body rigid as stone, but the act itself sent shockwaves through the air between them.

Tharx's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.

Tension crackled.

Her breath hitched. His fingers pressed into her skin, not painful, but firm-holding her there, refusing to let her go.

The space between them collapsed.

Aeliana's heart hammered. His breath was uneven, golden eyes locked onto hers with something dark and consuming.

The moment stretched, heavy and unbearable.

And then-

He kissed her.

It wasn't soft.

It wasn't gentle.

It was a battle, a clash of two people who had spent too long circling each other, too long denying something that had already consumed them both.

His lips crashed against hers, fierce and demanding, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her against him. Aeliana gasped against his mouth, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, her body burning from the inside out.

It was raw. Desperate.

Like he hated himself for wanting her this much.

Like he couldn't stop.

His hand slid to her back, pressing her closer, as if he could erase the distance between them entirely. Aeliana kissed him back just as fiercely, her body trembling with something she refused to name.

And then-

He pulled away.

Just as fast as he had given in, he ripped himself away from her, his breath ragged, his body tense with restraint.

Aeliana staggered slightly, dazed, her lips still tingling from the force of him.

Tharx stood before her, his chest rising and falling sharply, his eyes wild with something she had never seen before.

Something dangerous.

Something vulnerable.

But then-

His walls snapped back into place.

He turned without a word.

Without a single glance back, he strode toward the doors, his movements rigid, controlled-a man who had just committed a sin he could not allow himself to repeat.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Aeliana stood alone, the silence of the war room pressing in around her.

She reached up, touching her lips, her fingertips trembling.

Her breath was unsteady. Her pulse a wild drumbeat beneath her skin.

She had pushed him. She had forced him to face what was between them.

And he had broken.

For a moment.

Just a moment.

But it was enough.

She knew now.

Tharx could try to bury it, ignore it, fight it-but he could no longer pretend it didn't exist.

Because it did.

And now, there was no turning back.