Marvel 195

Max didn't head home. Instead, he drove into the city, the lights sharpening in his windshield as he wove through the quiet streets. He had a different destination in mind — a place he knew Emma liked to frequent when she wasn't draped in diamond necklaces and political power plays.

A discreet, high-end lounge tucked between two art galleries, exclusive enough to keep the wrong kinds of people out but not so flashy that it made the news. He parked a block away, checked his reflection in the rearview mirror, and adjusted the collar of his jacket. His usual devil-may-care look would do; it sold the kind of charm he needed tonight.

Inside, the lounge was dim and warm, jazz spilling softly from the speakers. Max's eyes scanned the room — and there she was. Emma Frost.

She sat in a secluded corner, a glass of something expensive in one hand, her posture relaxed but regal, the kind of presence that demanded attention without asking for it. She was alone, though Max knew better than to think she was unguarded.

He approached casually, hands in his pockets, as if he had simply stumbled across her. As if fate, not design, had drawn him here.

Emma's gaze flicked up to him, cool and assessing, the faintest hint of amusement curling her lips.

"Mr. Ryder" she said, her voice like silk over steel. "To what do I owe this surprise?"

He slid into the seat across from her, uninvited but not unwelcome — not yet.

"Just a coincidence," he lied easily. "Thought I'd find a quiet place for a drink. Guess luck's on my side tonight."

She tilted her head, studying him the way a cat studies a bird it hasn't decided whether to kill or play with.

"Luck," she repeated, her tone skeptical but teasing. "I don't believe in luck."

Max leaned forward slightly, offering her a slow, disarming smile.

"Neither do I. I believe in making my own."

There was a spark between them, faint but electric, crackling just beneath the surface. Emma set down her glass, her fingers tapping lightly against its side.

She chuckled softly.

"Forgive me, Mr. Ryder, but I'm not exactly in the mood for company," she said as she sipped her drink.

Max leaned back, watching her carefully."I went to Frost International looking for you. Heard you were kidnapped," he said casually. "Yet here you are, drinking. Strange, isn't it?"

"I am here," Emma replied coolly. "And if you don't want to end up dead, you should be careful too."

Max chuckled this time, a low, amused sound."Don't you watch the news?" he asked, tilting his head. " I am pretty famous as Dragon Knight."

Emma didn't smile. Instead, she slowly pulled back her sleeve, revealing a faint, glowing mark on her wrist — a thin band of energy burned into her skin.

"They can suppress mutant powers," she said, her voice edged with bitterness. "Caught me off guard. Now I'm just a little bird in a lavish cage... not the powerful White Queen everyone fears."

"And they're not just sneaky tricks with surprises up their sleeves," Emma said, her voice low. "They're strong too. I fought them... and I was defeated. Then imprisoned," she added bitterly. "And I'm powerful enough to flip this city upside down, Mr. Ryder. I knew our companies were going to collaborate, but I guess we've reached the point of no return. It's over for both of us."

She sighed, her shoulders heavy with exhaustion. Max leaned closer, studying her intently.

"You're... beautiful," he said quietly.

"Huh?" Emma blinked, caught off guard, staring at him.

"I mean it," Max said, smirking a little. "You're fierce and wounded, but you're still stunning. And that frown you're wearing? It doesn't suit your face. You were made for something more... powerful."

Emma narrowed her eyes, not sure whether to slap him or laugh. Before she could decide, he reached out, holding his hand over the glowing mark on her wrist.

"I'm here to save you," Max said, his voice softer now. "And I'd kind of like to see just how powerful the people who hurt you really are."

Emma hesitated, instinct telling her to pull away — but something stopped her. Maybe it was the way Max looked at her. Like she wasn't just the White Queen, a pawn or a weapon, but a person worth saving.

Max closed his hand gently around her wrist. A faint shimmer passed between them. Emma gasped softly as the burning mark faded, disappearing like mist under the morning sun.

"You're free now," Max whispered as he let her go.

For the first time that night, Emma didn't know what to say.

Emma stared at her wrist, flexing her fingers slowly. The faint shimmer of her telepathic aura began to return, like a tide cautiously rolling back in after a storm. She glanced up at Max, suspicion flickering in her ice-blue eyes.

"How did you do that?" she demanded, her voice sharper now, back to its usual commanding tone.

Max only shrugged, that roguish grin still playing at his lips."I have my ways," he said. "Let's just say I know a few tricks they don't teach at Xavier's."

Emma rose from her chair, the easy grace returning to her movements, the White Queen slowly reawakening. Power crackled at her fingertips, a warning — a reminder of who she truly was.

"You're either very brave, or very stupid," she said, stepping closer to him, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. "Saving me comes with consequences, Max Ryder. I'm not in the habit of owing favors."

Max didn't flinch. He held her gaze with a lazy confidence that made her skin prickle.

"Good," he said. "Because I'm not interested in favors."

"Then what are you interested in?" she asked, arching an elegant brow.

Max's smile turned slow, deliberate."You."

For a heartbeat, the room was silent except for the soft hum of power in the air. Emma's pulse quickened despite herself. She was used to being admired, even feared — but this was different. Max wasn't dazzled or intimidated. He saw her — the broken, dangerous woman beneath the diamonds and ice.

"You don't know what you're asking for," she said, voice low.

"I know exactly what I'm asking for," Max replied. He leaned in just a fraction, enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him. "And I'm not afraid."

Emma's lips parted slightly, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue. But instead, she found herself smiling — a real smile, small and dangerous.

"Careful, Mr. Ryder," she murmured. "You might just get what you want."

Max chuckled, stepping back, giving her space — and showing her he wasn't trying to trap her.

"I'm counting on it," he said, flashing one last grin before turning toward the door. "I'll be in touch, Your Majesty."

Emma watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind him. Alone, she touched her wrist again, feeling the pulse of her restored powers — and something else stirring deep inside her.

Max Ryder was dangerous. Reckless. Unpredictable.

And for the first time in a long time... she didn't mind.

***

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