KayElle

Lady Seraphina Evernight never imagined her wedding day would feel like a death sentence. Forced to marry the ruthless Duke Adrian Valemont, the very man suspected of destroying her family, she vows to uncover the truth and make him pay. But the deeper she digs into Adrian’s past, the more she realizes that her father’s downfall was no simple betrayal—secrets buried in blood and deceit may shatter everything she thought she knew.

Yet Adrian is not the monster she expected. Behind his cold eyes lies a man battling demons of his own, and the more she seeks revenge, the more she finds herself tangled in a web of court intrigue, deadly whispers, and a desire she never anticipated.

In a marriage built on vengeance, can love ever take root? Or will their vows be written in thorns and ruin?

VOW OF THORNS

Chapter 31: The Edge of Deception

Seraphina's fingers curled around the stem of her champagne flute as she watched Delacroix retreat into the mingling crowd. He masked it well, but she had seen it—the fleeting shift in his demeanor, the moment doubt crept in.

Adrian leaned in slightly, his voice low and deliberate. "He'll make his move soon."

Seraphina lifted the glass to her lips, taking a measured sip. "Let's make sure he does."

The grandeur of Montverre's estate surrounded them—gilded chandeliers cast a golden glow over the ballroom, and laughter and conversation wove a tapestry of carefully crafted deception. Here, power was not wielded in open battles but in whispers exchanged over crystal goblets.

And tonight, she intended to tip the scales.

A familiar presence caught her attention—Laurent. He stood near the far end of the room, posture deceptively casual, but his gaze sharp. Adrian had named him as part of the intricate game they played, a deliberate move in a war fought with shadows.

Adrian's hand brushed lightly against hers, the briefest of touches guiding her toward the balcony doors. "Come," he murmured. "The night is far from over."

The cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth of the ballroom, carrying with it the scent of candle wax and distant roses. Beyond the balcony, the estate gardens stretched in carefully curated elegance, candlelit paths winding through sculpted hedges. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt peaceful.

Seraphina turned to face Adrian fully, her voice quiet but certain. "Laurent is ready."

Adrian's expression remained unreadable. "Then it's time we set the next trap."

She studied him, watching the subtle shifts beneath his composed exterior. "Laurent is more than just another piece on the board to you, isn't he?"

A flicker of something—amusement, perhaps something darker—crossed his face. "You noticed."

She arched a brow. "I notice everything."

His smirk was brief. "Yes, you do."

Silence stretched between them, thick with words left unspoken. Then, in a motion almost too soft for the conversation they were having, Adrian reached for her hand, his thumb grazing her knuckles.

"If we press Delacroix too hard, he'll bolt," Adrian said. "He needs to believe he still holds control."

Seraphina's lips curved in something close to satisfaction. "He lost control the moment he saw me tonight."

Adrian chuckled lowly. "You do have a way of unraveling men, my dear."

She tilted her head slightly, her voice silk over steel. "And yet, you remain standing."

Adrian's fingers tightened ever so slightly around hers. "Do I?" he murmured, his voice dipping into something quieter, something heavier.

The moment stretched, charged with an intensity neither of them named. Then—

A shadow shifted near the garden entrance.

Adrian released her hand, his demeanor shifting instantly. "It begins."

Laurent's gaze met theirs, his expression unreadable, but the inclination of his head was a silent confirmation.

Seraphina's pulse quickened. The night's careful maneuvering had led them to this moment. The game was no longer confined to waltzes and polite conversation.

Tonight, the real battle would begin.