Chapter 34: Between Fire and Ash

The tension in the room was unbearable.

Seraphina stood by the fireplace, arms crossed tightly over her chest, watching as Adrian removed his coat with practiced ease. The flickering flames cast golden shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more dangerous than he already was.

Dangerous. That was the word she always clung to when she looked at him, when she felt the heat of his presence so near. It was easier than acknowledging the other things—the way her breath hitched when he moved too close, the way her pulse betrayed her in his presence.

But tonight, she had no escape.

They had returned from the Montverre estate with a name that changed everything. Leclair. The weight of it lingered in the air, thick and suffocating. But it wasn't only the revelation that made her restless—it was him.

Him and the way he was watching her now.

Adrian's shirt was half undone, his sleeves rolled up, exposing the strength of his forearms. He leaned against the edge of the desk, studying her with an unreadable expression.

"You've been quiet," he murmured.

Seraphina swallowed. "I'm thinking."

His lips curved slightly. "About what?"

She hesitated, then turned toward the fire. "Everything."

She could feel his presence behind her before he even moved. A slow, deliberate step. Then another. The heat of him at her back sent a shiver down her spine, and when he finally spoke, his voice was impossibly low.

"Tell me."

She closed her eyes, trying to steel herself. He's your enemy. Isn't he?

Except that lie no longer held the power it once did.

She turned her head slightly, just enough to see him in her periphery. His dark eyes were waiting, patient yet intense.

Seraphina exhaled. "I don't trust you."

His hand lifted, and for a breathless moment, she thought he would touch her. Instead, he braced it against the fireplace mantel, caging her between the stone and his body. Not touching. But close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"And yet," he murmured, voice like smoke, "you're here."

Her heart pounded. "Because I have no choice."

He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Don't you?"

She turned fully now, her back pressing against the stone. He was so close that if she moved even an inch, they would touch. His scent surrounded her, dark and heady, and her breath hitched when his gaze dipped to her lips.

This was a mistake.

A terrible, devastating mistake.

She needed to move. Needed to break away before she did something reckless.

But Adrian reached for her first.

Slowly, carefully, his fingers traced the underside of her jaw, tilting her chin up. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin.

Her lips parted, but the words wouldn't come.

Because she didn't want him to stop.

She saw it in his eyes—the same war raging inside her. This wasn't just power or control or strategy anymore. This was something neither of them had planned for. Something neither of them could seem to fight.

But then, at the last second, Adrian's jaw tightened, and he pulled away. His fingers lingered on her skin for a fraction longer than necessary before he let her go entirely.

The distance between them felt like a chasm.

Seraphina exhaled sharply, her body still betraying her, still aching from his nearness. "This changes nothing," she whispered.

He smirked, but there was something dangerous in his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that, Duchess."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the bed.

She stared after him, pulse still racing.

This was spiraling out of control. And she had no idea how to stop it.

But did she even want to?