Crossing the Line

The war room had never felt so small. Every inch of the space was charged with the weight of decisions, but Vexaria couldn't shake the feeling that the real battle wasn't between kingdoms—it was between the two of them.

Xypheron had just given his orders to his commanders, the steel in his voice enough to make even the hardest of men tremble. But Vexaria? She wasn't afraid of him. She was afraid of the pull between them—the way every moment they spent together made the air crackle.

She couldn't be distracted now. Not with everything on the line.

But when their eyes met across the room, that familiar heat flared to life.

Xypheron stopped talking mid-sentence, his gaze locking on hers. The room seemed to shrink. His sharp, calculating eyes flickered with something raw and possessive.

Vexaria felt her heartbeat quicken, and before she knew it, she was walking toward him.

"You've made your choice," he said quietly as she stopped just inches from him, his breath warm against her cheek.

"I'm not sure I have," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Xypheron's lips twisted into a knowing smile. "You've made it. You just don't want to admit it."

She stepped closer, her body brushing against his, and for a moment, she could almost taste the tension.

"You think I'm yours now?" she asked, her voice daring.

He leaned down, his lips barely brushing hers as he spoke. "I think you've wanted this just as much as I have."

Before she could respond, his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her toward him. Their lips collided in a kiss so fierce, so hungry, it left her breathless.

For a moment, everything else faded. The war. The kingdom. The betrayal lurking in the shadows. It was just them—locked in a kiss that spoke more than words ever could.

She kissed him back, her hands sliding up his chest, pulling him closer. The pressure built between them, a magnetic force neither could resist.

When they broke apart, both were panting, their faces flushed. Xypheron's grip on her waist tightened as he whispered, "You belong to me now."

Vexaria's heart pounded, the words hitting her like a jolt of electricity. But she couldn't deny the desire flooding through her. She wanted him.

She wanted him so badly it scared her.

Without another word, Xypheron took her hand, leading her out of the war room and down the hall. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, a silent promise of what was to come.

When they reached his chambers, Xypheron wasted no time. He slammed the door behind them, his lips capturing hers again, more demanding this time. Vexaria's hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hardness of his body beneath the fabric of his tunic.

She felt dizzy with need, and when his hands slid under her clothes, she didn't stop him. There were no more barriers between them—not now.

With a swift motion, he lifted her, placing her on the bed with a surprising tenderness that took her by surprise. His eyes locked on hers, dark with desire.

"Tell me you want this," he demanded, his voice rough with barely contained control.

Vexaria swallowed hard, the words on the tip of her tongue. "I want this," she breathed.

And then, he was on her.

Everything else ceased to matter. All that existed was the fire between them