Chapter 81: Bound by Fire and Ice

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Verbena stormed down the corridor, her mind spinning, her heart a battlefield of conflicting emotions. The taste of Theodore's kiss still lingered on her lips, and no matter how much she tried to push it away, it clung to her like a curse.

How dare he?

She wasn't some pawn he could move whenever he pleased. If he truly wanted her, he needed to prove it, not just steal moments of passion only to discard her when it suited him.

As she reached the grand hall, a familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Duchess Verbena," a smooth, velvety voice called from behind.

She turned to see Duke Sinclair approaching, his signature smirk in place. "I must say, you make quite the spectacle."

She arched a brow. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"A bit of both," he admitted, stepping closer. "The way you handle your husband… it's fascinating to watch."

Verbena scoffed. "Watch all you want. It's not as if I'm doing it for entertainment."

"Perhaps not," Sinclair mused, "but I can't help but wonder… do you truly believe he is capable of loving you?"

Something in her chest tightened. "That's none of your concern."

"But it should be," he said smoothly. "Because if you ever decide he isn't worth your time, you'll need an ally. Someone who actually sees your worth."

His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, his touch light but deliberate.

Verbena didn't flinch, nor did she step back. Instead, she met his gaze head-on, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Are you offering yourself as that ally, Duke Sinclair?"

His smirk widened. "Perhaps."

Before she could respond, a shadow loomed behind her.

"Remove your hand," Theodore's voice was dark, lethal.

Sinclair barely spared him a glance. "Possessive, aren't we?"

Theodore grabbed Verbena's wrist, pulling her toward him. His grip wasn't painful, but it was firm, unyielding. "You have no business touching my wife."

Sinclair chuckled, stepping back. "Ah, so now she's your wife. Interesting how quickly your claim changes when another man shows interest."

Verbena felt Theodore's grip tighten ever so slightly.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Sinclair," Theodore warned.

"And you, my dear Duke, are playing a losing one," Sinclair countered.

With that, he gave Verbena a knowing glance before walking away, leaving behind a tension so thick it was suffocating.

Theodore turned to her, his golden eyes burning with barely restrained fury. "What the hell were you doing with him?"

She yanked her wrist free. "Having a conversation. Or am I not allowed to speak to other men now?"

His jaw clenched. "Not when they touch you like that."

She laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Oh, so now you care? Where was this concern when you ignored me in front of everyone? When you let them think I was nothing more than a convenient pawn in your political game?"

Theodore exhaled sharply, his hand running through his hair in frustration. "It's complicated."

"No, Theodore," she said, stepping closer, her voice quiet but filled with conviction. "It's only complicated because you make it that way."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, as if reaching a breaking point, Theodore moved—swiftly, decisively.

Before she could react, she was pressed against the cold marble wall, his body caging hers in.

"Do you really think I don't care?" His voice was low, rough, filled with something dark and desperate. "Do you think I can just watch you with another man and feel nothing?"

Her breath hitched.

"Then why—"

"Because I'm afraid," he admitted, his forehead resting against hers. "Afraid that if I let myself want you, truly want you, I won't be able to stop."

Her heart pounded. "Then stop pushing me away."

A pause. A battle waged in his eyes.

Then, finally, his lips crashed into hers.

This kiss wasn't like the last. It wasn't fueled by anger or jealousy.

It was desperation.

It was a silent plea.

And for the first time, Verbena wasn't sure if she wanted to fight it.

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