Chapter 374: A Night Without Thrones

Classic Blackwood

Her lips were warm against mine—soft, unhurried, yet undeniably real. No politics. No power plays. Just the quiet pull between us.

I deepened the kiss, my hand trailing down her waist, feeling the silk of her robe beneath my fingers. Amal responded without hesitation, her arms looping around my neck, pulling me closer. It wasn't desperate or rushed—it was deliberate. As if she was meeting me halfway, choosing this moment just as much as I was.

She tasted of honey and something else—something unfamiliar but intoxicating.

I smirked against her lips. "So much for a truce."

She exhaled a quiet laugh. "We can redefine the terms."

My fingers found the knot at her waist, tugging at the tie just enough to loosen it. "Careful, Princess," I murmured. "I might start thinking you actually want me."

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable before she reached up, brushing her thumb across my lower lip. "And what if I do?"

Damn.

I studied her, searching for hesitation. But there was none.

No fear. No uncertainty. Just her.

For the first time since this marriage had been arranged, I saw something past the royal titles and expectations. Something past the game. She wasn't pretending.

And neither was I.

I lifted her effortlessly, laying her onto the bed, the silk of her robe slipping open just enough to reveal the curve of her collarbone. She didn't flinch, didn't shy away—she only watched me, waiting.

Slowly, I traced my fingers down her arm, feeling the steady rhythm of her pulse beneath my touch. "Last chance to walk away," I murmured.

She met my gaze, unwavering. "I'm not going anywhere."

Neither was I.