The New Name

Luko was devastated.

"You're leaving?"

Malec barely looked at him as he packed.

"Yes."

Luko's fists clenched.

"Take me with you," he demanded.

Malec paused.

Then, with a sigh, he turned.

"Why?"

Luko's golden eyes flickered.

"Because I need to keep studying her," he said honestly. "And because she needs someone who speaks her tongue."

Malec considered it.

Then, after a long silence, he gave a short nod.

"Fine."

Luko let out a breath of relief.

Because truthfully—

He didn't just want to study her.

He wanted to protect her.

Because she was getting further and further away from the portal.

And soon—

She might never get home.

The journey north had been long, brutal, and cold.

Melodie had never felt such bitter winds, cutting through her thin layers like knives.

Malec had barely spoken to her during the journey.

He had been calmer, more composed, more distant.

But she knew better.

This wasn't detachment.

This was control.

He had her exactly where he wanted her.

And he was confident now—arrogant, even—that she would never escape him again.

The Northern lands were a stark contrast to the warmth of the capital.

Where the palace had been gilded in luxury, full of whispers and games, this place was quiet, raw, untamed.

The castle itself stood on a hill, towering above a vast frozen pine forest.

The air was crisp, sharp, filled with the scent of snow and cedar.

The small city nearby—the only civilization for miles—was nothing more than a stronghold for warriors and traders.

Malec had taken her far.

Further than she ever wanted to be.

And he knew it.

Melodie knew she had to adjust.

Fighting him physically had failed.

Running had failed.

So, she had to change the rules.

She had seen the way his eyes lingered on her when he thought she wouldn't notice.

The way his body tensed when she got too close.

The way his breath hitched when she leaned in, pretending to reach for something.

She could use this.

If she could make him want her, she could persuade him to take her back.

She just needed to play the part.

"Sit up straight," Luko muttered, adjusting the position of the writing tablet in front of her.

Melodie rolled her eyes but did as he asked, her fingers tightening around the inked quill.

"I don't see why I have to learn this stupid language," she muttered in English.

Luko sighed, rubbing his temples.

_"Because Malec said so. And because it would help you."

Melodie scoffed.

"Help me how? So I can hear all the insults they throw at me?"

"So you can fight back," Luko countered.

Melodie paused.

Okay. That was a fair point.

She glanced at the scribbled symbols on the tablet, her frustration growing.

"Your people don't make this easy, you know," she grumbled, trying to copy the letters.

"Oh, trust me, I know," Luko smirked, flipping a page in his book.

Melodie sighed, glancing toward the window.

The snow was still falling outside, thick and endless.

She felt so far away.

She clenched her jaw.

"Why did he take me from the capital?"

Luko froze mid-turn of a page.

He didn't look at her right away, instead pretending to be interested in an ink stain on the table.

"Luko."

Her voice was firm, steady.

Not desperate.

Not pleading.

Just demanding an answer.

The kind that told him she wouldn't let it go.

Luko finally sighed, setting the book down.

"He wanted to get you away from the nobles."

Melodie's brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"Because they wanted to buy you."

Melodie narrowed her eyes.

"I could've handled myself."

Luko let out a short, humorless laugh.

"Oh, I have no doubt. But Malec wasn't worried about you handling yourself. He was worried about them handling you."

Melodie's stomach turned slightly.

She remembered the way the nobles had bid on her like livestock, the way Surin had touched her arm like she was a prized thing.

It had been humiliating.

But why had Malec cared?

She folded her arms.

"What does he want with me?"

Luko hesitated again.

Then, carefully, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I don't think he knows," he admitted.

Melodie frowned.

"That makes no sense. He dragged me all the way up here to his ice palace and doesn't know why?"

Luko gave her a small smirk.

"That's what's funny about Malec. He doesn't always need a reason. He just… does what he wants."

Melodie snorted.

"Great. So I'm stuck with an overgrown child who acts on impulse. Lovely."

Luko chuckled, but his golden eyes were thoughtful.

Then, suddenly, he said,

"Has he ever lost?"

Melodie blinked.

"What?"

Luko leaned back, crossing his arms.

"Malec. Have you ever seen him fail at anything?"

Melodie paused.

She thought back to every time she had seen him fight, command, track her down, anticipate her moves.

Every time he had pursued a goal—he had achieved it.

Her stomach tightened.

No.

She hadn't.

Luko took her silence as confirmation.

"Malec has this… innate ability," he continued. "Ever since we were young, he could do the impossible. The undoable. No matter what the task was, if Malec decided he wanted it, it would happen."

His expression turned slightly grim.

"That kind of ability comes with some… personality quirks."

Melodie raised an eyebrow.

"Like what?"

Luko exhaled, drumming his fingers on the table.

"Obsession."

The room felt colder.

Melodie sat up straighter.

"Obsession?" she repeated slowly.

Luko nodded.

"When Malec sets his sights on something, he does not stop until it is his."

Her heart pounded.

"Has he ever obsessed over a woman before?"

Luko shook his head.

"No. That's what makes this different. I have never seen him fixate on a female like this. Especially not a Canariae."

Melodie's breath caught.

"Why?"

Luko studied her.

"I think it's because you challenge him."

Melodie frowned.

"What?"

"You don't submit," Luko said simply. "He doesn't know what to do with you. He has never had to chase something like this before. And Malec…" he hesitated, then smirked slightly. "He loves a challenge."

Melodie's mind raced.

So that was it?

He wasn't keeping her because he wanted to own her.

He was keeping her because she was difficult.

Because she wasn't a docile creature like the other Canariae.

Because she fought.

And Malec—

Liked the fight.

Melodie gritted her teeth.

Fine.

If that was what kept him interested…

Then maybe she could use it.

She tapped her fingers against the wooden table, thinking.

"What if I stop being a challenge?" she mused.

Luko raised an eyebrow.

"Then he'd lose interest."

Melodie's lips curled slightly.

"But… what if I challenged him in a different way?"

Luko frowned.

"What are you—"

Then his eyes widened slightly.

"Oh."

Melodie leaned back, crossing her arms.

"He's attracted to me. Even if he won't admit it."

Luko sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Yes. And that is exactly why you should not play with fire."

Melodie smirked.

"But Luko," she said sweetly, "I love fire."

Luko groaned.

"Do not be reckless."

Melodie stood, stretching.

"Time is running out," she muttered. "I need to get back to the capital. And if the only way to do that is to make Malec want me enough to take me back himself…"

She turned to Luko, her dark eyes gleaming.

"Then I'll do what I must."

Luko sighed heavily.

"Just… be careful."

Melodie only smirked.

"Oh, I will be. But Malec?…"

Her smirk widened.

"He doesn't stand a chance."

Malec stood at the center of the great hall, his posture relaxed yet commanding, as the gathered castle staff, guards, and servants watched in silence.

Melodie was seated on a wooden bench, arms crossed, her expression set in stone as she glared at him.

Luko stood beside her, shifting uncomfortably, already sensing this was going to go poorly.

Malec's tan eyes locked onto her, unyielding and firm.

Then, he spoke.

"Zer miruz germa ti Melodie."

Luko tensed before reluctantly translating.

"He says… you are no longer Melodie."

Melodie's jaw clenched.

"Excuse me?"

Luko sighed and translated her words to Malec.

Malec's expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his gaze at her obvious resistance.

"Sem kuya veer zer," Malec continued, his voice steady, authoritative.

Luko relayed the message, his own irritation seeping into the words.

"He says you need a 'proper' name. One that reflects your place here."

Melodie stood up sharply, hands clenched into fists.

"My place? And what place is that, exactly?!"

Luko hesitated, but translated.

Malec took a slow step forward, towering over her, his broad shoulders casting a shadow in the firelight.

"Ser tuga em," Malec said smoothly.

"Ser garu gi nautk."

Luko practically shouted the translation, his frustration spilling out.

"He says you belong to him now!"

The watching castle staff murmured softly, some amused, others curious.

Melodie felt something inside her snap.

Her lips curled back in a snarl.

"I belong to no one!" she spat.

Luko, despite himself, translated the words with just as much venom.

Malec remained impassive, his tan eyes flickering with a glint of something unreadable.

He spoke again, his voice calm, almost amused.

"You will learn, little Canariae."

Luko translated, scowling.

Melodie let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"Oh, I'll learn, alright. I'll learn exactly how to suffocate you in your sleep!"

Luko snorted, then coughed.

Malec raised an eyebrow.

Luko waved a hand, struggling to compose himself.

"She… she says…" he barely held back a chuckle, "she will suffocate you in your sleep."

A stunned silence filled the hall.

Then—

Luko broke into uncontrollable laughter.

Malec's expression twitched.

The staff and guards hesitated, not sure if they should laugh along, or fear for their lives.

Luko tried to stop, gasping for breath.

"I—I'm sorry, Malec, I—" he wiped his eyes. "I just—suffocate—" he burst into laughter again.

Malec's lips pressed into a thin line.

Then, in one swift motion, he closed the distance between himself and Melodie.

Her dark eyes widened in sudden alarm.

Before she could react, Malec's strong hands gripped her waist and yanked her forward, crushing her against his chest.

And then—

He kissed her.

Hard.

Right there, in front of everyone.

Melodie's entire body went rigid.

The heat of his mouth scorched her lips, possessive, claiming.

A statement.

A message.

You are mine.

The crowd gasped softly, murmurs spreading through the room like wildfire.

Melodie's brain finally caught up.

And she fought.

Hard.

Her hands shoved against his chest, her body twisting in protest.

But Malec was stronger.

His grip was unyielding, his hold firm, dominant.

Only when he was satisfied—when he was sure every single person in the room understood exactly who she belonged to—

Did he release her.

Melodie staggered back, panting, her face flushed with rage.

Malec wiped his thumb over his lower lip, looking annoyingly smug.

A pure, arrogant male.

His tan eyes gleamed with satisfaction at her embarrassment.

"Now, that is proper obedience," he murmured.

Luko, still catching his breath, grimaced as he translated.

Melodie's fists shook.

Then, without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her heated glare burning into his skin.

Malec watched her leave, his smirk slowly fading.

Because despite his victory—

His fingers twitched.

His skin burned.

And his mind—his traitorous, foolish mind—

Kept replaying the feeling of her lips beneath his.

How soft her hair had been in his hands.

How perfectly she had fit against him as she struggled.

He let out a sharp sigh, rubbing his forehead.

Damn it.

He turned abruptly, heading toward his office.

There was work to be done.

And he needed the distraction.

The early morning air burned against Malec's lungs as he swung his sword in sharp, fluid motions, his muscles moving with trained precision.

The training yard echoed with the sounds of steel, boots crunching against the frozen ground as his warriors sparred in fierce, disciplined formations.

It was refreshing—to be out here instead of drowning in paperwork and intrusive thoughts.

But even as he fought, his mind wandered.

To her.

Melodie.

His jaw clenched as he tried to force the memory of their last encounter from his mind.

The way she trembled against him when he kissed her.

The way her body had pressed so perfectly against his.

The way her fury burned hotter than the fire in the hearth.

Damn her.

His focus snapped back as a sword swung toward his side.

Without missing a beat, he dodged, twisting his blade in a quick, brutal arc—sending his opponent stumbling back into the dirt.

"Too slow," he muttered, sheathing his weapon.

The warriors around him stepped back, bowing their heads as Luko approached.

"You were serious?"

Luko's golden eyes flickered with both curiosity and mild concern as he crossed his arms.

Malec grabbed a towel, wiping sweat from his brow.

"About what?"

"About keeping her."

Malec stilled just slightly.

Then, without hesitation—

"Yes."

Luko sighed.

"Why, Malec?"

Malec tossed the towel aside, rolling his shoulders.

"She is mine. That is reason enough."

Luko let out a frustrated exhale.

"That's not a reason, that's an excuse."

Malec shot him a warning glare, but Luko continued anyway.

"You know she's different," Luko pressed. "She's not like the other Canariae. She's not some fragile pet or soft servant. She's a soldier, like you."

Malec scoffed.

"A soldier? Her?"

But even as he dismissed it, his mind flickered to the memory of her fighting.

Her movements had been quick, efficient—every motion precise and purposeful.

It wasn't just wild resistance.

It was trained combat.

His expression darkened.

"Perhaps," he admitted grudgingly.

Luko raised an eyebrow.

"You could use her."

Malec's tan eyes narrowed.

"Use her how?"

Luko smirked.

"Test her. See what she's capable of."

A slow, amused glint flickered in Malec's gaze.

"You think she can fight?"

"I think she can surprise you."

Malec considered this.

Then, with a short nod, he turned to one of his guards.

"Bring her to the training yard."

The guard bowed swiftly before leaving.

Malec sheathed his sword, rolling his shoulders.

"Let's see what this 'soldier' of yours is made of."

Fifteen minutes later, the guards returned—empty-handed.

Malec's brow furrowed.

"Where is she?"

The guards hesitated.

Then—

"She's not in her chambers, sir. We searched the hallways, the courtyard—she's nowhere in sight."

A slow, sharp wave of irritation burned through Malec's chest.

"Find her," he ordered.

But even as his men scattered to search, he already knew.

She was hiding.

Again.

His jaw ticked as he marched back inside the castle, his footsteps heavy against the stone floors.

He was not about to let her roam freely like some wild, disobedient thing.