Chapter 23 – The Edge of Surrender

Sophia had spent years in control of her life, careful and calculated, never allowing herself to be ruled by emotions. Yet, in Lucian's presence, control felt like an illusion—one he was determined to shatter.

She sat by the window in the dimly lit chamber he had given her, staring at the moonlit landscape beyond the castle walls. The fae kingdom felt foreign, yet strangely familiar, like a dream she was only beginning to remember. Her fingers traced absent patterns on the glass, her thoughts swirling like a tempest.

Lucian.

He was undoing her, piece by piece.

She could still feel the lingering heat of his touch from their last encounter, the dark intensity in his gaze when he told her she wouldn't want to fight him forever. And the worst part? He was right.

A soft knock on the door sent a jolt through her.

Sophia turned, expecting one of the castle attendants. But when the door creaked open, revealing Lucian standing there in the flickering candlelight, her pulse kicked up violently.

She clenched her fists. "What do you want?"

Lucian leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable. "You."

Her breath caught in her throat. The way he said it, without hesitation, without doubt—like it was a fact as undeniable as the air she breathed.

"You need to stop this," she said, trying to sound firm. "I need space, Lucian."

He pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. "You don't want space."

Sophia's jaw clenched. "Don't tell me what I want."

Lucian's golden eyes darkened with amusement and something deeper. "Then tell me," he said smoothly, taking slow steps toward her. "Tell me you don't feel this. That you don't wake up thinking about me. That you don't dream about my touch."

Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

Damn him.

He was right.

And he knew it.

Lucian reached out, brushing his fingers along the side of her neck, trailing fire along her skin. Her breath hitched. "Your pulse is racing, little fae," he murmured.

She jerked away, stepping back until she was pressed against the wall. "I hate you," she bit out, hoping it would push him away.

Lucian merely smirked. "No, you don't."

She did. She had to. Because the alternative was too dangerous.

"Why do you keep doing this?" she whispered, frustration and something dangerously close to yearning creeping into her voice.

Lucian's smirk faded, replaced by something far more raw. "Because you're mine," he said simply. "And you know it."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver through her.

Sophia shook her head, trying to deny the warmth curling deep in her stomach. "I don't belong to anyone."

Lucian's expression darkened. "No. But you belong with me."

Her breath stilled.

His words hit her like a physical force, cutting through her walls, her resistance.

"Say it," he urged, stepping even closer, caging her in without touching her. "Say you don't feel this."

Sophia swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs. She wanted to say it, needed to say it.

But she couldn't.

Because it would be a lie.

Lucian must have seen the battle warring in her, because his gaze softened slightly. "I will never force you, Sophia," he murmured. "But I will make sure you understand just how inevitable this is."

A tense silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words, unfulfilled promises.

Then, just as suddenly as he had come, he stepped back.

Sophia exhaled shakily, the loss of his nearness leaving her oddly bereft.

Lucian studied her for a long moment, then tilted his head slightly. "Sweet dreams, little fae."

Then he was gone, leaving her standing there, breathless and shaken.

She should be relieved. She should be glad he left.

But as she stared at the empty space where he had stood, all she could think about was how much she already craved his return.