Power tussle

"That must have hurt." Zarathys' voice cut through her thoughts. Prudielle's unfocused gaze shifted toward him, confused.

"Huh?"

The King leaned forward, too close for comfort, making her stumble back. The sudden proximity left her breathless, and her mind screamed. What is he trying to do?

His closeness unsettled her more than she was willing to admit. She wasn't ready for these feelings to surface. Not now. It was like a loose thread on her dress.

Snip.

She cut it off immediately, replacing the emotions with ice.

"What are you trying to do!?" she demanded, her voice sharp, cold.

Zarathys hummed, amusement and intrigue flickering in his molten eyes. He had his answer now. He had been so focused on his earlier strike that he hadn't realized it sooner. Humans were supposed to writhe in agony when they woke up, but she was different.

Alena wasn't a high-ranked demon, so her strength was comparable to a human's, save for her use of power to make her movements more impactful.

Yet, her swing had lacked the precision of a skilled fighter. It had been weak, much like Prudielle herself.

"You're resistant to pain." Zarathys' face was so close that his sharp nose nearly brushed against hers. Prudielle recoiled slightly, scrunching her nose in distaste.

"Hey, walking hellfire," she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Being unable to come this close to anyone must've messed with your head. Haven't you heard the term 'personal space'?"

The air around him shifted in an instant, and Prudielle could taste the bitterness that clung to the space between them. Zarathys took a step back, his surprising warmth retreating with him.

But his ember eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure, that expression flickering just as quickly as it had arrived.

The warmth in the air steadied, like a swing losing its momentum, the tension dissipating into nothingness.

Still, Zarathys' gaze never wavered from her. Prudielle almost jolted under the intensity of it.

"You're in my space." His voice was low, measured, and dangerous.

Prudielle arched an eyebrow, unfazed. "You kidnapped me."

Her words were blunt, a deadpan statement that matched her steely gaze. They locked eyes, no words needed, as an unspoken battle of wills played out between them.

Her lashes twitched as she stared into the depths of his eyes. Crimson coals that burned in eternal darkness.

Beautiful, yet deadly. Like a rose with thorns.

"The best decision I've ever made." Zarathys' words reached her ears, sending a jolt through Prudielle that made her choke on her own saliva. She stared at him, dumbfounded.

Forget that. He didn't mean it in the wild way she'd imagined. Or did he? No, Prudielle! She scolded herself, fighting back the irrational thoughts. Dangerous game, huh? Wasn't she the one who said that?

But then... Why was her mind wandering to strange places?

A mental shake brought clarity, and she smirked. Sharp, fierce, but hiding something deeper.

The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy, the unspoken words hanging like a fragile thread. Neither of them looked away, locked in an unyielding stare, until a voice broke the heavy air above their heads.

"Your Majesty, the Lord of Pierce Metropolis seeks your presence."

Zarathys broke his gaze from her, rising from the bed with fluid grace. Prudielle used this chance to make faces at him, wagging her clenched fist in the air.

But then, she froze.

Zarathys stood by the exit, his back to her, but he glanced over his shoulder. His molten ember eyes pierced her skin with a hollow intensity, the unspoken warning in them colder than the chill now running through her veins.

Like a thief caught, Prudielle lowered her hand, her jaw tight. She couldn't meet his gaze again. Instead, her eyes darted away, her entire form trembling under the weight of his silent command.

His distant footfalls and the sharp slam of the door marked his departure. The heavy silence left in his wake caused Prudielle's chest to sag, a breath escaping her that she hadn't realized she was holding.

Her eyes dropped to the thick, dark sheets that clung to her skin, and in a fit of frustration, she snatched them off, tossing them aside. Without hesitation, she leaped from the bed, dashing toward the window.

****

His long, elegant fingers drummed impatiently against the surface of the desk as his eyes skimmed over the bookshelves behind him, each filled with the kingdom's histories and records.

The soft click of a lock followed by a silent shriek heralded the arrival of the man he'd been waiting for. Lord Aries, ever the dutiful servant, rose to his feet, lowering his head in deference.

"Your Majesty," he greeted, his voice careful but respectful.

Zarathys regarded him lazily, settling into his seat at the far edge of the study. A bored, almost indifferent expression sat on his face as he cradled his head in his hand, as if he were trying to will the meeting to be over before it even began.

"And to whom do I owe the pleasure of entertaining one of the revered Archs?" Zarathys asked with a casual lilt in his voice, his words calculated yet dripping with an underlying power.

Despite the apparent indifference, there was no mistaking the authority behind his tone, a subtle but deliberate attempt to remind Lord Aries of his own supremacy, pushing the boundaries of their exchange with that single line.

"We both know the time has come for you to honor the terms of our agreement, Your Majesty," Aries said, a practiced smile dancing across his lips.

His words hung in the air, the silence that followed thick with expectation.

Zarathys remained unmoved, his gaze cool and calculating. There was no immediate reply, but beneath his composed exterior, a simmering rage brewed.

The kind that could burn through anyone who dared meet his eyes for too long.

"Very well," he said after a long pause, the words heavy with unspoken intent. "Though there's a slight adjustment I'd like to make."

Aries' expression remained unfazed, his voice smooth and measured.

"His Majesty is well aware of how he has secured his position. I'm sure he wouldn't make the wrong decision, knowing how... power-hungry some demons can be."

The words were polite, but the underlying threat lingered, subtle yet unmistakable.

Zarathys knew exactly what he meant. The unspoken alliance between them had always been fraught with tension, and this was no exception.

It irked him more than he cared to admit, but he was still better off with Aries as an ally than an enemy. That much was certain.

Her presence loomed in his mind, cutting through his thoughts like a cold blade—her crimson curls swirling in the wind like a bloody flag.

He suppressed the involuntary flinch that shot through him, the vein in his temple pulsing with barely contained fury. He would never admit to feeling this way about her. Never.

"Yes, he knows," Zarathys replied, his tone smoother now, but with a bite that was hard to ignore. "And he is very glad to have your unwavering support, despite... the trials."

"With that said," Aries began, his tone dripping with carefully veiled amusement, "I hope His Majesty won't mind the next words that fall from my lips."

Zarathys leaned forward with a predatory grace that spoke of control and a patience honed over centuries. His gloved fingers laced together in a casual yet deliberate gesture, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he waited.

"Do tell. I'm all ears," Zarathys replied, his voice a soft invitation with an undercurrent of something far more dangerous.

"The Queen has decided to move into your chambers. As we speak, preparations are already underway." Aries' voice dropped to a near-whisper, his smile turning more pronounced, the corners of his eyes crinkling with malice.

Zarathys' lips curved upward in a barely-there smile, amusement flickering in his molten gaze at the mention of the "Queen." It was a title he'd yet bestow on the woman, a part of the deal he had no interest in rushing. But his calm facade didn't falter.

That is, until Aries delivered the final blow.

"She orchestrated this," Aries continued, his voice thick with mock sweetness.

"How thoughtful of her. You're truly fortunate to have a demoness like her thinking ahead. The moment you graced the study, she had already made herself at home in your chambers."