POV Dominic
The corridor outside Eva's chambers is silent at midnight, but my wolf refuses to settle.
I've been pacing this stretch of hallway for hours, unable to sleep, unable to quiet the restless energy thrumming beneath my skin.
Ever since I learned she's carrying another man's child, something in me has been slowly unraveling.
I should feel nothing but duty. She's my charge. My princess. My responsibility to protect.
But duty has never described what I feel for Eva.
The crash of shattering glass cuts through the silence like a scream.
I don't knock. Don't hesitate. My hand finds the weapon at my hip as I burst through her door, ready for intruders, for threats, for anything except what I actually find.
Eva stands in the center of her room, surrounded by glittering shards. The mirror above her vanity lies in pieces across the floor, and her hand is bleeding—crimson drops falling onto white marble.
She's shaking violently, tears streaming down her face, weeks of pressure finally erupting into destruction.
"Eva." I start toward her.
She rounds on me like a wounded animal. "Get out."
"Your hand is bleeding. Let me…"
"I said get out!" Her voice cracks, hysteria bleeding through. "I don't need you hovering. I don't need anyone hovering. I just need everyone to stop looking at me like I'm about to shatter!"
"You just destroyed a mirror with your bare hands." I keep my voice steady, moving closer despite her protests. "I'd say shattering is a reasonable concern."
"Don't." She backs away, glass crunching under her bare feet. "Don't be calm and reasonable and professional while my entire life falls apart."
"What do you want me to do?" Frustration bleeds into my tone. "Tell me what you need, Eva."
"I need…" Her voice breaks. "I need my father to stop treating me like a broodmare. I need to stop being terrified every second. I need to stop performing for princes who don't see me as anything but a prize to be won."
The words pour out like poison from a wound, unstoppable. She presses her hands to her face, smearing blood across her cheeks.
"I'm drowning, Nic. I'm drowning and no one sees it."
"I see it." The words tear from my throat.
"Then why do you keep your distance?" She drops her hands, green eyes blazing through tears. "Why do you treat me like I'm made of glass?"
"Because you're a princess." My control frays at the edges. "Because I'm staff. Because your father would have me executed if I ever…"
"If you ever what?" She steps closer, glass be damned, blood trailing behind her. "Say it. For once in your life, say what you actually feel instead of hiding behind duty."
"Eva…"
"You've watched me with other men for weeks. Watched me dance with them, laugh with them, disappear into their rooms." Her voice turns sharp, accusing. "Does it bother you?"
"Of course it bothers me." The words rip free before I can stop them. "You think I don't lie awake every night imagining their hands on you? Imagining you gasping their names while I patrol the corridors like some faithful dog?"
"Then why—"
"Because I have no right!" My voice rises, control shattering. "I have no claim to you, no status, nothing to offer except a bodyguard's loyalty. Even my love for you is not enough."
The confession hangs between us, devastating in its honesty.
Eva stares at me, tears still streaming, chest heaving. "Say that again."
"I love you." The words feel like bleeding. "I've loved you my entire life. And watching you with them is destroying me, Eva. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
She crosses the remaining distance between us.
And then she's kissing me.
Desperate. Hungry. Her bloodied hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me down to her mouth with a need that mirrors my own. I freeze for one heartbeat, shock, disbelief, the last gasp of duty, and then something in me snaps.
I kiss her back like I'm dying.
My hands cup her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, and she moans against my mouth. Years of suppressed longing pour through me, obliterating every barrier I've ever built.
She tastes like everything I've wanted since before I understood what wanting meant.
"Nic…" She gasps as my mouth moves to her throat.
I lift her off the glass-covered floor, carrying her away from the destruction. Her legs wrap around my waist, her fingers tearing at my shirt.
We crash against the wall, and I pin her there with my hips, grinding against her heat through layers of fabric.
My voice is wrecked. "Tell me this is wrong and we can't…"
"Don't you dare stop." She yanks my shirt over my head.
The last thread of restraint dissolves.
I carry her to the bed, laying her down on silk sheets, and tear her nightgown down the center. She's bare beneath it—nothing but skin and curves and the body I've imagined for years.
I lower myself over her, mouth finding the hollow of her throat. "You've always been so fucking beautiful."
Eva arches beneath me as I worship downward—kissing her collarbone, her breasts. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails scoring my skin with delicious pain.
"More," she begs. "I need more."
My mouth trails down her stomach, across her hips, settling between her thighs. When my tongue finds her center, she cries out so loudly I'm certain the guards down the corridor can hear.
I don't care. Let them hear. Let everyone know she's mine.
I devour her like a starving man—licking, sucking, driving her toward the edge with single-minded focus. When I slide two fingers inside her, curling them against the spot that makes her scream, she shatters within seconds.
"Inside me." She's pulling at my shoulders before the aftershocks fade. "Now, Nic. I need you inside me now."
I shed my remaining clothes with shaking hands. When I finally position myself at her entrance, I pause—one last moment of sanity.
"Eva." Her name is a prayer on my lips. "If we do this…"
"There's no going back." She cups my face in her bloodied hands. "I know. I don't care. I choose you."
I push inside her, and the world ends.
She's tight and hot and perfect, clenching around me like she was made for this—made for us. I hold still for an agonizing moment, letting her adjust, letting myself memorize the feeling of finally being where I belong.
Then I move.
The rhythm builds from tender to desperate, years of longing compressed into every thrust. Eva matches me perfectly, hips rising to meet mine, fingernails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood.
I bury my face in her throat, breathing her scent, losing myself in the sounds she makes.
"Harder." She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper. "I won't break."
I give her what she asks for. Drive into her with the force of everything I've suppressed, claiming her body the way I've always wanted to claim her heart. The bed slams against the wall. Her screams echo off the ceiling.
When she comes apart beneath me, my name torn from her throat like a confession, I follow moments later.
Afterward, we lie breathless in the wreckage of her bed. Sheets tangled. Pillows scattered. Blood smeared across the silk from her injured hand, now wrapped in a strip torn from my ruined shirt.
Eva curls against my chest, her breathing slowly evening out, and I hold her like I'll never let go.
The reality of what we've done settles over us both.
She presses a kiss over my heart.
"There's no going back now," she whispers.
"No." I tighten my arms around her. "There isn't."
And for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid of what that means.