Ariaxa’s knees touched the cold marble before her mind fully understood Kaedan’s command.
The floor’s chill climbed up her legs like a creeping shadow, settling into her bones while the vast room inhaled around her. Velvet cushions rustled as the other harem members drifted into their places, forming a half-circle around the Emperor like living ornaments arranged at his whim.
The lamps burned low, casting slow waves of red light over his throne-like bed. Every gaze in the chamber—hungry, jealous, or curious—burned against Ariaxa’s skin.
Kaedan sat back with deliberate laziness, his cloak pooling like spilled shadow behind him. His boots rested inches from her knees. She could feel the heat of his body without him needing to touch her. The collar around her throat pulsed faintly, as if it knew it now belonged to the hand that forged it.
Kaedan’s voice broke the silence with smooth precision.
“Strip.”
Ariaxa’s fingers twitched. Her breath caught in her chest. She did not move fast enough.
The collar reacted to her hesitation before she could even form a thought. A surge of magic snapped down her spine—sharp, biting, electric—and she jerked in place, her palms slapping the floor as pain flared through every nerve.
Kaedan watched her reaction with calm boredom, as though evaluating how a new instrument responded to pressure.
“Strip,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time, the softness far more dangerous.
Ariaxa forced her hands upward. The strings of the gold-mesh garment trembled as she pulled them loose. The fabric slid down slowly, clinging to her skin before surrendering and pooling around her knees.
Every breath she took felt exposed. Every inch of her skin felt watched. The other harem members inhaled as one, drinking in her humiliation.
Kaedan leaned forward slightly, studying her without blinking.
“Hold still.”
His fingers—cold, steady, impersonal—closed around her chin first, turning her head to the side as though examining a new acquisition. His thumb brushed over the scorched skin beneath the collar. He tilted her head back, his face unreadable while he traced the line of her throat.
“Too thin,” he murmured, as if commenting on a piece of armor. “And the burn is still fresh.”
He let go and moved to her wrists, lifting each as though checking for fractures. His hands were methodical, never lingering longer than necessary. When he touched her hips, it was with the same clinical detachment, rotating her slightly so he could see the marks the guards had left.
Ariaxa felt like cold metal being weighed for value.
Kaedan stepped back at last, rubbing his thumb once along his lower lip. His eyes narrowed—not with desire, but with consideration.
“No,” he said quietly. “Not tonight.”
Before Ariaxa could process the meaning, he snapped his fingers.
“Seren.”
The red-haired slave moved instantly. She approached with the graceful confidence of someone who knew she was desired, her body draped in sheer crimson silk that barely clung to her curves. She shot Ariaxa a lingering look, a smile sharp enough to cut.
Seren’s voice dripped with amusement.
“Shall I show her how a real favorite serves you, my Emperor?”
Kaedan did not look at Seren.
“Begin.”
Seren climbed into his lap with practiced ease, sliding one thigh over his legs, her arms wrapping around his shoulders in fluid motion.
Ariaxa could hear the rustle of silk as Seren pressed her body fully against him. Seren leaned into his throat, letting her lips hover just above his skin before dragging them lower in a slow, calculated path.
Ariaxa’s stomach tightened painfully. But she held Kaedan’s gaze. She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to.
Seren noticed.
“Poor little solar princess,” Seren whispered loudly enough for Ariaxa to hear. “This is what obedience looks like. You should take notes while your betters work.”
Kaedan still did not look at Seren. He held Ariaxa’s gaze with unbroken intensity, his eyes dark and bottomless. Every movement Seren made—every kiss, every brush of her thighs, every seductive gasp—was performed against Kaedan’s body, but meant for Ariaxa to witness.
Seren ran her fingers down Kaedan’s chest, arching her back to press more fully against him.
“Do you see?” she murmured, letting her breath ghost over his ear. “He prefers the willing.”
Ariaxa felt heat crawl up her neck, humiliation burning hotter than the rune-collar. She forced herself not to flinch, her nails pressing crescents into her palms as Seren’s moans filled the chamber.
Kaedan’s expression never changed. He let Seren’s motions continue, but his attention remained fixed entirely on Ariaxa, watching her with a focus that felt like a thumb pressing into a bruise.
Seren brushed her mouth along Kaedan’s jaw.
“Let me finish it for you, my Emperor,” she whispered greedily. “Allow me to give you what she cannot.”
Kaedan’s fingers tightened suddenly against Seren’s waist. Not in pleasure. In irritation.
“Enough.”
Seren froze.
“But—”
“I said enough.”
He pushed her off him with a single decisive motion. Seren stumbled back, her lips parted in disbelief as she stared between Kaedan and Ariaxa. The other harem members whispered behind their hands, their eyes sharp with interest.
Kaedan stood, adjusting his cloak with a movement that sent shadows trailing behind him like smoke. He walked toward Ariaxa with measured steps that made the floor vibrate faintly beneath her knees.
“You are not ready to be touched,” Kaedan said as he circled her, each word landing with the weight of a rule carved into stone. “Not by me. Not by anyone.”
Ariaxa kept her chin low. Her heart pounded so fast she thought the collar might pulse with it.
Kaedan stopped directly in front of her.
“You will learn,” he said softly.
The room went silent. Even the candles seemed to hold their breath. Kaedan crouched down slowly, every movement deliberate until his face was level with hers. His fingers slid under her jaw, lifting her chin with cold authority until she had no choice but to meet his eyes.
His voice dropped to a whisper that brushed against her lips like a blade gliding over skin.
“But tomorrow,” Kaedan murmured, letting the promise settle into her bones, “you will scream.”