Seren lay crumpled on the floor, gasping like a wounded animal, blood streaking her lips. The guards moved in immediately, armor clanking, faces pale from watching their Emperor lose control.
Kaedan didn’t look at them.
His eyes were locked on Ariaxa—on the blood on her side.
His voice was a razor dragged slowly across stone.
“Take her,” he ordered. “To the lowest dungeon. She dies at dawn.”
Seren flinched, wheezing. “Coward,” she spat wetly. “Let your slave speak for you, Kaedan. That’s all you are now.”
Kaedan took a step toward her, and the entire room recoiled.
Ariaxa jumped forward. “Wait.”
His head whipped toward her.
Ariaxa froze under that stare—feral, shaking, too close to losing himself.
“You will not interfere,” he growled. “Not now.”
“She attacked you,” Ariaxa said breathlessly. Her fingers slipped on the wound at her waist, warm blood trickling. “But killing her won’t end this.”
“It ends her,” Kaedan said. “That is enough.”
“No,” Ariaxa said.
The single word rang through the chamber.
The guards stilled.
Seren’s laugh cracked like glass. “Look how she commands you.”
Kaedan lunged—but Ariaxa stepped in front of him, palm pressed to his chest.
Her breath hitched. “Stop. Killing her will only make the chaos worse. The court is already splitting. The rebels think they can use her; the nobles think she’s a martyr. You execute her now and every faction on the brink becomes your enemy.”
Kaedan’s hands dropped to his sides like he didn’t trust himself to touch her.
“Ariaxa,” he said, voice low and shaking, “you are bleeding.”
“That is not the point—”
“It is the only point!” he roared.
His shout echoed off the walls, vibrating through the floor.
Ariaxa flinched, but she didn’t step back.
He took one step closer, chest brushing hers, voice a gravelly snarl.
“She cut you. She straddled you with a blade to your throat. She meant to slit you open. I walked into the room and found you bleeding at her feet. And you expect me to spare her?”
“Yes,” Ariaxa whispered.
Kaedan stared at her like she had spoken in another language entirely.
Seren’s coughs rattled behind them, but neither turned.
“You want to interrogate her,” Kaedan said, each syllable bitten off. “That is why you defend her.”
“It’s the only logical choice,” Ariaxa said. “Seren knows the rebels. She knows the assassination marks. She knows who paid for my death sigil. We need answers—”
“I don’t care about answers,” Kaedan snapped. “I care about the fact that you’re losing blood.”
“That won’t kill me.”
“It nearly did.”
His voice cracked, raw and sharp.
Ariaxa sucked in a soft breath. “Kaedan—”
“No.” His hand slammed into the wall beside her head. “You don’t get to do that.”
Her heart pounded. “Do what?”
He pressed closer, towering over her, breath hot against her cheek.
“You don’t get to risk yourself,” he growled, “and then stop me from killing the one who tried to take you. You don’t get to bleed and then tell me to think logically. You don’t get to—”
He cut himself off with a sound that was almost a groan.
Ariaxa swallowed. “Kaedan… look at me.”
He did.
And the devastation in his eyes almost broke her.
“You’re trembling,” she whispered.
He laughed—quiet, dangerous. “I nearly killed Seren with my bare hands. I would have. You said one word and I stopped.” His forehead leaned toward hers, barely touching, breath ragged. “Do you understand how close I am to breaking?”
Ariaxa’s fingers pressed harder to her wound. “I need you to listen—”
“You need?” he echoed. “I need—”
He slammed his other hand beside her head, trapping her between his arms.
“I don’t know whether to bind you,” he growled, “or kiss you.”
Her entire body jolted.
The guards froze, eyes wide, breaths held.
Seren’s weak, bloody laugh slithered across the floor. “Sweet. He’s unraveling for you.”
Kaedan moved like he might strike her again—but Ariaxa grabbed his wrist.
“Stop,” she whispered. “Look at me. Not her.”
His gaze swung back to Ariaxa.
All hunger.
All danger.
All unspoken things.
“You cannot kill her yet,” Ariaxa said softly. “We need information.”
Kaedan’s jaw tensed, his breath shaking against her lips. “If she breathes one more threat—”
“She won’t,” Ariaxa said.
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can promise she won’t get the chance.”
Kaedan searched her eyes. Slowly. Disbelieving.
“You’re in pain,” he murmured.
Ariaxa exhaled shakily. “And I’m still thinking clearer than you.”
His eyes flashed.
The burn in them wasn’t anger anymore.
It was fear.
It was want.
It was something that terrified them both.
He leaned closer, nose brushing hers. “You terrify me.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“And one day…” His voice fell into a dangerous whisper. “One day I won’t be able to stop myself.”
Ariaxa’s throat tightened. “But today you did.”
That broke something in him.
He stepped back suddenly, as if the distance kept him sane.
Then he turned to the guards.
“Throw Seren into the lowest cell,” he commanded, voice hollow. “Bind her wrists. Muzzle her if she speaks.”
Seren’s glare could have cracked stone. “This isn’t over, princess.”
Kaedan stalked forward with a snarl so vicious the guards jumped, dragging her out before she could finish.
As the doors slammed shut, the chamber finally exhaled.
Kaedan immediately turned back to Ariaxa—and froze.
She was swaying.
Her hand slipped from her side, blood dripping down her fingers.
His pupils widened in horror. “Ariaxa—”
She tried to speak but her knees buckled.
Kaedan caught her before she hit the floor, scooping her into his arms with a force that rattled his breath.
“Don’t move,” he whispered, voice unsteady. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t.”
He carried her through the corridor, past stunned guards, past trembling slaves, past nobles who bowed before his murderous expression.
His arms tightened around her, jaw clenched hard enough to crack.
Her head rested against his chest, her breath warm against his throat.
“Kaedan…” she whispered weakly. “I’m fine.”
“No,” he said, voice breaking. “You are not.”
He looked straight ahead.
And whispered a vow that chilled the blood of everyone who heard it:
“If you die…”
His hold tightened.
“…I die with you.”