Kaedan didn’t speak after Ariaxa said the words.
He just grabbed her, his fingers tightening around her wrist with a force that was all fury and fear tangled together. In one swift motion, he swept her out of the blood chamber and down the corridor, ignoring the shocked stares of guards, ignoring the councilors who whispered, ignoring the rules he once obeyed.
He dragged her straight into his private chambers.
The door slammed behind them with a sound like thunder.
Before Ariaxa could breathe, Kaedan spun her around, lifted her arms above her head, and locked her wrists into the iron hooks mounted on the wall. The metal clicked shut sharply — not in cruelty, but in desperation.
His chest heaved.
His hands shook.
He stood before her like a man at war with himself.
“I want to punish you,” he growled, voice cracking like something inside him had finally snapped.
“And I want to protect you.”
He stepped closer until his breath ghosted across her lips.
“I don’t know which one will win.”
Ariaxa’s pulse raced.
But she did not retreat.
She lifted her chin, eyes locked on his.
“Then choose.”
The words shattered his control.
Kaedan’s hands slammed to either side of her head, caging her against the wall. His forehead dropped to hers, breath trembling, chest pressed against her body as though he needed the contact to stay sane.
“You make me crazy,” he whispered, voice trembling with restraint. “You make me lose everything I’ve rebuilt.”
Ariaxa’s voice was barely a breath.
“You didn’t lose anything.”
His hand slid down her side, gripping her waist hard enough to make her gasp.
“That’s the problem,” he murmured against her skin. “I didn’t lose you.”
He pressed closer.
His lips brushed the hollow of her throat—soft, trembling, not quite a kiss.
His fingers dragged along her hips.
His body moved into hers with a raw, unsteady rhythm that felt like anger and hunger intertwined.
Ariaxa’s breath hitched.
The chains rattled above her head.
Kaedan groaned quietly—a sound ripped from some deep, aching place inside him—as he pressed his mouth to her neck. His lips moved with desperate reverence, as if worshiping every inch of skin he touched. His hands roamed her waist, her ribs, her spine, gripping, trembling, fighting not to lose control entirely.
She pulled at the chains, arching into him.
“Kaedan…”
He kissed her—fiercely, hungrily, almost painfully—with a force that sent heat spiraling through her. Their bodies collided in a frantic, breathless rhythm, each movement fueled by a storm of emotions neither knew how to tame.
It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t slow.
It was two people drowning, clinging to each other like lifelines.
Kaedan broke the kiss only to drag in a ragged breath, his lips brushing hers again and again.
“You make me want—”
He broke off, pressing his forehead to her shoulder.
“You make me want everything I can’t have.”
Ariaxa’s voice trembled. “Then take it.”
His entire body shuddered.
For a moment, Kaedan hovered on a knife’s edge — violence and vulnerability warring behind his eyes. His hand slid up her spine, stopping at the nape of her neck. His breath was hot and erratic against her throat.
Then—
He forced himself back.
Hard.
The break felt like a physical tear.
Kaedan staggered a step away, chest heaving, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were bone-white.
“I can’t,” he rasped. “Not now. Not when I don’t know if I’m touching you because I want you—”
His voice cracked.
“—or because I’m terrified of losing you.”
Ariaxa swallowed, the chains still warm from his grip. “Kaedan…”
He shook his head, pacing, fighting something invisible and monstrous inside himself. Then he stopped in front of her again, gripping her face gently but fiercely.
“After the war,” he whispered, voice breaking,
“you and I will decide what we are.”
Ariaxa’s breath caught.
The chains rattled softly.
Kaedan’s thumb brushed her cheek, trembling.
“But not until then.”