In the Shadow of the Crown

The air inside the hunting lodge was thick with something far more suffocating than heat.

Eliza stood where she was, her breath shallow, her lips still burning from Raen’s kiss. The weight of his magic pressed against her skin - heavy, possessive, as if it refused to let go, even when he had stepped away.

He stood by the fireplace, his broad shoulders tense, his gloved fingers braced against the stone. His head was bowed, black strands of hair falling over his forehead. The fire cast shadows along his sharp features, his golden eyes dark beneath the glow.

She should have left him alone.                                             

She should have walked away, put distance between them before the tension shattered into something neither of them could take back.

But Eliza had never been one to retreat.

She took a slow step forward. "Raen."                                              

His fingers curled against the stone. He did not turn.

She swallowed, pulse hammering against her ribs. "I’m not your prisoner."

The words hung in the air between them, fragile as glass.

And then - he laughed.

A low, bitter sound, barely more than an exhale.

When he finally turned, his golden eyes burned with something raw, something that sent a dangerous thrill through her veins. "No," he murmured, stepping closer. "You’re not."

Eliza’s breath caught as he reached for her, his fingers skimming along the curve of her jaw. The touch was deceptively light, but his eyes told another story.

"You are my obsession, Eliza." His voice was velvet and steel, a whisper of heat against her skin. "My ruin."

A shiver ran down her spine.

His other hand found her waist, gloved fingers tightening. She could feel the restraint in him, the war raging behind his eyes.

She should stop this.

She should turn away.

Instead, she let him pull her closer.

His breath fanned against her lips. "Do you know what you’ve done to me?"

Eliza’s fingers curled against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breath betraying his tension. "I didn’t ask for this."

Raen’s lips tilted into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Neither did I."

And then.

His mouth claimed hers again, but this time, it was not a clash of anger. It was something darker.

Something deeper.

His lips moved against hers, slow and deliberate, a cruel kind of torment that had her knees threatening to give out. His gloved hand slid up her spine, pressing her against him, leaving no space between them.

She gasped as his teeth grazed the corner of her mouth, a teasing scrape that sent heat pooling low in her stomach.

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. "Tell me to stop."

Eliza’s fingers twisted in the fabric of his coat.

She should.@@novelbin@@

She couldn’t.

Instead, she whispered, "Make me."

A growl rumbled from his chest, and suddenly, she was against the wall, his body caging hers in. His hand found her thigh, hiking it up against his hip, his fingers burning even through the fabric.

Her head tipped back as his mouth moved lower, ghosting over the line of her jaw, the sensitive skin of her throat. The heat of his breath sent shivers through her.

"Eliza," he murmured, her name a brand against her skin. "You are my greatest weakness."

His fingers slid along the laces of her bodice, undoing them with agonizing patience. The anticipation stole her breath, her pulse a wild thing beneath his touch.

She was drowning in him.

And she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to surface.

But just as his hand slid beneath the fabric, just as her body arched into his.

The door burst open.

"Enough," Tristan’s voice was like ice water, sharp and cutting.

Eliza barely had time to react before Raen tore away from her, turning with a snarl. His magic crackled in the air, dangerously close to snapping.

Tristan stood in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral, but his grip on the hilt of his sword was white-knuckled. His storm-grey eyes flickered between them, and Eliza felt the weight of his gaze like a blade against her skin.

"The enemy is still breathing," Tristan said coolly. "And you two are here, playing with fire."

Raen’s breathing was uneven, his fists clenched. For a moment, Eliza thought he might lunge at Tristan, the tension between them a second away from violence.

But then Raen exhaled sharply, his magic retracting, his jaw tightening. He turned away without another word, grabbing his coat and stalking past Tristan into the night.

Eliza pressed a hand to her chest, her pulse still racing.

Tristan stepped closer, his voice quieter now. "You’re in dangerous waters, Eliza."

She met his gaze. "I know."

And still.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to swim back to shore.