Rose pov
The night pressed heavy against the windows of my office, shadows stretching long across the walls like claws waiting to drag me down. My people lingered outside the door—loyal, watchful, ready to bleed at my command. But even their presence couldn't chase away the electricity that clung to the room.
Because he was here. Asher King.
He stood across from me, broad shoulders tense, eyes as sharp as a blade. I shouldn't have let him in, not after everything. But he came and i let him in.
The Serpents had always been snakes, slithering in the dark, waiting for the right moment to strike. Adrian's betrayal had only confirmed what I already knew—that family meant nothing to them. Blood meant nothing. And now, with Shadowhand sheltering him, my enemies were multiplying.
Which made Asher's arrival...useful.
But useful didn't explain the heat between us, the way my pulse beat harder when his gaze locked on mine, steady and unflinching. That was something else. Something I hated myself for wanting. I'm not suppose.
But seeing him standing there gives me hope but hope it just an illusion.
"You walk into my territory," I said softly, pacing around the edge of my desk, watching him from every angle. "You come alone, no shield, no backup. Tell me, King—are you brave, or are you stupid?"
His lips twitched. "Maybe both. But I'm still standing here, aren't I?"
The corner of my mouth curved, sharp and deliberate. I stopped inches from him, so close I could see the faint scar along his jaw, the storm in his eyes. "For now."
He didn't flinch. That annoyed me almost as much as it intrigued me. Most men broke under my gaze, cracked open and spilled their fear across the floor. But Asher? He held steady, like he belonged in this den of vipers.
"You know Adrian's not alone," he said, voice low. "Shadowhand is hiding him. If you go after them recklessly, you'll start a war bigger than either of us can control."
I tilted my head, studying him. "And why should I care about control? Chaos is my language. War is my inheritance."
He leaned forward, his breath brushing against my skin. "Because you want Adrian's head more than you want ashes."
Damn him. He was right. But I wasn't about to hand him that victory.
"Maybe," I allowed, circling him once more, dragging my fingers lightly across his arm as I passed. The tension snapped tight between us, sparking like live wire. "Or maybe I want both."
His hand shot out, catching my wrist before I moved too far. The grip was firm, but not cruel. I could feel his pulse hammering beneath his skin, and I wondered if he could feel mine racing too. Our eyes locked, fire against fire.
"You don't have to stand alone," he said. "Not this time."
For a heartbeat, the air shifted. It wasn't just business anymore. It wasn't just strategy. It was heat, dangerous and consuming, threatening to unravel the careful armor I'd built around myself.
I pulled free slowly, deliberately, refusing to let him see how close he was to cracking me open. "Careful, King. Aligning with me means blood on your hands. It means no turning back."
His gaze didn't waver. "Then maybe I'm already too far gone."
The words sank into me, deeper than I wanted them to. I turned away, pouring myself a glass of whiskey to hide the way my chest tightened. I couldn't afford to trust him, not fully. But I couldn't afford to refuse him, either his useful to me.
So I drank, savoring the burn, and spoke the words that would bind us both. "Fine. An alliance. We take Adrian down together. But make no mistake, Asher—if you betray me, I'll cut out your heart out myself."
When I turned back, he was smiling faintly, like the threat only made me more appealing. Bastard.
The game had changed. The board was set. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure whether I was about to win my empire—or lose myself in the fire.