The wall was cold at her back, but his body radiated heat like a living forge.
"Your Highness…" Daya whispered, her heart racing. "I only—"
"You risked your life," he cut in sharply. "For me."
His hand pressed against the wall beside her, caging her in. His eyes glowed, molten gold, unreadable. "Do you know how long it's been since anyone dared defy death for me?"
She swallowed hard, unable to answer.
For one charged moment, the air between them thickened—fire and fear, longing and fury.
But then, footsteps echoed in the hall. Guards approached.
Vanda pulled away abruptly, his expression shuttered. "Not a word of this," he commanded, voice clipped. "To anyone."
Daya nodded quickly, though her chest still heaved.
As the guards entered, bowing low, Vanda strode past them without a glance.
But his thoughts were not so easily dismissed. Her face, her voice, the reckless courage in her eyes—they burned in him like wildfire.