The carriage wheels continued moving with minimum speed as they entered the kingdom of Veylar.
Elena had expected something... smaller, perhaps. But the city was vast with majority of the space taken up by small stores and kiosks. Banners of silver and green flapped from the high watch towers by the sea, catching the wind beneath the pale moon. The air itself smelled of iron and pine...that dusty scent.
Beside her, Damien sat with one leg crossed, silent as ever. The firelight from the carriage lantern reflected on his features, painting his sharp jawline in hues of gold and shadow. He seemed at ease, though his eyes were still at alert, scanning the streets beyond from where he sat.
When at last they reached the palace gates of Veylar, it was already very late at night. The structure loomed like a fortress carved from the forest with bright torches lighting up the path as they passed by, guards stepping forward to greet them upon their arrival.
The royal commissary, a tall man with slicked-back hair and eyes as sharp as a hawk's, bowed deeply. "Welcome, Your Highnesses. On behalf of His Majesty, allow me to extend his hospitality."
Damien gave a curt nod to the man. "Where is your king?"
"His Majesty is engaged in an event this evening. He will receive you both at dawn during breakfast."
The commissary gestured to them to follow him. He led them inside through the vast halls of marble and stone. Elena kept staring around her as they walked by. The entire palace just gave off this vibe of a centuries old nation lost in time, enchanting her like a spell.
They were led to a chamber and the doors were pushed open by two servants. The commissary inclined his head. "Please, rest from your journey. You will be called upon in the morning, your highness."
Elena walked in first, followed by Damien. Confused, she turned and saw him standing right at the door. That was when she realized what was happening they were going to share a room together!.
Elena parted her lips to ask for a separate room, but Damien's gaze immediately picked up her reaction and dismissed the commissary. The man instantly bowed and withdrew with the servants trailing after him, shutting the heavy doors behind.
As soon as the door shut behind them, silence enveloped the entire room.
Elena turned slowly, her throat already aching from dryness. Damien had already started to shed his cloak, tossing it onto a chair and revealing his royal attire stretched tightly across his shoulders. In the corner where she stood, her eyes followed every movement he made without blinking. His fingers moved to the golden shirt and started unbuttoning them.
He glanced at her and she immediately looked down, trying to avoid his gaze.
Damien slowly withdrew his gaze. "You wanted a different room?" he asked, shifting his attention back to his shirt.
Elena stiffened at the sound of his voice. "I...well—."
His lips curved and his hands paused midway from unbuttoning his shirt . He moved nearer, slow and unhurried, like a predator cornering prey. "Is it really uncomfortable?."
Her heart hammered as he stopped before her with his buttons fully undone. Her eyes slowly trailed down from his face to his chest before finally settling on his abs in front of her. Elena felt her face heat up by a hundred degrees and she suddenly felt the urge to touch them.
Damien lifted a hand and brushed a lock of hair away from her neck slowly. His voice dropped lower, edged with teasing danger.
"If you did, why do you keep staring at me?."he murmured to himself as his hand slithered from her neck down to her nape.
His face inched closer to hers, his lips mere inches from hers and the heat of him sinking into her skin. Her mind screamed at her to step back, but her body betrayed her, frozen in place, drawn into the pull of him.
She swallowed hard, trembling. "Your highness..."
His brown eyes darkened and his gaze dropped briefly to her lips. The corner of his mouth curved up into a grin.
The space between them shrank until his breath mingled with hers closer and closer.
In that fragile, burning moment, Elena wondered if she feared him more than she feared herself. His lips brushed slightly against hers before he suddenly pulled away. Before she could even process the entire thing, he was already at the far end of the room where the walk-in closet was.
What the heck was that? How could he do that and just leave me hanging like that?!. Elena placed her hands over her chest to calm her raging heart. This prince was just too much!.
Far away, in the kingdom they had left behind, the crown prince's fury burned hotter with each passing hour.
Cassian stood in the Queen's chamber with fists clenched at his sides. "You allowed him to go in my stead," he spat. "Me — the rightful heir, the Crown Prince — passed over like a boy unfit to serve. Do you not see how this mocks me?"
The Queen sat in her high-backed chair maintaining her calm composure. She poured herself a cup of dark wine, as though his rage amused her.
"Patience," she said softly, her voice like velvet over steel. "Your time will come, Cassian. But not yet."
Her calmness only enraged him further rather than calm him. His jaw clenched and his vision darkened at the edges. He felt it rising the bloodlust in him rising quickly after he had so carefully suppressed it.
With a strangled sound, he turned on his heel and stormed from the chamber, banging the door behind him.
The corridors immediately made way for the raging prince. Servants scattered before him, sensing the danger in his stride.
He turned a corner that led to the main floor when a young girl bumped into him. He cornered her — a young girl no older than fifteen, carrying a tray of linens. Her eyes went wide as he seized her arm.
"P-please. I apologize, Your Highness—" she stammered.
But reasoning had long fled from him. The gnawing hunger roared within him, demanding release. He sank his teeth into her throat, drinking deeply as he drowned in the ecstasy of her warm blood. The human girl's struggles weakened, clawing feebly at his arm to release her before she finally stilled.
When at last he dropped her, her body crumpled lifeless at his feet. He stared down at her pale face, his chest heaving like he had just run a marathon. For a moment, horror flickered in his gaze — then cold indifference settled over it.
He slung her body over his shoulders and disappears into the shadows behind the palace, dumping it without care. The stench of blood lingered in the air about him making him feel disgusted with his own person.
In the moonlight, Cassian whispered to himself, "If they will not give me what I want... I will just have to take it."