The kiss landed like a hammer blow, silencing the ballroom as though every throat had been cut. Nicolae hung bent backward in Darius' arms, breath caught, the marble floor gleaming just inches from his braid. His lips parted, his eyes wide — but the silence wasn't his. It was the nobles, the guards, the servants, the entire court staring, jaws slack, fans frozen mid-snap.
Time stretched.
Darius' mouth left his, slow, deliberate, the faintest smirk curling at his lips. He didn't look away, didn't even glance at Kaelani, though the thunder of her heels was already cutting across the floor like war drums. His gaze was fixed wholly on Nicolae — unreadable, cool, and devastatingly composed. Is he just playing along? Or does he… The thought hung in the air, poisonous and tempting.
Nicolae, still dipped backwards, craned his neck enough to glimpse her. Kaelani, eyes ablaze, tiara askew, charging across the ballroom like a storm given flesh. Fury sharpened her beauty until it hurt to look at her.
His chest heaved. His lips pulled into a manic grin. "You're a genius, Darius," he hissed, voice cracking with glee. "It worked. She's burning. Keep it up and—"
He didn't finish.
Fingers fisted in his braid, yanking his head back so hard his vision flared white. "Ow—!" Nicolae yelped, but the sound was drowned by the collective gasp of the crowd. Kaelani wrenched him out of Darius' arms as though ripping prey from a rival predator. Darius released him without resistance, straightening smoothly, his uniform immaculate, face stoic.
Nicolae's body hit the marble with a bone-jarring smack. The Queen didn't let go. She dragged him backwards through the hall, his heels scraping, his elbows banging the floor. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, owowowow—" he yelped with every jolt, writhing like a fish caught in a net. The crowd parted, gasping, murmuring, scandal dripping from their tongues like wine.
And still, even as his head bounced off the polished stone, Nicolae twisted enough to lift one hand. Thumb raised high. A signal to Darius through the sea of horrified faces.
The captain smoothed his coat, adjusted his gloves, and gave the faintest incline of his head as the Fifth Prince vanished into the dark corridor, swallowed by Kaelani's wrath.
____________________________________________________________________________
Kaelani's fury was wildfire. She dragged Nicolae down the hall, her nails hooked in his braid, her heels striking the marble like a war drum. She didn't stop until she flung open a side chamber, one of those plush little guest rooms meant for nobles to hide in when they'd drunk too much or grown weary of gossip. The fire already burned low in the grate, candles threw warm light across velvet furniture, but the mood was anything but cozy.
She shoved him into the center of the room and slammed the door shut with her heel. His braid slipped from her fist, his large frame thudding against the carpet. "WHAT THE HELL, NICOLAE!" she roared, chest heaving.
Nicolae sat up groaning, rubbing the back of his neck, his fingers searching for blood. He was certain she'd pulled out a few strands. He blinked up at her with false innocence, lips curled into a smirk that only made her angrier. "What do you mean, Kae?"
"Don't you dare give me that innocent act—I know you are—"
He stood then, closing the distance between them, his height shadowing hers, his expression suddenly sharp and serious. "Why does it matter?"
She faltered, lips parting. Wasn't it obvious? She wanted Darius. Why was he asking as though he didn't know? She gestured wildly. "Uhm, hello? I have been after Darius for weeks—"
"It's literally been less than three days."
"WHATEVER!" she snapped, arms flailing. "It doesn't matter—you know the hoe code! You aren't supposed to hoe on other hoe's hoes!"
Nicolae wrinkled his nose. "…What?" He dragged a hand down his face, exasperated. "Kae, stop this. How much longer are you going to ignore the wildfire burning around you? I understand you feel powerless. I understand you're carrying trauma. But you can't just… refuse to live, refuse to breathe, pretending none of this is catching up to you. I'm trying to help you survive this unscathed."
Kaelani's breath came in sharp huffs. She turned from him, storming toward the fire. Her reflection wavered in the flames as she braced herself against the mantle, knuckles strained. "I know. I knoooooow. But I can't. Every time I touch it, every time I even think about getting pulled back into that mess I can't breathe. I can't think. It's too much, and I don't want to feel this again—I…don't want anything to do with him or anyone that is near him."
Her words fractured. Her breath hitched. Her chest rose and fell too fast. She clutched at her ribs as if she could hold them still, her knees weakening. Panic rippled through her like a wave crashing.
Nicolae was behind her in an instant. He pressed one steady hand flat over her heart just above her breasts pushing her backward into him, his chest firm against her spine, grounding her. His other arm wrapped around her middle until his palm rested flat against her abdomen, holding her steady as she trembled. This wasn't lust. This wasn't possession. This was ritual—old, familiar, theirs.
He bent close, his breath brushing her ear. His voice was low, steady. "Listen to my heartbeat. Listen to my breath. That's the rhythm you follow."
His hand that was on her chest rose to her shoulder, thumb tracing slow circles, anchoring her to the present. Behind her, his chest expanded and fell in deliberate, exaggerated breaths—slow, steady, measured. She focused on the pressure of his palm against her stomach and the steady cadence of his breathing where his chest pressed to her back.
Her own breaths hitched, faltered, then began to mirror his. Her heartbeat stumbled and then, gradually, caught his rhythm. The fire crackled, the candles flickered, and the panic bled out of her chest with each inhalation.
Kaelani closed her eyes, letting herself be held in that rhythm—his chest against her back, his hands grounding her, his breath guiding hers. And slowly, painfully, she came back from the edge.
Nicolae had always been a jester and a glutton for punishment in public, but when she truly needed him, the noise fell away. He was serious then, and steady. He needed her to need him; it was the purpose he had carved into his bones. As a boy she had been the only one who reached back for him, the only one who steadied him when the palace chewed him up. He did not just admire her for it. He worshipped her.
Her tremors eased under his hands. His palm at her abdomen stayed firm, the other slid from her shoulder up into her hair, working slow circles against her scalp where he knew she liked it. She started to hum as the tension bled from her, the tiara slipping crooked until she plucked it off and tossed it onto the carpet. The sound of metal on stone rang like a tiny bell.
"Kae," he murmured, his voice a low promise, "you know I'll always have your back. If you need someone to talk to, I'm here." He always offered. He always would. When the world grew unbearable, she could always come to the warmth he gave freely.
She turned slowly to face him. Her eyes were softer now, shadowed. "You know I don't really hate you," she said. "I… you just happen to look like the person who destroyed me in the past. Every time I look into your eyes I see him."
There it was. The admission he had been clawing toward. Last time she had distracted him and he had let it go. Not this time. This time it mattered. He pressed. "Kae… who is he?"
Kaelani stiffened and tried to move backwards, but his grip on her only tightened as he continued to press. "Kae, tell me. Let me help you. Stop keeping me in the dark. You know that my father is going to find a way to tie you to Ritchor, and the only way I can help you is if you choose me."
Kaelani, thinking with a smirk, retorted, "Well, technically it doesn't have to be you. Darius is—"
She was cut off by a tired and frankly over-it blond who sternly replied, "STOP. Just stop. He doesn't want you. I'm not sure he even likes anyone or that he— You know what, he thoroughly confuses me. I have no idea what's going on with him, but he doesn't want you. Not like I do. And even if you decide to never marry me, I will always be by your side, Kaelani. Always. Because you mean the world to me."
Kaelani's eyes were wet; she threatened to cry but held it back as she stood in his arms looking up into his face. He reached up and, with a gloved hand, wiped a tear forming.
"Who is he? Tell me now."
She replied with a smirk, "You know, it's kind of hot when you demand."
She moved into him and placed her arms around his neck, leaning in close. Nicolae groaned, because he knew what she was doing, and she did it very well. And it worked on him every time. But this was important, and he refused to let her distract—
Her hand slid down and that was it—Nicolae's heroic stand lasted exactly four and a half seconds. His brain screamed interrogate! but his cock had already filed for diplomatic immunity. Nicolae gasped and jolted at the sudden contact, her mouth on his ear as she breathed, "I think you need to stop asking questions and be a good boy."
His body shivered as her hand worked on him. She took it out of his pants to rip the glove off with her teeth, knowing the skin contact was better, but he grabbed her hand, stopping her.
"Kae, stop… You're hurting, and you won't let anyone in, and it's only making things wor—"
She pressed her lips to his, and his resolve shattered. A moan slipped out of him before he could stop it, raw and hungry. He kissed her back with the desperation of a starving man finally offered bread, devouring her mouth as though it were the only sustenance left in the world.
In his mind he still tried to figure out who he was. Was it someone he knew? Was it someone close? Would telling him harm him? Maybe she was protecting herself… maybe she was protecting him. Why wouldn't she let him in?
Speaking of in—she climbed on top of him somehow, and he didn't know exactly how, but she had guided both of them backwards to the couch. His body obeyed as he leaned back with her lips on his.
Nicolae tore at his gloves with his teeth, ripping the leather off and spitting them onto the floor. He needed her skin against his, nothing in between, no barriers. His bare hand slid up her thigh, warmth rushing into his palm as his mouth fought hungrily to catch her tongue. She smelled of cinnamon and wine, and beneath that, the faint sweetness of raspberry oil that clung to her skin. Her lips were everything at once—soft, demanding, merciless. The other night when she had taken him it had been wild, rough, almost brutal in its energy. This time was different.
He was under no illusion that she loved him. But this was the closest thing he had to her, and he would take it. He would not let anything interrupt this moment. One hand fumbled at the clasp of her stockings, freeing the silken fabric from the garter, while the other clutched her waist, anchoring her where she straddled him. Her tongue moved wildly against his, and he matched her, need bursting out of him in a fury he had buried for years.
Kae… why won't you let me in? The thought tore through him like a wound. She would give her body when he pressed too close, but not her truth. Not her suffering. And that was what he wanted most. To carry it. To fix it. To bleed for her if it meant she could finally stop hurting.
Her fingers found his belt, tugging at the clasp until it gave way. His blood roared hot in his veins. When she began unfastening his trousers, his hands, searching desperately, slid beneath her skirts and stilled. His eyes flew open at the shock of bare skin—no fabric, no barrier, nothing between him and her molten heat. His pulse thundered in his ears. She…she had no undergarments on this whole time? He wasn't sure if it turned him on or made him furious he will have to talk to her about that another time. He shouldn't be surprised this was Kae afterall.
Then she freed him, the cool air biting at his skin, only for her fingers to wrap tight around him and tug. His hips bucked upward helplessly, a raw moan tearing loose from his throat as his head fell back against the couch. "Kae… why do you do nothing but tease me?" he groaned, though the question was more prayer than protest.
She bent low, teeth grazing his ear. "Because it's all you deserve."
The words burned through him. Her degradation twisted in his chest and turned into fire. His hands clamped to her waist and, with a strangled noise, he lifted her above him, trembling with need. But he didn't move further, not yet. His eyes searched hers, pleading. Please. Give me this. Give me you.
She sighed, rolled her eyes, and then dropped onto him in one merciless motion.
Nicolae's cry split the air, guttural, raw. His whole body seized, fire licking every nerve, his vision whiting out at the sensation of her. She was the only thing in this world that felt carved for him, the only prize worth his ridiculous life of humiliation and obsession. Yet even in the ecstasy, he knew this was scraps. She gave herself so freely to others, and he was always left with nothing, gnawing on the bones of her attention.
It was heaven. It was torture. It made him furious, desperate, and alive all at once. He wanted to weep from the cruelty of it even as his body begged for more.
They found their rhythm almost instantly. Both were experienced lovers, practiced in the give and take of bodies, and the movement came as naturally as breathing. But what drove Nicolae beyond reason wasn't the motion itself — it was the sound. The gasps that spilled from Kaelani, sharp and trembling, pulled straight from her throat by him. Pleasure he was giving her. That was his doing. And the knowledge of it, the proof of it, was more erotic than anything he had ever tasted.
He wanted more. He needed more. "Kae… slap me. Just across the face. Please…"
She didn't hesitate. Her hand cracked against his cheek, snapping his head to the side so hard it struck the arm of the couch. His face stayed there, pressed against the cushions, as he surged up into her with a broken cry. The sting burned bright across his skin, nerves exploding, pain curling hot into pleasure until the two were indistinguishable. Exotic. Addictive. Necessary. He breathed it in like air.
She leaned over him, bracing herself with both hands on either side of his head. He tilted his face upward, burying his mouth in the shadowed swells of her breasts, still bound in her garments but spilling against him with every movement. Sweat dripped from her collarbone, sliding down her skin until it landed hot on his cheek, and he reveled in the taste of it, the smell of her, the weight of her above him.
"Uhnnn—uhhh—uhhhhhhmmm," his cries broke from him, guttural and unrestrained, as his body gave in. His cheek glowed red from her slap, still tingling, still alive. His hips bucked one final, desperate time, and he shattered with her name on his lips.
"Kaaaeeeee—uhhnnnnn!"
He emptied into her, pulsing, his body wracked with heat and waves of release, his essence spilling thick and hot into her. It was madness and bliss, the proof of it flooding between them as though her body had been made for his, as though inevitability had finally caught up to them both.
Her own climax came sharp behind his, her walls clenching and closing tight around him, refusing to let go, holding him as if to keep him there forever. He could feel her body seize and then yield, waves rolling through her, dragging him with her into the dark.
When the tremors ebbed, she collapsed onto his chest, both of them slick with sweat, both still joined, their lungs fighting for air as if they had run a marathon. Nicolae's arms wrapped tight around her waist, his face buried in her neck. He wished, desperately, that this moment could stretch into forever. That the world outside would stay locked away, another nightmare he never had to face.
The two of them stayed tangled together, not moving, just breathing. The fire crackled and the room filled only with the rhythm of their lungs and the faint hiss of sweat cooling on skin. Kaelani had to admit—if only to herself—that sex with Nicolae was different. She didn't know how, or why, but it was. It felt different than with anyone else. And that difference unsettled her. Why was he different? Why did he feel different?
She could feel his breath on her neck, hot and uneven. Coming in short gasps. At first, she thought it was just the aftermath. Until she realized it wasn't.
She shifted up, sat straighter, and grabbed his chin in one hand, forcing his face up to hers. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you—are you crying? For reals, Nicolae?"
Her tone was indignant, shocked.
Nicolae smiled at her through damp lashes, his eyes wet, unashamed. He nodded. "Yeah. I always cry for you, Kae. Whether you see it or not."
Her stomach flipped, but she slammed the door shut on it. Emotions. She hated them. They made her vulnerable, and vulnerability always ended the same way: someone trying to chain themselves to her. She would not have it. Not tonight. Not ever.
She closed her eyes, sighed, and said flatly, "No crying in front of me, you idiot."
Nicolae chuckled softly, his arms tightening around her waist as if to anchor himself. "I can't help it. I'm a sucker for Queen Kaelani. And you just gave me the world."
Kaelani rolled her eyes. Being harsh with him would only fuel him—he was that much of a sicko—so she let it drop. She shifted, sliding off him, his body slipping from hers with a soft groan that escaped his throat. She ignored it, still straddling him as she reached up to fix her hair, dragging her fingers through the damp curls.
"So," she said, smoothing a loose strand back into place, "I hope we have an understanding about staying away from my Coco Devil."
Nicolae's face went stone serious in an instant. His voice pitched higher. "Seriously? You're going to bring him up right after we—after we made love?"
Kaelani smirked and pressed a finger to his lips. "I don't make love, blondie. I make men shut up with my vagina. There's a huge difference."
He scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching even through his outrage. But his voice softened, earnest cutting through the bravado. "Kae, you know you can't hide your pain from me. I see it on your face. I see it in your posture. I see it in you. I know you better than anyone—and I can tell you're not okay."
"Ughhh, this again." Kaelani shifted, ready to push herself up, but Nicolae's arm locked her in place.
"No. You're not running this time, Kae." His voice was low but fierce, vibrating with something raw. His hand clamped around her wrist as he sat up, pulling her back onto his lap, his other arm banded tight around her waist. His grip trembled, not with weakness, but with the force of how badly he needed her answer. "Who is he?"
Her eyes dropped to his hand gripping her wrist, then lifted slowly to his face. Her glare was sharp enough to cut. "I know you aren't holding me down. I know you aren't that stupid."
"KAE—TELL ME! Who is he?" Nicolae's voice cracked, spit leaving his lips with the demand. He refused to let her go.
She looked at him then—really looked at him. His pupils were blown wide, his breath ragged, his whole body taut with the kind of desperate focus she had only ever seen in battle. There was no grin, no jest, no masochist's thrill lighting his eyes. He was serious. The most serious she had ever seen him outside of rage.
Her fingers curled into a fist, the threat trembling on her lips. "Boy, you better let me go before I—"
"WHO IS HE?" His face was only inches from hers now, their foreheads nearly colliding. He wasn't yelling to fill the air—he was yelling because he couldn't contain it anymore. He would not let it go.