𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 | 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋

ততততত

𝐓 𝐎 𝐁 𝐈 𝐍

Sneaking around the guards wasn't an issue like Gareth said it would be. Yes, they were thicker, but I've memorized the routes Imogen likes to take around here. Sure enough, I find myself slipping into her bedroom in one piece.

"Imogen?"

She's not here, not that I expected her to be. Although she never warned me that there would be an event at the castle, I figured she would be involved. At least Gareth knew enough to give me a heads-up before I got myself shot off by a guard.

Now that I'm safe in Imogen's bedroom, I let my aching muscles loosen. I take a seat on the chair by her desk, analyzing her map of the castle. I search for any indications of 'Ruslan's bedroom', but there's none. Nothing at all. With my fingertip, I trace the probable route I took to get to the bedroom. I somehow wove towards the dining hall, then reversed back up towards the wing for the royal family. I missed the turn to Imogen's bedroom—or maybe the passage curved and I failed to notice?

Either way, I need to know the exact directions to get there if I want to see Aspen again.

At the cost of Imogen.

I'm an asshole. The biggest one out there in any of the neighbouring kingdoms. Whoever the hell Ruslan is to her, she didn't want to speak about him. In fact, it's not right for me to know, and for some fucked up reason I decided to interrogate her on it. She should've killed me. The chance was given to her, and instead, she decided to spare me. She let me free with one lingering warning that made my heart pound a million miles a minute.

I will hunt you down, she said. Gods, I want her too. I long for her to escape these castle boundaries and enter the wild where she thrives. I want her bow laced in her arms with her arrow poised at my tunic.

But the desires never stopped there. She's forbidden, untouchable, a ripe poisonous apple with a bite I yearn to take. When her voice speaks at me in that timbre hollow whisper, my bones liquify and I sink into that vanilla scented curse. When she captures me, I want it to be with a kiss, because that's exactly how I will reciprocate. I close my eyes, longing to taint her porcelain skin with marks that belong to me. No one fucking else. She's a challenge I need to seize, take control of—and yet I know I'll never win any of those battles. Her fight has me under her spell. Heaven forbid I destroy it.

Which is exactly what I have to do, if it means seeing Aspen.

Before I fall captive to the lingering scent of vanilla clouding her room, I descend into the catacombs through the entrance in her closet. The suffocating cold air refreshes my mind from the allure of Imogen, and back to the task at hand.

I decide to take the same route as I did this morning. I trace my fingertip along the edges of the stone passages, mentally mapping each ridge and curve. When the stone turns to wood, I know I'm nearing the dining room. It's not long until the torchlight from inside the room flickers through the few cracks between the walls. I hold my breath, keeping it steady as voices manage to echo through the wooden walls.

"Any father has difficulty giving their daughter away in marriage—king or not." The voice belongs to King Orion. I'm not familiar with him, other than he disrupted my beauty rest with Imogen with his annoying-as-fuck knocking. "I'm sure you'll earn my approval easily."

Wait—did he just say marriage?

"Good. That's what I want to hear."

My heart heaves inside my chest at the tone of that man's response—that hoarse curling tone that haunts me every night I close my eyes. It's that voice that ridicules me sober, and it's that voice that only disappears with bottles of wine and Imogen's vanilla scent.