Thorne's footsteps echoed down the corridor; it was late at night. Way late at night, and he was just heading to his room. His body ached—his bones felt heavier than armor, and his mind was a mess.

The day had been hectic—no—it had been hell.

Watching Elara leave the palace was something he never saw coming but still happened. He knew she could be over the top sometimes, and perhaps she did what she did because Irene provoked her… Lord Kethan wanting her to be punished wasn't surprising, but her leaving the palace certainly was.

He had agreed to a punishment for her because the rumors needed to quiet down, and she needed space from him. Or maybe he did…

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration dragging at his every step.

"I need sleep.

" His mind was fraying at the edges, too many days without shutting his eyes. If Caelum had any sense, he'd have the sedative herb prepared already. A few drops, and he'd finally rest.

He was nearly at his chambers when he passed her door.

He stopped.

Right outside her door.

The wood stood between them like a wall. He hadn't meant to stop, hadn't even realized he had. But his body… it knew where she was.

He didn't move. Just waited.

Inside, there was a shift. The softest inhale… sharp and sudden.

She knew he was there.

He could hear her heartbeat, pounding hard against her ribcage. Her scent leaked out through the cracks, warm and sweet and laced with… was that fear?

No. Not quite. Nervousness. Uncertainty. His presence still rattled her.

Good.

No.

Not good.

He didn't know anymore.

He clenched his jaw, remembering she'd been avoiding him. He could tell. She barely looked him in the eye, and when she tasted his food, she'd pin her gaze to the floor.

Watching her scamper away whenever he was near was maddening. She didn't stay in his presence for longer than a minute, and before he could say a word, she was bowing and running off again.

Now, standing in front of her door, listening to her breathing, smelling the way her scent poured out in nervous waves, he could go to her. Could knock. Could say something—anything.

But he said nothing.

His gaze lingered a second longer on her door before he looked away and walked away.

He made it to his own room, shoving open the doors with a sigh. He needed wine. No—he needed sleep. He needed that herb. Maybe two drops tonight.

He stepped into the room and stopped.

The scent hit him first. Jasmine. Wine. Something sweeter, more manufactured.

His jaw clenched, mind running through all the possibilities. He carefully stepped into the room, eyes narrowing instantly.

Sprawled out on his sheets like a gift wrapped in black lace, one strap teasing down her shoulder, candles flickering behind her, and two goblets of wine waiting on the bedside table.

Thorne's blood ran cold.

She smiled slowly and seductively as she calmly got up from the bed. "My King," she purred.

"What are you doing in here?" Thorne asked, his voice flat, cold, dangerous.

She'd set it all up. There was a small table where candles flickered softly, making the room glow. Another table stood near the bed, laid out with roasted chicken, bread, and fruit. Two goblets of wine waited beside them.

What the heck?

Freya's lips curved into a practiced smile as she slowly got up from his bed. She was so sure of this. After all, her mother had told her. There were only two ways to a man's heart: sex and food. She'd made the servants cook, and the sex… that wasn't a problem.

She was a pro.

She sultrily moved to Thorne, biting her lips seductively. Really, who could resist her? She'd even tuned out her scent and applied an overwhelming smooth of seductress perfume.

This was her moment. She'd timed it so perfectly well too. He was stressed, the day had been hectic. With the fight and the general leaving. He'd be looking for a way to release all that pent-up energy. What other perfect way to release all that energy if not sex? A woman like her who was pliant and ready to be bred.

Freya fluttered her lashes, licking her lips. "I thought…" she began slowly, "I could keep you company tonight." She looked up at him, blinking like some possessed doll.

Thorne didn't speak.

Didn't blink.

Just stared at her like she was a roach crawling across his floor.

Freya took another step closer to him, holding the goblets. "You've had a long day, my King. Let me help you relax." She offered him one of the glasses, her eyes dropping to his chest, then dragging downwards. "I could take care of you…"

She lifted her hand, reaching for him. His hand shot out—not for the wine, but for her wrist.

She yelped, startled.

The goblet clattered to the floor, red wine spilling like blood on the floor.

Freya's eyes widened with fear and shock.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Her mother didn't say it could go like this. Men didn't react like this.

"M-M-My King…" she stammered, her voice high and trembling.

"You have the audacity…" he murmured, his voice low, dangerously calm, "…to come into my chambers. Uninvited. Dressed like a whore."

A whore?

Her breath caught in her throat.

"M-my king, please—"

His hand shot out like a whip, grabbing a fistful of her hair with such force she screamed. It felt like her scalp tore in half as he yanked her forward, her knees buckling beneath her. Tears sprang to her eyes instantly, unbidden and hot.

"You think you can pull this little stunt and walk away? Are you mad?" he snarled.

He scoffed, disgust bleeding into every word as he shook his head. "You wanted to give a performance, yeah? I'll give you one hell of a show."

He jerked her backward by her hair and flung her down like she was trash. She fell hard, her shoulder hitting the ground first with a painful thud. Her body trembled, sobs wracking her as she cowered on the cold stone floor.

When she looked up, he was already slowly walking towards her.

"No—no please," she whimpered, crawling backward, her hands scraping against the floor. "I made a mistake. I made a mistake. Have mercy. Please, please!"

Thorne rolled up his sleeves. "Oh no, Freya. You wanted to play games. So let's play."

Panic broke inside her.

Her eyes went wide—too wide—almost bulging out of her eye socket. "Adina!" she shrieked, a desperate, wretched sound.

Thorne stilled.

Freya saw the pause and lunged at it like a lifeline. "Adina, let me in!" she cried. "S-she—she opened the doors for me and let me in!"

Thorne's eyes burned with fury as Freya's words hung heavy in the air. "Adina let me in. S-she—"

The silence was deafening. His whole body tensed, jaw clenching so hard the muscle ticked.

"What?"

She nodded frantically, the tears now streaming down her face. "She did," Freya choked out. "I—I was hesitant, but she told me you needed someone. She said you wouldn't mind."

Thorne's jaw locked, the muscle in his cheek twitching. That was low. Even for a desperate concubine clawing her way to the top.

"She wouldn't…" he said through gritted teeth. "She knows better than that."

"She wouldn't," he repeated, his voice colder this time, more confident. "She knows better."

"Then call her!" Freya cried, seizing the moment. "Ask her! She'll tell you!"

Thorne couldn't believe the nerve. The audacity. The delusion. There were many things he could accuse Adina of, many ways she got under his skin, but this?

No.

Not after the library…

Not when her scent still haunted his senses.

Not when she was his mate.

He didn't blink. "ADINA!"

It took a minute, and the door opened. Adina stepped in carefully; she'd been hearing the noise. The angry scent in the air.

Her eyes widened with shock when she saw Freya on the floor with her tear-streaked face.

Freya looked at her like she was her salvation. She immediately jumped on the moment like a starved wolf. "Adina," she sobbed, crawling slightly in her direction. "Tell him! Tell him what you said to me! You—you told me to go in, remember? You said he needed company—"

"Enough!" Thorne growled, and she flinched hard.

Adina swallowed hard. "Your Majesty." She bowed.

Thorne didn't take his eyes off Freya. "Lady Freya here said you allowed her into my chambers. Is that true?" He asked confidently.

Adina stiffened, her gaze shifting to Freya for a second.

A single heartbeat passed.

"Yes," she said quietly. "It's true."