CHAPTER 170: AL GREEN - LET’S STAY TOGETHER

"You’re right. It was unfair to you."

She tilted her head. "Oh, thank you, Your Majesty. A royal acknowledgement of injustice. Should I bow?"

Kyllian gave a half-smile, but it faded quickly. "Jane..."

"We never had a wedding night, Kyllian. You just... asked Talon to pick me up, I was rushed into the hall, married in a heartbeat like I was a placeholder bride—and I didn’t see you the rest of the day."

"So, I ask again, how long are you going to ignore me?" she asked.

Kyllian looked down, shame tightening his jaw. "I’m sorry," he said softly. "Truly. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have been so... presumptuous. About everything."

Jane stepped closer and dropped to her knees in front of him.

"Kyllian," she said, searching his face, "do you hate me?"

"No... Of course not. Why would you say that?"

"Because that’s how it feels. You look through me like I’m invisible. Like I’m just one of Talon’s reports sitting on your desk."

"I don’t hate you. Yes, I may not always agree with... some of your attitude and actions. But hate? That’s not even close."

"Then let’s try," she said quickly, before she could lose her nerve. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for his. "I’m not asking you to love me, Kyllian. I’m not delusional—I know your heart belongs to another. But maybe, just maybe... can we at least try to give this a chance?"

Kyllian looked down at her.

"Jane..."

Her hands slid confidently along his thighs, igniting nerves he thought had long gone numb. "There was a time," she whispered, "you were very much interested in me. The way you made love to me, Kyllian... no one else even came close."

He tensed. His jaw flexed. "It was simply sex," he replied flatly.

Jane gave a soft, almost pitying laugh as if amused by the defense. "Oh, darling. That’s one of the things wives are meant for, isn’t it?" she murmured, fingers working their way to his belt buckle.

Kyllian didn’t stop her.

He leaned back in his chair, watching her with heavy eyes. Her touch wasn’t unfamiliar. His body responded. Because he was a man. Because it had been too long. Because Luna was carrying another man’s child.

"I’ve missed you," Jane whispered. Her breath grazed his skin. She licked the tip of his erection and Kyllian’s body jerked in response. That kind of effect almost unnerved him.

"Jane... no... don’t—" he murmured, but the words lacked conviction.

She looked up at him, her lips ghosting over his cock. "Why not, Kyllian? I’m your wife. You’re my king."

He swallowed hard.

When Jane got no response, her gaze locked with his, daring and determined, and then she dipped her head, her mouth enveloping his cock without warning.

Kyllian’s hands found her hair. He groaned, the sound laced with months of repression. Goddess, he had missed being wanted, being touched.

"Jane... I can’t give you any more than this."

But she didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Her mouth was busy. She didn’t want to hear words anyway. Words had never won her anything. Her moan vibrated against him, and Kyllian’s restraint frayed.

He cursed softly and pulled her off him with firm hands, helping her up as she looked up with a flush in her cheeks and triumph in her eyes. For a moment, their gazes locked—hers pleading, his conflicted.

Without speaking, Kyllian reached beneath her nightdress and slid her underwear down. His hand lingered, cupping her backside with remembrance. There had been passion once. There had even been comfort.

He turned her around and guided her down, positioning her slowly. He needed to forget. She needed to be remembered.

Jane gasped, from the intimacy of his cock inside her—the familiar fit, the way his breath hitched as she settled onto him. She would have preferred to face him, to study the storm in his eyes. But she would make do. She always did.

She moved, her palms braced against the armrests of his desk chair.

He leaned his head back, eyes closed, jaw tense.

Kyllian’s hands slid upward, settling over Jane’s breasts as she moved above him. His thumbs brushed her nipples—tight, eager peaks that responded instantly to his touch—and he rolled them gently between his fingers. Jane gasped at the sensation, her moans echoing faintly through the chamber walls.

He had to admit—her body remembered him well. And his, despite the war within him, responded in kind.

But then came that moment. That sharp edge of pleasure too powerful to stop.

Kyllian’s back arched, muscles tensing. He clutched her tightly, holding her flush against him, face buried in her neck as a guttural growl broke past his lips.

Jane smiled—sweet, sultry, and just a little bit sinister. Victory had never tasted sweeter.

She came and she conquered.

There would be a child. That was all she needed. Once the world knew, they wouldn’t care about hearts or vows or regrets. They would see a line of succession. They would see a queen.

They would see her.

*****

"Damien?" Luna’s voice floated from the study doorway, a small stack of letters in her hands.

Damien didn’t even lower his magazine—some ridiculous gossip rag with the headline ’Royal Vampire Wedding: What Will She Wear?’—he just hummed in response, half-listening.

Luna narrowed her eyes and raised the stack slightly. "Did you invite the kings and lords from the foreign cities?"

Damien finally looked up. "Huh? No, I didn’t send any invites."

Luna stepped closer, letters fanned out. "Well, I’m holding RSVP letters. Formal, stamped, signed—three other kingdoms saying they’ll be in attendance."

He tilted his head, mildly amused. "Maybe they just... heard?"

"All of them?" She arched an eyebrow. "From oceans away?"

Damien gave her his best innocent shrug. "Luna... people love weddings. Maybe my father invited them?" he stretched his hand to welcome her to him.

She stepped closer and settled in his arms, head on his shoulder. "Still... it feels off."

"I’ll look into it," he murmured, kissing her temple. "But for now... let them come. Let them all watch us take the throne. And let them know—this is just the beginning."