The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across Kael's private chamber, stretching like claws on the cold obsidian walls. Silence reigned—except for the measured breath of the man seated at the heart of it all, his golden eyes alight with calculated interest.
Across from him stood Empress Selene, a vision sculpted from dominance and danger. Her presence wasn't simply felt—it commanded. Her crimson eyes locked with his, brimming with equal parts amusement and veiled threat.
"You don't seem surprised to see me," she said, voice as smooth as silk over steel.
Kael didn't blink. He took a deliberate sip from his goblet. "A queen never moves without purpose. A king anticipates her two steps ahead."
A smirk tugged at her lips. "Is that what you are now? A king?"
Kael leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Not yet. But I'm clearing the board."
Selene stepped forward, her heels silent against polished stone. She moved like a storm contained in flesh, deadly and beautiful. "You play this game well, Kael."
"And yet," he murmured, "you're still here. That means you're either impressed... or desperate."
She chuckled, the sound dark and regal. "Perhaps both."
She circled him now, close enough for her perfume—dark rose and something older, almost divine—to reach him. "The Prophet's shadow creeps through my Empire. Ministers whisper in corridors they once feared to walk. My enemies gain courage… and I despise courage in the hands of fools."
Kael's voice was a blade, calm and cold. "You want me to sever the root before it strangles your throne."
Selene's smile turned wicked. "I want him eradicated. Utterly. No ashes. No legacy."
She placed a single hand on the armrest of his chair, her face now inches from his. "And I want to do it... with you."
Kael didn't move. "And what do I gain from burning your enemies?"
She met his gaze unflinchingly. "Power. Influence. A hand on the scepter when the dust clears. I offer no leash—only partnership."
Kael tilted his head. "You assume I desire the throne."
Selene laughed softly. "No. You want everything behind it—the control, the legacy, the power to reshape the world. And I want a man beside me who doesn't tremble when I speak."
There was a pause. A breath held in the space between conquest and desire.
Then Kael rose.
His voice was low, a whisper sharpened to a blade. "If we do this, it's not as ruler and servant. It's as wolves, Selene. Equal. Unbound. Ruthless."
Selene's eyes flared with something dangerous—and delighted. "Then we are of the same breed."
The pact was forged—not in ink or blood, but in ambition. It did not need to be spoken. It was.
Dawn.
Kael stood upon the eastern battlements of his war fortress. Below, his forces moved with clockwork precision. Soldiers, spies, shadowbinders—the army of a man who made gods nervous.
Ravyn stepped beside him, her cloak fluttering in the wind. "You made a deal with her."
Kael didn't turn. "She made a deal with me."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And do you trust her?"
Kael allowed himself a quiet, amused breath. "I trust her to act in her best interest. For now... that serves mine."
Ravyn looked out across the horizon. "And The Prophet?"
Kael's eyes burned brighter.
"He believes he manipulates the board. But the fool never stopped to ask..."
His voice dropped, venom and fire entwined.
"Who built it."
To be continued...