“Lilith.”

His voice cracked like a whip—low, sharp, and dangerous.

I spun around.

Valen stood at the threshold of the chamber, his tall frame cutting through the candlelight like a shadow made real. His eyes weren’t red. Not yet. But they burned.

“What are you doing here?”

I took a step back, hands raised slightly like he was a wild animal I didn’t want to provoke.

“I… I didn’t mean to. The fireplace—it opened—”

“You should not be here.”
Each word was a warning. Clipped. Controlled.

The room suddenly felt too small, too close, the air thick and hot like the aftermath of lightning.

“Valen, I didn’t know—”

He moved.

One step.

Two.

I backed up until the mirrors were at my spine, their cold glass pressing into my back. His eyes followed mine—glancing at the claw in its box, the mirrors, the reflection of us standing in this hidden shrine.

“You touched it?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered. “I didn’t. I swear.”

His fists were clenched. Veins stood out on his forearms. His breathing was rough, ragged, almost animal.

“You don’t understand what this place is,” he growled. “This is not some hallway or garden you can explore. This—this is the only part of me I’ve never let anyone see. Not even her.”

Her.

My mother.

I flinched, but didn’t look away. “Then maybe you should’ve let someone in.”

That stopped him.

Just for a second.

“You think I want you to see this?” His hand swept toward the claw, toward the mirrors. “You think I meant for you to find this twisted little corner of my mind? The battles I lost? The people I loved and killed in the same breath?”

“I don’t know, Valen!” My voice rose, shaking. “I just… I saw it. I saw the mirror—my father—”

He went still.

And cold.

“I saw it wasn’t you,” I added more softly.

His jaw flexed. “And if it had been?”

“I’d still be here,” I said, breath trembling.

A pause. Long and sharp.
The kind that cuts.

Then he took another step forward.

I pressed back into the glass.

His arms caged me in, one hand braced against the wall beside my head. His forehead rested just above mine, not touching—close enough I could feel the heat of him, the rage barely held beneath his skin.

“I should be furious,” he murmured, voice deadly quiet now. “I am furious. You disobeyed me. You found the one place in this world I swore never to reveal. You looked.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to cry.

“But I won’t punish you,” he said, softer still. “Because the truth is…”

He shut his eyes.

“…I think I wanted you to find it.”

My breath caught.

He pulled back an inch. Just enough to meet my gaze.

“You scare me,” he whispered. “Not because you found this place. But because I’m starting to think there’s nothing I want to keep from you anymore.”

His anger had quieted—but not vanished. It burned differently now. Not wild. Not feral.

Focused.

Possessive.

Vulnerable.

And that terrified me more than the yelling ever could.

“I’m sorry,” I said, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” he said. “But if you ever come back here alone… I don’t know if I’ll let you leave.”

He didn’t say it like a threat.

He said it like a truth.

And then he was gone.

The chamber’s warmth faded with him. I sank to my knees, heart pounding, breath shaking.

And for the first time… I didn’t know if I was falling in love with him—

Or falling into him.

Valen lift me facing each other lift from under the butt

“Valen—put me down!”

I shrieked as my feet left the floor, his arms strong and unyielding as he gripped beneath my thighs, lifting me effortlessly. My body jolted against his chest, our faces inches apart, breaths mingling.

We were way too close.

His crimson eyes locked onto mine, glinting with something between irritation and amusement. “You’re mad,” he growled.

“No, I’m furious!” I snapped, squirming in his grasp, palms pushing at his shoulders. “This isn’t how you solve things, you overgrown bloodsucking—”

He growled again, low and warning, then pressed me harder against him—my back brushing the cool stone wall, his body pinning me in place.

“Valen—”
But the rest of my protest died on my lips.

Because his mouth was suddenly on them.

His lips crashed into mine—hot, rough, and demanding.

I gasped, stiffening in shock. His kiss was wild, like he was trying to speak a thousand unsaid things through it. Like he needed to taste me to believe I was still here, still his.

“Mmhmm—” I tried to speak again, but his mouth moved against mine, silencing the last of my resistance.

And I melted.

I hated how easy it was—how quickly the fire in my chest changed from anger to something deeper, needier. My hands curled into his shirt. His fangs scraped my lower lip just barely, a teasing threat.

When he finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered.

“And yet,” he murmured, voice husky, “you kissed me back.”

“I was trying to yell!”

“Sounded like surrender.”

I glared at him, still caught in his hold, legs wrapped around his waist like this was perfectly normal.

“You do realize this is an entirely inappropriate way to apologize?”

He smirked. “Who said I was apologizing?”

I huffed, ready to argue again—
But then he pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re mine, Lilith,” he said softly. “And I don’t know how to let you go. So next time, if you’re mad at me… scream at me. Hit me. Don’t run.”

The way he said it—quiet, broken—it scraped against my ribs.

“I didn’t run,” I whispered. “You pushed me away.”

His breath hitched. He slowly set me down, eyes still locked on mine.

Neither of us said anything more.

Because everything that needed saying was already burning between us.

With a sharp snap of his fingers, shadows surged around us like a tidal wave—cold and silken, yet somehow alive. The air crackled as the world bent to his will.

In four heartbeats, we were no longer in the corridor.

We were in his bedroom.

I barely had time to gasp before Valen pressed me back against the bed, his weight caging me in, dominant and overwhelming. His crimson eyes flickered like embers, filled with hunger—not just for my body, but for something deeper. Something he’d barely let himself want until now.

“Valen—”

My words caught when his lips met my neck, open-mouthed and hot. He kissed along the curve of my throat, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring me. Like every inch of skin he touched belonged to him.

“You smell like fury and temptation,” he murmured against my pulse. “It drives me mad.”

He didn’t bite. He didn’t rush. He worshipped. His hand slid beneath the hem of my shirt, cool fingers splaying over my stomach, tracing upward. My breath hitched.

“You scared me,” I whispered, chest rising and falling beneath him.

He paused, lips hovering just below my jaw. “I know.”

“And I’m still angry.”

“I know that too.”

“Then why are you kissing me like you own me?”

His eyes met mine—dark, burning, honest. “Because I do. And because I’m terrified you’ll stop letting me.”

Silence fell.

The only sound was our breath, mingling between us.

I reached up, threading my fingers into his silver hair, pulling him back down—not because he forced me. Not because he snapped his fingers or used shadows or power.

But because I wanted him. All of him. Even the parts that scared me. Especially those. His hand found my bra, I felt his hand gentle grabbing my chest, his lips on my collarbone and his eyes on me. 

He other hand move down tracing circles on my hip, then on my thigh. I felt my heart pounding.

Then—just as his lips returned to mine, just as my hands fisted in his shirt and the heat between us coiled tighter—

Knock knock.

Soft. Polite. But horribly real. We froze. “Master Valen,” came the muffled voice from behind the thick wooden door. “The commander requests your presence. It’s urgent.”

Valen didn’t move at first. His forehead pressed to mine, his breath still uneven. A low growl vibrated in his throat—not angry, not dangerous.

Just... denied.

He sat up with a sigh so heavy I felt it in my bones. One hand ran through his silver hair, the other still resting possessively against my thigh.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” he called back, his voice rough, strained—but calm.

Footsteps faded down the hall. The silence that followed was louder than anything. I slowly sat up, pulling the edge of the blanket around me. “Well… timing is a cruel thing.”

Valen looked down at me, eyes dark and smoldering, jaw tight. “I’m going to kill whoever knocked.”

I snorted. “You can’t kill your own staff.”

“I can. I just won’t. Yet.” I smirked despite the blush on my cheeks, despite the way my heart still raced like a drum in a war march. And before he could leave, I leaned up, brushing my lips against his. “Go,” I whispered. “Before I drag you back.”

He stilled—then smirked, fangs flashing just enough to tease. “When I return… you won’t get to escape so easily.”

Then he turned, leaving nothing but shadows in his wake. And the slow, maddening burn he’d left behind.