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“Lukene, we are to be wed. Dance with me…” She casts a pointed glance toward the throne. I follow her gaze and catch my father’s approving nod. He expects me to comply. Damn it. Sighing, I give in, leading her onto the floor. I close my eyes for a second, imagining it’s Reign in my arms as I move Cora through the steps.

“I doubt we will wed, Cora. However, on the off chance I am forced to marry you… I just want you to know that I did not choose you. That choice was taken from me.”

Her eyes narrow. There’s no affection in them. I’m just a trophy, a prize in her game to win power. Over the years, she’s grown colder, following in Vanna’s footsteps. They’re always together now. I suppose it makes sense.

Then Reign reenters, her expression tight as she downs her wine and begins to dance with James. I can’t take my eyes off her. Finally, I spin Cora away and step back. I’m done pretending.

I stride toward Reign, the room blurring into a haze of purple. She’s the only thing in focus. I cut in and begin to dance with her. I feel her anger, her pain, her frustration—her emotions press against me as if they were my own. And I hate that I am the one that caused them.

Our bodies dip, spin, and slide around the dance floor with the intensity of soldiers locked in a war. The floor is our battlefield, with each movement being a strike, a counterattack, and hesitation. There is passion and anger… and a fragile truce in our steps—both of us feeling vulnerable yet submitting to each other. Each movement fills us with desire, desperation, and need. It builds so much tension that I feel like l can reach out and grasp it.

She is everything I shouldn’t want, and yet she’s the only thing I need. She is the balance I crave. The light in my darkness, the hope in my despair, the answer to my prayers. I stare at her, thanking the Mother for this little piece of the heavens while I still roam this continent. I’m confused about what I have done in my miserable existence to deserve such a precious gift.

As the song draws to a close, I spin her out one last time and dip her low. My hand slides down the curve of her throat to her chest, drawing her back into me. I can’t resist the pull. Seeing the same need in her, I lean in, ready to claim her lips; however, Elm steps in, saving us both from the repercussions—his timing impeccable.

“Stop hogging the champion,” he teases, a grin playing on his lips.

I release Reign reluctantly, handing her over to him with a slight bow. The moment is gone, and I return to James, who fixes me with a sharp, knowing look.

“Luke, are you fucking crazy? What was that?”

“I know… I know.” My voice drips with guilt, and I rake a hand through my hair.

“Good thing Elm’s got more sense than you,” James snaps.

“I can’t let her go… I think I lo?—”

“Don’t,” James interrupts, his voice low but urgent. “Too many listening ears. Don’t make this worse.” He rubs his temples in frustration. “Vanna hasn’t taken her eyes off you. She was just whispering with Raymon. Something’s brewing tonight—stay close to Reign. You know the games Vanna plays. I’ll personally watch your corridor.”

The weight of his words settles over me. This man, more a father to me than my own, offers unwavering love and loyalty once again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll make sure she stays with me. Nothing will happen.”

James nods, satisfied but still wary.

I turn my gaze back to Reign, who now sits with Kylo, Lilyana, and Elm. She laughs easily, her cheeks rosy from the wine. Every glance she steals in my direction ignites the urge to whisk her away to my room, but I resist. I want her to enjoy this night with her friends.

Tonight, I turn down every maiden who approaches me. No dance, no idle conversation—nothing compares to what I’ve already shared with Reign on that floor. After a long stretch of watching from the sidelines, I say my goodnights to James and make my way to Kylo, Lilyana, Elm, and Reign.

“Luke! Dance with me!” Lilyana exclaims, her voice too loud and eager.

“Not tonight, Lilyana.”

“Oh, please! Just a quick one…” she asks again, pleading. I should, but I want to get back to my room. I have had enough socializing for one night.

“Not tonight. I am heading to bed now. Next time.”

She pouts, giving me a sulking look as I kiss the top of her head. Then I turn to Reign. “Let me walk you back to your room.”

She hesitates for a moment, a swirl of emotions flickering across her face, but nods.

“Alright. Goodnight. I will see you all tomorrow.” She hugs each of them goodnight and follows me out of the ballroom.

We walk in silence until we reach her door. She pauses, her hand hovering over the handle.

“I am angry and upset with you…” she admits, her voice low and steady.

The words hurt, but I’m grateful she feels comfortable saying them. “I know…” I reach for her hand, but she pulls it away, her glare sharp.

“No Luke… I am really angry with you.”