Page 30

This is madness

Iryen

As I watched Adrian work with his powers, something inside me twisted in a mix of awe and pride. He moved with a natural ease, even though I knew he was still coping with what he was. The power thrumming through him felt raw, untamed, much like the chaos that stirred within me.

I hated it drew me in, that his very presence seemed to unravel everything I’d carefully bound within myself, yet I couldn’t deny the attraction that I felt towards him, the sacred bond connecting us left me torn between my duties and the will of my goddess.

My mind drifted, and before I could stop it, I was back to yesterday, the moment I stood before the goddess’s sanctuary, seeking consolation as I always did after those dreams.

Memories I wish I could erase from my mind.

My parents’ murder.

I can never escape it. It haunts me, replaying in my mind with excruciating clarity.

I see the flash of blades, the spray of blood, and that face, twisted with something dark and unforgivable.

And there I am, frozen, powerless. I was their daughter, their heir .

I should’ve been able to protect them. But I stood there, useless, cowardly, too paralyzed to act.

How could I let it happen?

My inadequacy wraps itself around me like chains, heavy and unrelenting.

I relive that moment every night, the frozen grip of fear, the way my body refused to move, the helplessness that swallowed me whole.

How could I face my people, knowing I’d failed them when it mattered?

How could I even think of ruling one day when I couldn’t protect the ones I loved most?

And the council…

Goddess, don’t even get me started on them.

They didn’t believe me when I told them what happened that night.

My voice, trembling with truth and grief, they brushed aside like it held no weight.

As if my pain didn’t matter. Thalor, that smug, conniving bastard, made sure of it when he spoke on the killer’s behalf, twisting the story in ways that made my blood boil.

Saying that I might haven’t seen properly since it was dark.

He turned the council against me, weaving his lies with the same ease that bastard woven lies around my heart.

That’s the reason I loathe him so much. Thalor.

He is always lurking in the shadows, scheming and whispering just loud enough to scatter doubt about my words.

The council hung on his every breath as if he were the voice of reason.

As if they could so easily ignore the truth, just because it came from me. If he was their ruler.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. The memory of Thalor standing before the council, that arrogant gleam in his eyes as he dismissed me, still makes my stomach churn.

They sided with him, of course. They always do.

The council trusted him more than their own princess, more than the blood of the ones who had ruled before me .

How could they believe him over me?

How could they be so blind, so willing to betray everything we stood for?

I should’ve fought harder, should’ve been stronger.

But all I did was stand there, the consequence of my parent’s death and that betrayal crushing me, while Thalor smiled as though he hadn’t just ripped away the last thread of my credibility.

That’s when I knew. I was alone. Truly alone.

After that day, my fiance was gone. Disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only the scars he’d carved into my soul.

But I knew he wasn’t gone forever. He’d made a promise that night, one I’ve never been able to shake from my mind.

His voice still lingers, a chilling echo in the darkest corners of my memory.

“I’ll return for you, Iryen. You belong to me.”

The way he said it, like I was some prize to be claimed, as if I’d ever let him near me again. But I couldn’t ignore the truth in his words. He would come back. He always kept his promises, especially the ones that dripped with cruelty. I wasn’t na?ve enough to think I was safe, not from him.

So I buried myself in training. Day and night, I pushed my body to the brink, honing every skill I had, and mastering every power at my disposal.

I threw myself into combat, into the relentless rhythm of battle, hoping the pain would dull the ache of loss, of betrayal, of failure.

Each strike, each pulse of my abilities, was a silent vow: I would be ready for him.

If he ever dared to show his face again, I would make him regret it.

But no matter how much I trained, how many hours I spent perfecting my powers, there was always that gnawing voice in the back of my mind.

What if it isn’t enough?

What if, after all this time, I’m still the girl who froze when matters most? If I can’t protect anyone? What if I… fail?

I tightened my hands into a grip, feeling the familiar hum of magic pulses through me. It’s my birthright, my weapon, my shield. But no matter how strong I became, no matter how much I honed my abilities, there was one truth I couldn’t escape.

My ex-fiance would return.

The thought coiled around my mind like a venomous serpent, suffocating, intoxicating. I could still see him, the man I once loved , the man who tore my world apart with bloodstained hands and empty promises.

Would I be ready?

Goddess, help me. I had to be. Even if doubt clawed at me, even if fear whispered its ugly truths, I would silence them. Because when he comes for me again, I wouldn’t run. I wouldn’t freeze.

I’ll make him pay for what he’s done. Will make him suffer.

Carve my revenge into his very soul, make him regret every breath he stole from my family. And this time, he would learn what it meant to fear me.

I blinked, dragging myself back to the present, my focus returning to Adrian, on the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curled in frustration as the water slipped through them once more, splashing uselessly against the stone floor.

Another groan. Low, deep, filled with irritation.

Amphitrite, help me. I won’t be able to control this attraction any longer.

Heat coiled in my stomach, spreading like a slow-burning flame.

There was something delicious about his frustration, about the way his muscles flexed each time he failed, jaw tightening, teeth clenched.

He was too stubborn, too controlled, until he wasn’t.

And that was the part that made my breath hitch.

By Elysium, he was sexy when frustrated. And that sound… that sound made me feel things I wished I didn’t. My thighs pressed together, instinctive, needy .

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he grumbles out, voice rough, tinged with irritation.

I tilted my head, arms crossing over my chest as I forced myself to concentrate on anything. Not on his body. On his shirt that clung to him, damp from his failed attempts. Or on how much I wanted to—

“Like I said,” I managed, keeping my voice steady, “water is gentle. You need to be gentler .”

His gaze snapped to mine, and there it was, that damn smirk. Just a flicker at the corner of his mouth, but enough to make my stomach tighten. Smug. Infuriatingly confident, even in failure.

I knew that look. I hated that look.

It was the same one he’d given me yesterday, the one that made me feel like he was the one with the upper hand, as if he knew something I didn’t. As if he knew how much he was getting under my skin.

And worse? He wasn’t wrong.

Just like that, I was back in yesterday, trapped in the moment where everything shifted. He had seen too much.

The memory clawed its way to the surface: his breath too near, his voice laced with taunts, daring me to break. That insufferable mouth of his, curving into a smirk that made me want to tear him apart and pull him closer.

I had wanted to lash out. I should have. Instead, I felt this… pull . This sickening, intoxicating thread that I couldn’t sever, no matter how much I wanted to. No matter how much I despised it.

And now, here we were again.

His smirk still haunted me. But this time, it wasn’t just his arrogance that made my stomach twist, was the memory of how close we had come to something dangerous. It was the heat that pooled in my core with every glance. It was the fire I had refused to acknowledge, let alone name.

Stop it. He’s just a man. A stubborn, arrogant man with too much pride and too little patience.

That’s all this was. A mistake of the flesh. A trick of the bond.

But the bond didn’t give a damn about what I wanted. It tugged , relentless, like a chain wrapped around my ribs, pulling me toward him, toward something inevitable.

He stepped closer, close enough that I felt the warmth radiating from his body. The faint scent of musk pine mixed with sandalwood like fresh dawn in a forest, something uniquely him, enveloping me.

My pulse stuttered, betraying me. The air between us thickened, charged with something primal, something I should ignore.

But I didn’t move.

And neither did he.

“Gentle, huh?” his voice was low and teasing and his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. “Easy for you to say. You’ve had this power your whole life.”

The challenge in his tone sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, igniting the desire within me.

I saw the density of his gaze, the way it pinned me in place as if the rest of the world had faded away.

Every breath felt charged with unspoken words, every heartbeat a reminder of the unresolved tension hanging between us.

“Adrian, it’s not just about power,” I insisted, trying to keep my voice steady despite the raging lust inside me. “It’s about connection, feeling the water, letting it guide you. You’re fighting against it, and that’s why you keep losing control.”

He paused, his expression shifting, the teasing smirk fading just enough for me to see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.