The unholy prince

Vexaria had always prided herself on her strength, on her ability to resist, to fight. She had never been one to bend, to let anyone dictate her will. Yet, every time Xypheron came near her, every time his words brushed against her skin like a whispered promise, she felt that steady foundation crack, just a little.

It wasn't that she wanted him. No, that would be too simple. But there was something about him—something dark, magnetic—that made her feel... exposed. Vulnerable.

And that infuriated her more than anything.

Today, the air in the castle seemed heavier than usual. The thick stone walls felt oppressive, and the echo of footsteps in the halls seemed to carry a sense of foreboding. Vexaria was pacing in her cell when the door swung open, and she knew immediately that it was him.

Xypheron stepped in without a word, his presence filling the space with his usual arrogance and dark allure. His eyes locked onto hers, intense and unreadable, like he was studying her every move, searching for cracks in her armor.

"I've been thinking, Vexaria," he said, his voice low, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Maybe you're right."

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "About what?"

He stepped closer, his boots tapping softly against the stone floor. "Maybe I've been too forward. Maybe I've been trying to control you in all the wrong ways." He paused, letting the words hang in the air between them. "So, I've decided to try a different approach."

Her heart quickened, but she refused to show it. "And what approach is that?"

Xypheron's smirk deepened, a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze. "I think it's time we make a deal."

Vexaria scoffed. "A deal? With you? I'm not interested in your games, Xypheron."

He ignored her dismissal, stepping even closer until their faces were mere inches apart. "This isn't a game, Vex