Chapter 468: Divine Art / New Found Fear

“You don’t have to do everything all by yourself, Soren,” she said, her voice a soft, steady anchor in the dark.

“I’m your wife. My duty isn’t just to wear a crown beside you. It is to assist you in carrying the burdens of your empire. Let me help you.”

The dam broke. Soren leaned into her touch, his arms wrapping around her waist, his hands spanning the small of her back as he pulled her closer.

He buried his face against her stomach, hiding from the world, hiding from the maps, hiding from the cold.

“I know,” he muffled against her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eris smoothed his blonde hair, her fingers tracing the line of his scalp. “I don’t want your apology, Soren.”

He pulled back just enough to look up at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you want then?”

Eris looked away, a rare touch of shyness coloring her cheeks. The Empress retreated, leaving only the woman. “Maybe… a kiss will do.”

A spark of something mischievous and dangerously alive flickered in Soren’s eyes.

The darkness retreated for a moment, replaced by a playful, hungry light. “Oh, really?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, rumbling register.

He stood up slowly, unfolding his great height until he towered over her once more.

The power dynamic shifted instantly. He grabbed her face with one firm hand, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, while his other hand secured her waist, pulling her flush against him.

He leaned down, closing the distance with agonizing slowness until their lips finally met.

The kiss wasn’t gentle.

It was a collision of two desperate souls seeking a moment of respite from a world that wanted to tear them apart.

It deepened immediately, becoming a passionate, frantic thing.

They were getting carried away, lost in the heat of each other, the papers on the desk forgotten, the trial forgotten, the doom forgotten.

Without breaking the kiss, Soren swept her up into his arms. He walked toward the massive oak desk, his steps measured and powerful.

He cleared a space with one sweep of his arm… sending a pile of tax reports fluttering to the floor like wounded birds… and sat her down on the wood.

He moved between her legs, his hands exploring the curves of her body with a renewed, desperate intensity.

…

The scene shifted, the frantic heat of the desk giving way to the quiet, heavy afterglow of the floor.

They had moved to a secluded corner of the office near the great window, where a thick, ornate rug served as their bed.

They had fashioned a makeshift nest out of discarded furs, their own clothes, and a heavy velvet curtain Soren had ripped from its rings in a moment of sheer, unbridled need.

The snow was falling outside the glass, a silent, white wall. Eris lay naked under a heavy woolen blanket, her head resting on Soren’s arm. They were both extremely flushed, their skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat despite the chill of the room.

Eris’s snow-white hair was a beautiful, chaotic mess, sticking to her face in damp, wavy spirals. Her eyes were half-open, dazed and satisfied, her breath finally slowing to a steady rhythm.

Soren didn’t sleep. He lay there admiring her, his gaze wandering over her face like she was a masterpiece of divine art… which, to him, she was.

He smiled like an idiot, a rare, genuine expression of joy that he couldn’t suppress.

He reached out with his free hand, his thumb rubbing slowly over her lower lip, feeling its softness. Their faces were so close they were breathing the same air, a closed loop of intimacy.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Then her nose. Then her lips. Again and again, he was insatiable, trying to memorize the texture of her skin.

“Stop it,” Eris murmured, feebly smacking his shoulder. “I’m trying to sleep.”

But she didn’t move away. She was already drifting, her body exhausted by the session and the fire burning within her.

Soren felt a surge of love so powerful it threatened to burst his chest.

He wanted to scream it to the empty corridors of the palace, to the frozen wastes of the empire, to the heavens themselves.

He wanted to tell her those three words… I love you… but a cold, paralyzing fear stopped him.

It was no longer the fear of her rejection. It was newfound fear.

He was terrified that if he said it, if he finally acknowledged the depth of his devotion, the universe would take it as a cue to snatch her away.

He felt like a man holding a handful of sand, terrified that any sudden movement would make it slip through his fingers.

He wanted time to stop, to freeze this moment into an eternal crystal where she was safe, and warm, and his.

But reality was never far away.

As Eris drifted into a deeper sleep, Soren reached out magically, his senses extending toward the seal within her. He felt for the core of the dragon-fire, checking the structural integrity of the magic.

His stomach dropped. The crack he had sensed weeks ago was still there. It wasn’t repairing itself like it used to.

In the past, the seal would knit back together, drawing on her vitality to heal the breaches. But now, it was simply… fraying. It was getting worse.

Eris was running on borrowed time. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow. It could be months, it could be a year, but it was definitely not for a long time. She was a fading light.

In that quiet, dark corner of the office, Soren made a silent, unbreakable vow. He looked at her sleeping face, his jaw tightening with a ferocity that bordered on madness.

I will find a way, he promised the silent room. I will find a way to make you survive, no matter what it takes. No matter who I have to kill, what laws of nature I have to break, or what price I have to pay. I will not let you go.

He just needed to find the key. He just needed to know how.

Eris, even in her half-sleep, was aware of his gaze. She could feel the intensity of it, the heavy, desperate quality of his love. She felt a flicker of fear.

She knew him. She knew that when the time came, he would try to outrun Fate itself. And she herself would get greedy; she would try to steal more time than the world was willing to give. She wanted to turn away from the weight of that expectation, but he wouldn’t let her.

His hand moved, grabbing her thigh and pulling it around his waist, claiming her even in sleep. His other hand rested on her buttocks, a possessive, grounding squeeze.

“Really?” she whispered, her eyes fluttering open. “Do you ever stop?”

“Do you want me to?” he teased, already leaning in to kiss her again. “Are you sure?”

The kiss deepened once more. Soren rolled on top of her without breaking the contact, his weight a heavy, comforting presence between her thighs.

Eris wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down, her legs locking behind his back.

She felt the heavy heat of him as he slipped inside her again, a slow, deliberate entry that felt less like sex and more like a desperate attempt to become one person, to share a single life so she couldn’t leave him behind.

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