Chapter Fifteen — "The Fire Beneath the Surface"
The castle walls never seemed to whisper louder than when two people were trying desperately not to see each other.
It had been days since the Erasthai revelation. Days of tense breakfasts, veiled glances, and unspoken words churning just beneath the surface. Alexander had taken to long walks around Denyrus' perimeter just to shake off the way his blood heated whenever Esterphania entered a room. But no matter how far he went, the echo of her presence lingered.
She haunted him like a fever. Yet he refused to admit. He refused to acknowledge whatever he was feeling. It just wouldn't...work.
The princess herself was unfazed—or so she acted. Sharp-tongued as ever, she addressed him only when necessary, and even then, her words dripped with dry sarcasm. It drove him mad.
That afternoon, a heavy downpour trapped everyone inside the castle. It drenched a lot of servants and some advisors who were out in the open enjoying the view under the sun. And Esterphania was no exception. The halls bustled with advisors and guards seeking dry shelter, but the corridors that led to the West Wing—the royal library—were nearly abandoned. Esterphania had snuck off to those corridors, needing silence. She didn't anticipate company. After all, her biggest weapon was her unfriendliness and mysteriousness, and she wasnt ready to give that up in exchange for uneccessary chatter. She'd rather sit in the library for a while, and wait till everything cools down outside. After all, the way her soaked clothes clung to her skin did not create a befitting look for a princess.
Alexander on the other hand was on his way to visit the royal library. He needed to investigate a formation that an elder suggested would be very suitable to battle the vampires. Ofcourse he didn't agree with that idea, thus, he needed to prove to everyone how wrong the elder is. But fate, cruel and curious, shoved them both into the same room with a broken latch on the door behind them.
Lightning cracked outside as the storm howled. And the wind shut the door closed, Alexander turning with a defeated sigh, knowing perfectly well what that meant. They were stuck
Esterphania turned sharply, looking at him with surprise written all over her face. "You again."
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trailing her soaked tunic that clung to her figure. He couldn't help it. Plus, he was honestly surprised to see her there. "What are you even doing here? You hate reading."
She narrowed her eyes. "Not as much as I hate awkward small talk. Now move."
He didn't. "There's nowhere else to go."
She shoved past him anyway, only to find the door she'd entered from had slammed shut and the wind had sealed it with enough force to break the locking mechanism. She tried it again.
"Stuck," she muttered.
"Looks like we're trapped," Alexander said, trying to sound amused—but his throat felt dry.
She whipped around. "I swear if you think this is a ploy to seduce me—"
"Don't flatter yourself, princess," he cut her off quickly, though his gaze betrayed him, flickering down her rain-slicked form before darting away.
He could feel it again—that tug inside him. That cursed connection that refused to let him breathe properly when she was near. He'd fought in wars. He'd endured bloodbaths and betrayals. But this girl, this frustratingly sharp-mouthed halfbreed, was the one thing breaking him.
"I don't want to be near you," she said, moving to the corner. Her tone was flat, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.
"Then we're in agreement," he replied, moving to the opposite side.
But the silence that followed wasn't peaceful. It was thick, coiling around them like smoke. Every breath felt weighted.
Esterphania cursed quietly under her breath. She was wet, cold, and stuck in a room with the last person she wanted near her. And yet…she didn't completely hate it.
She stole a glance his way. His jaw was clenched. His fists, tight at his sides. And his eyes—those stupid, storm-colored eyes—kept darting her way like he couldn't stop them.
"Stop looking at me," she snapped.
"I'm not," he lied.
"You are."
He didn't deny it again. "You're just…hard to ignore."
Silence again. But no of them could help but look at the other with longing eyes.
Then she said quietly, "I told you not to touch me."
"I haven't."
"Good. Keep it that way."
He chuckled darkly. "Trust me, I'm trying."
Another crash of thunder, and the lights flickered, plunging them into dimness.
"Perfect," Esterphania muttered. "Now we get to be trapped and blind."
She felt movement behind her and tensed immediately. "Don't come near me."
"I'm just trying to fix the damn lamp," he said, brushing past her. But his arm grazed hers and the contact sent a bolt of warmth through both of them.
She stepped back as if burned.
"You felt that?" he asked.
"No." she lied.
He turned toward her now, something unhinged in his gaze. "This is torture. You walk around like you don't feel it. Like none of this affects you." He stepped closer to her, as if being pulled by a magnet,"but I know you feel the same as I do, sure, not as strong. But it's there."
She looked at him, eyes gleaming. "I don't feel anything."
Another lie. And he knew it.
But he backed off. "Fine. Let's pretend."
"You're the one pretending, Alexander. Remember you started this. You wanted this. You were the one that put melody's feelings before mine. So don't try to control my life. How I feel, who I like, who I'll want to marry, is non of your business Alexander."
He looked like he might say something. His mouth parted. "Stephanie..."
"I don't want to hear it..."
He growled in frustration, as his eyes glowed a bright shade of gold. With two strides he closed the gab between them and pulled her closer, his hand secured on her lower back. Their were inches... Just inches away from each other as their breath mixed, and their chests rising up and down in deep heaves.
A heavy silence followed, and they stilled, as if each one was waiting for the other to cross the line. Their foreheads connected. And each of their eyes were glowing. His gold, and hers red. "Stephanie, I... I want to..."
Just then the door creamed, causing them to jump apart. It seemed the librarian got a guard to break down the door since he got locked outside.
The storm had died down.
Esterphania didn't look back as she walked out.
But Alexander stood in that doorway for a long while, staring at the spot where she'd stood—feeling like she'd taken something with her when she left.
Something he wasn't ready to admit he'd given.