The Princess’s fury crackled in the air, her magic surging like a living storm. Shadows twisted unnaturally along the stone walls, bending to her will. He saw the power gathering at her fingertips, wild and untamed, a force that could unmake the world if she lost control.
Airianna’s fist shot toward his face, a blow driven by rage and resentment, but he was faster. He caught her wrist, his grip firm, unwavering. "Do not test me, Princess," he warned, voice low, dangerous.
"Test you?" she spat, eyes ablaze. "You think you understand my burden? My power? You know nothing!"
"I know more than you want to admit," he countered, tightening his hold just enough to make her feel the strength in his fingers. "I know the prophecy. I know what you are meant to become. And I know you are afraid."
She snarled, twisting against him, but he didn’t release her. "And what do you know of fear, Kallen? You, who have only ever taken? Who have only ever controlled? You will not control me!"
The wind howled through the tower, the storm outside raging in harmony with the tempest within her. Lightning flashed, illuminating her face—flushed, furious, defiant.
His jaw tightened. "Fear? I know the fear of standing before something greater than myself. I know the fear of holding power that could shatter me. And I know the fear of being the one chosen to break you… or to save you."
He reached into his pocket, pulling free the carved phoenix and pressing it into her trembling hand. "This is what I know. Destruction and rebirth. You must learn to rise from your own ashes, or you will burn yourself alive."
Her breath hitched, fingers closing around the carving. A flicker of hesitation crossed her features, but it was swallowed by fresh anger. "You think you can save me?"
"No." His voice was softer now, almost regretful. "Only you can do that. But I can make sure you don’t destroy yourself before you have the chance."
She exhaled sharply, her rage twisting into something raw, something darker. "You are insufferable. A brute. And if the prophecy binds me to you, then perhaps it is my undoing."
He stepped closer, their bodies nearly flush. "Or your salvation."
Her nails dug into his arm, and for a single, breathless moment, he saw the war in her eyes—the fear, the longing, the fury. Then she surged forward, and he met her halfway.
The kiss was forceful, commanding, his lips crushing against hers, but she didn’t yield. She fought him, nails raking against his chest, fingers fisting in his shirt, pulling and pushing all at once. He growled into her mouth, reaching up and gripping a fistful of her long midnight hair, wrenching her head back to expose the pale column of her throat. Her pulse thundered against his grip, the frantic beat betraying her.
His lips grazed her skin, his teeth ghosting along her throat as she trembled. "You think I want to control you?" he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "I want to consume you. I want you to feel what it’s like to have no choice but to burn with me."
Her magic lashed at him, licking his skin like a storm-charged wind, but he countered with sheer force, slamming her back against the cold stone wall. His fingers made quick work of the laces of her gown, yanking at the stubborn corset. The fabric resisted, just as she did, her hands shoving at his chest, fighting against the inevitable.
"Damn this dress," he snarled, frustrated as he struggled with the intricate ties. She smirked, breathless, her fingers curling into his waistband in retaliation, making him stiffen as her palm grazed his hardened length.
His control snapped.
With a growl, he grasped the corset strings and ripped, fabric tearing as her curves spilled free. He barely gave her a moment to gasp before his hands were on her, palming her breasts, thumbs sweeping over hardened peaks. Her breath hitched, her own hands shaking as she finally freed him from his own clothing. When her fingers wrapped around him, testing, exploring, he shuddered, head falling against her shoulder.
"You’re playing with fire," he rasped, voice thick with restraint.
"Then burn me," she whispered, and that was all it took.
His hands slid beneath the remnants of her gown, gripping her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly. She locked her legs around his waist, the heat of her bare skin branding him as he pressed into her, a slow, unrelenting thrust that had her gasping, nails biting into his shoulders.
The storm outside reached a crescendo, rain hammering against the tower, thunder shaking the stones beneath them as their bodies moved in a fevered, desperate rhythm. Her magic surged with every thrust, an untamed force that clashed against his strength. He could feel it, crackling against his skin, struggling for dominance even as he held her captive against the wall.
Her body clenched around him, a gasp turning into a cry as he drove deeper, faster, the raw intensity of their collision sparking an almost unbearable friction. He buried his face against her neck, breathing in her scent, feeling her pulse racing beneath his lips.
"Kallen," she moaned, his name slipping from her lips like a plea and a curse all at once.
He drove into her harder, determined to break her, to make her feel nothing but him. The storm outside howled, wind screaming through the broken tower, mirroring the rising chaos between them. And then, as her body tightened, as his own control shattered, the tempest reached its peak. Lightning split the sky, and she cried out, her magic colliding with his very being as they unraveled together.
He held her through it, through the shuddering aftershocks, through the silence that followed the storm. His forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling, their bodies still intertwined.
"Annihilation?" he asked, voice hoarse. "Or creation?"
Airianna stared at him, her mind a whirlwind. The prophecy said he would be my ruin. That his strength would break me. But what if breaking is what I need? What if destruction is the path to rebirth?
He was her opposite, her equal. Her captor, her protector. Her greatest threat… and perhaps her only salvation.
Her fingers curled into his hair, her lips brushing against his once more. "Both."
Outside, the storm finally began to wane, but the tempest within them had only just begun.
Kallen didn’t hesitate. The delicate fabric of Airianna’s dress shredded beneath his hands, torn apart as if it had never existed. His grip was unforgiving, his strength raw and unrestrained as he pressed her forward, forcing her to brace against the cold stone.
A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he took her, his body claiming hers with a deliberate, punishing slowness. His fingers tangled in her midnight hair, yanking her head back so she could feel the heat of his breath at her ear.
“Release your power,” he commanded, his voice edged with dark authority. “Let it mingle with mine, and I will protect you forever, fairy princess.”
Electricity crackled through the air as she let go, surrendering to the storm of their magic, letting it coil around them in an intoxicating fusion of light and shadow. He groaned as it surged through him, his body tightening with the force of it, yet his control never wavered. He held her there, helpless beneath him, his grip on her hair unrelenting as he drove into her, deeper, harder.
She gasped, her fingers clawing at the stone as the overwhelming sensation blurred the line between pleasure and power. He was relentless, merciless in the way he took her, his dominance absolute.
Moments later, when their breath evened, she turned, her fingers teasing over his taut abdomen before wrapping around him once more. He half-cursed, half-growled as she stroked him back to life, her touch wicked in its intent.
With a savage motion, he spun her around, pressing her front against the stone once more. His grip tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as his teeth grazed, then bit down on the sensitive curve of her neck.
“You may have the power of the gods,” he murmured darkly against her skin, each word laced with possessive hunger. “But I control you now.”
And as the storm raged outside, it was clear—she might wield magic capable of tearing kingdoms apart, but here, in his grasp, her body belonged to him.