CHAPTER 232: KISS..KISS

"Or are you going to say that God creates us?" he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet steam-filled chamber.

Aria’s gaze furrowed, her brows drawing together in sharp annoyance. Her eyes flashed, a storm contained within, as she listened to Zyren continue.

"What would you have me do? Reveal to the people that their God of light does not exist?" Zyren asked, his tone calm but layered with a heavy indifference that only deepened the ache of fury in her chest.

Her frown grew darker, her lips tightening as though each word from his mouth pressed against a nerve raw with anger.

"You don’t care!" Aria fired back, her voice low yet trembling with the sharp edge of contempt.

"Yes! Enough to fight the temple! That’s the last thing I want to do right now!" he snapped back, his tone louder this time, hard enough to echo briefly in the tiled walls before sinking into silence.

The stillness that followed between them was suffocating. Neither spoke. Aria refused to leave, her feet firmly rooted as her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm. Zyren leaned back, his expression neutral once more, his stillness deliberate, calculated.

Aria’s frown remained carved into her face, her gaze locked on him as though she could pierce his calm exterior and drag out what he kept buried. At last, she opened her mouth again, her voice sharp and unwavering.

"You don’t think them harnessing powers from vampires is a bad thing?" Her thoughts went instantly to her sister—Liora—her heart clenching in fear at the idea of discovery. If such things were ever revealed, perhaps her sister would be spared punishment. Perhaps.

"You’re mistaken!" Zyren’s voice cut back at her, colder this time, void of jest. "They will all still die, and I will kill them."

The words chilled the steam-heavy air. He wasn’t making a threat for effect. He wasn’t exaggerating. He meant every syllable.

"Just not right now, and not because of what they’re doing," he added, his voice even, merciless in its clarity.

"Simply because you want them to die?" Aria asked, her tone trembling with both defiance and disgust. She caught the faintest curve of a smile forming at the corner of Zyren’s lips. It wasn’t warmth—it was sharp amusement, the kind of smile that reminded her exactly who he was.

"No! It would probably be for something closer to treason. You think too highly of me, Aria."

He rose from the bath then, the movement so sudden that Aria’s breath caught. Her eyes widened in shock as water cascaded from his tall frame, glistening against the hard lines of his chest and shoulders. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she hurriedly looked away, her body stiffening.

"I am cold-hearted," Zyren continued, reaching for a towel and dragging it slowly across his skin, "but I really also can’t be bothered to kill without a good reason."

He dried himself with slow precision, his voice following every movement. "Indifference covers everything. It can’t just apply to one part of me."

Aria’s fists clenched. She could feel his gaze burning into her, heavy, unrelenting, and it made her skin crawl. Her throat tightened with discomfort. Without another word, she spun on her heel and strode quickly out of the bathroom, her steps sharp against the marble floor. She didn’t look back.

Her mind raged. Yeah, until you’re demanding to sleep with me! The thought burst forth, bitter and searing. Her chest heaved as her anger built, no intention of staying in that suffocating room a second longer.

But before she could leave entirely, his voice followed her, smooth and unhurried, the sound of command dressed as curiosity.

"It’s almost time for dinner. Where could you possibly be going?"

Her steps faltered. The truth was, there was nowhere. Nowhere but perhaps to check on Liora, though she still didn’t know where her sister lived in the city and the thought of heading out and coming across a Zygon even with guards scared her.

She turned, her gaze sharp, chin lifted defiantly. "I can step out for a breath of fresh air, can’t I?" Her words were delivered with deliberate firmness, her eyes fixing squarely on his. It was almost a challenge, daring him to argue.

Zyren’s lips curved faintly, his face lighting with a look that only irritated her further. He thrived on resistance. He savored her defiance like it was wine.

"I’ll come with you... something like an evening stroll," he said lightly, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Aria’s jaw clenched. She turned her gaze away, fixing it on the door, already imagining how meaningless such a stroll would be. Zyren could never be reasoned with.

The truth is he doesn’t care about anyone but himself, she thought bitterly. He doesn’t even try to hide it. He’s cold, ruthless, and does whatever he likes while pretending to make fair deals.

The thought cut her deeply because another truth sat beside it, one she despised. And yet, I created a version in my head—a smaller, gentler version—where he cared about me, even the slightest bit. And it’s hard to crush that version into dust.

Her chest tightened. She shook her head sharply, forcing the weakness away. Sex is sex! she told herself, her thoughts burning with bitter resolve. She refused to dwell on anything else, not the bond that tied them, not the way it seemed to favor him more than her.

Soon, he was dressed, black as always. The dark fabric clung to him, sharp and regal, his tall figure exuding power. Muscles shifted beneath the tailored shirt, the lines of strength carved into his body impossible to ignore. He looked every inch the king he was.

Aria stole a glance, brief and cold, before snapping her gaze away. She would not dwell on it.

"Ready," Zyren said at last, stepping up to her. He towered easily over her as he pulled the door open with a smooth, gentlemanly gesture, inviting her to step out first.

Aria moved wordlessly, her silence sharp as she brushed past him.

Together, they began their walk. Down the long stairs from Zyren’s private wing, their figures contrasted like day and night—she in pale white, he in the endless abyss of black. Their silence weighed heavy, unbroken, until Aria deliberately slowed, letting herself fall back a few steps. She wanted no illusion that she walked with him, no perception of equality.

But Zyren noticed.

His arm slid around her waist without hesitation, pulling her firmly to his side. His hand settled there, steady, unmoving, claiming.

Aria’s body stiffened. Heat rose unbidden to her cheeks as his grip held her close. She did not resist, but her glare nearly burned holes into the marble floor. Servants scattered in every direction as they passed, dropping to their knees, foreheads pressed low in reverence. Guards stood rigid, fists pressed to their chests.

Aria clenched her jaw so tightly it ached, forcing her glare to remain hidden. Zyren’s hold only tightened, his lips curving into a soft, infuriating smile.

It wasn’t until they stepped into the vast castle gardens that his voice finally broke the silence.

"I’m guessing you refused the temple’s ritual offer," he said casually, almost amused. "You’re fine with not getting any more abilities?"

Aria turned her face away, glaring at the hedges, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"How are you going to kill me then?" he asked smoothly.

Her glare whipped back to him, venomous, sharp enough to cut.

"I’m serious," he continued, the corner of his lips twitching upward. "Your healing ability is great, but even in a hundred years, and with the help of others, I can’t see how you could ever do it." He chuckled lightly, his amusement dripping into the air like poison.

"You can’t leave either... not that I’ll ever allow you," he added, his voice lower now, intimate in its certainty.

Aria’s blood boiled. She tried to quicken her steps, to stride ahead and put distance between them, but his arm clamped tighter around her waist, pulling her back until their pace slowed. Slowed, and then stopped.

Zyren turned her toward him, his grip firm. For a long moment, he did nothing. He only stared at her, his gaze unwavering, cutting through her fury, her resistance, peeling at her until her breath quickened.

Her lips parted, ready to spit the sharp words lodged in her chest—when his lips curved, and he spoke.

"Kiss me."

Aria froze.

The words rang in her ears like a command, startling her as though he’d asked her to cut off her own arm and hand it to him. Instinct took over—her body recoiled, taking a step back before she even realized she had moved.

But his grip was unyielding.

He pulled her closer, their bodies brushing, heat sparking through the fabric that separated them.

"Kiss me," Zyren repeated, his tone leaving no doubt this time. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t jesting. He was serious. Deadly serious.

Aria’s heart pounded. She met his gaze and saw it—certainty, expectation, dominance. He wanted this. He would have this. And still, she couldn’t stop the trembling thought that lingered—what comes after?

Her throat tightened. "A kiss? That’s all?" she whispered, her voice sharp as she added, "We’re in public... Zyren!" The words grated between her teeth, but her pulse betrayed her, racing violently.

He tilted his head, smirking faintly. "You speak! For a second, I thought you were mute."

Her chest tightened with fury. He was mocking her—because she had mocked him. Her glare burned, but her mind turned sharply. She would not let him win. Not here. Not now.

Without another word, she lifted her hands, her fingers sliding around his neck. She pulled him down, closing the distance, her lips pressing firmly against his.

She didn’t retreat.

Instead, she deepened the kiss, her movements deliberate, passionate. She pulled him closer, her lips moving against his with uncharacteristic fervor. She could almost feel his shock in the stillness of his body, in the way he barely responded at first.

As long as you don’t act crazy and ask for more... I can give you a kiss, she told herself fiercely.

But then his arms tightened around her.

Zyren pulled her flush against him, his body enveloping hers, and the kiss shifted. His control slipped seamlessly into place, dominance asserted, his lips pressing harder as he deepened the kiss.

Aria’s chest heaved, her heart pounding against his.