Crimson Rose Queen

Something tickled my cheek—warm breath, scented with winter roses and something darker... spicier. I squirmed, torn between swatting it away and leaning closer.

Then the weight registered.

Why does my bed feel like it's crushing me?

My eyes flew open.

Big mistake.

A face hovered inches above mine—so unfairly beautiful it short-circuited my brain. Porcelain skin. Lips like crushed rubies. And those eyes—crimson as fresh blood, framed by lashes so pale they looked frosted. His waist-length silver hair spilled over his shoulders, brushing my collarbone.

Oh hell no.

I opened my mouth to scream.

He smirked, thumb tracing my lower lip. "Like what you see, Your Majesty?"

"Wh—what?" My voice cracked.

His grin turned predatory. "Since you're so eager, let's not delay servicing my queen any longer."

Servicing?!

I glanced down. Oh. Oh no.

Bare chest. Loosely tied robe. And me, pinned beneath him like a butterfly under glass.

"Get off!" I kicked hard.

He toppled off the bed with a satisfying thud. I yanked the satin sheets over my torn bodice (when the hell had that happened?) and brandished a pillow like a weapon.

"Touch me again, and I'll file assault charges so fast—"

"You dare strike your king?" He rose slowly, eyes glowing like embers.

"King? Pfft." I scoffed. "Nice cosplay, but I've got places to be. Like, not here."

His laugh sent shivers down my spine. "Still playing the blushing virgin? The entire empire knows Eleanor Sterling's appetites." He stepped closer. "Tell me, did your lovers teach you to fight, or is this a new game?"

"I don't know what delusion you're—ah!" The sheet vanished. His arm snaked around my waist, yanking me flush against him.

"Liar," he murmured. "Your body remembers."

Part 2

I kneed him where it counted.

As he doubled over, I scrambled away. "Listen, Your Royal Creepiness, I don't care what this Eleanor chick got up to. I didn't consent!"

Something flickered in his eyes—surprise?—before his mask slid back into place.

"How quaint," he sneered. "The woman who seduced half the nobility now preaches propriety."

"Newsflash: I'm not her." I grabbed a candlestick. "Back off, or I swear—"

"Or what?" He caught my wrist effortlessly. "Run to your father? Whimper to your lovers? Face it, queen. You're mine."

His mouth crashed onto mine.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a claim—hot, brutal, laced with contempt. I bit down. Hard.

Blood bloomed.

He pulled back, wiping his lip. "Defiant today, aren't we?"

"Try that again," I panted, "and I'll take the whole damn throne."

Silence. A heartbeat.

Then he laughed—a sound like shattering ice.

"Fine. Keep your tantrum. But remember—" He turned at the door. "This palace is your cage now. And cages have no use for unruly pets."

The door slammed shut behind him, echoing like a death knell.