Page 46 of Claimed In Darkness

Naira is not just a slave. She is a weakness.

A very, very dangerous one.

One my father can exploit. Maybe I can still use this to my advantage.

Orvian steps back, shaking his head. "A shame." He picks up his goblet again, swirling the wine once more, the flickering candlelight making it look like blood. "That ring would have suited you."

“Well, you should be careful. The High Council will not want you sitting on that one,” I say, mocking him.

Orvian stiffens. There it is. I see the glimpse of the coward trying to be someting else. He might just die before the sun rises for the next day.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, as if expecting me to change my mind.

So, with one last lingering glance at Naira, he turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd, the offer vanishing with him.

I exhale through my nose, slow and steady.

The moment is over.

But the consequences have just begun.

Nairavoice slices through my thoughts, quiet but edged with something unreadable. "You really are a fool."

I shift my gaze to her, fingers twitching at my side. "Watch your tongue, little fox."

She doesn’t look away. "You just threw away ultimate power. For what?"

For you.

The thought is sharp, unspoken, unbearable.

I refuse to give her the satisfaction of hearing it.

Instead, I lift the chain again, tugging her a step forward.

The movement drags her flush against me, the heat of her body seeping into mine, burning me. "Careful, pet," I murmur, voice silk and steel. "You’re starting to sound like you care."

Her breath shudders, but she masks it well.

She leans in slightly, lips nearly brushing my throat as she whispers, "You are nothing but a fool in fancy robes."

She steps away, leaving me standing alone with the implications of a choice I never should have made.

17

NAIRA

The moment we return to Zephiran estate, I move. Silent. Shadow-swift.

I run.

The masquerade’s filth still clings to my skin—the aroma of spiced, sweet wine, the press of silk, the lingering feel of his hands on my body. My ribs feel tight, breath too shallow, the meaning of what just happened pressing against me like a vice.

He chose me over power.

The thought festers.

I should not care.

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