(Aeris’s POV)

I burst into my chamber, slamming the door shut behind me as if I had just escaped some terrifying beast. My heart was racing, my legs were shaking, and my face was burning hotter than dragon fire.

I dived onto my bed, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it tightly as I rolled back and forth. "What the hell just happened?!" I groaned into the fabric, kicking my legs in frustration.

One moment, I was playing with the kids, feeling a rare moment of peace, and the next—Zephirion. That stupid, smug, stupid lizard had to ruin everything!

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memory hit me like a tidal wave.

I had slipped. He had caught me.

His arms—strong, steady—wrapped around my waist, keeping me from falling.

Our faces were so close.

So close that I could see the sharpness of his crimson eyes, the way they darkened with something unreadable. So close that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.

So close that—

I shot up, hugging the pillow against my chest as if it could shield me from my own thoughts.

"Did we almost… kiss?"

My face burned as the thought settled in.

What if we had kissed?

Would it have been soft and slow, hesitant, like a quiet confession?

Or would it have been something else—deep, possessive, full of fire, like the way he looked at me sometimes, like he was waiting for something?

Or… would it have been filled with love?

I gasped, shaking my head violently. "What the hell am I thinking?!"

I grabbed the pillow and smacked my own head with it, trying to knock some sense into myself.

Love? With him? Impossible.

He was Zephirion. A dragon. An emperor. Someone feared across the world.

And I—I was just a human.

Just a fragile, insignificant human who had no place in his world.

Of course, he would eventually lose interest in me. I was just something new, a passing amusement.

I should be happy about that. I should be relieved.

But why did the thought of him losing interest… feel so disappointing?

I bit my lip, gripping the pillow tighter as a strange, heavy feeling settled in my chest.

I didn’t understand.

And that terrified me more than anything.

Then another thought crept into my mind, making my stomach twist.

Why is he marrying me?

When we first met, I was nothing but a sacrifice to him. A mere offering from terrified villagers.

But instead of killing me, he took me. Instead of tossing me aside, he kept me.

And now, he was marrying me?

It made no sense.

Unless—

Unless it had nothing to do with me.

I felt my fingers tighten around the fabric of my dress.

He didn't love me.

He couldn’t love me.

No, what he loved—if he loved anything—was the person who once owned this body.

Not me.

Never me.

Of course, that was the truth. It had to be.

I let out a bitter chuckle, forcing a smile.

Yes, I was nothing more than an illusion to him. A shadow of someone else.

And yet…

Why did that realization hurt so much?

(Zephirion’s POV)

I leaned against the stone balcony of my chamber, staring into the dark horizon, but my thoughts were elsewhere—back in that fleeting moment when I had caught her.

Aeris.

She had slipped, and without thinking, I had reached for her. My hands found her waist, pulling her against me before she could fall.

For the first time, she was in my arms.

So close.

Too close.

I could see the startled wideness in her eyes, the way her breath hitched. She was looking at me—not in fear, not in defiance, but in something else. Something I couldn’t quite grasp.

And for a moment—just a single, cursed moment—I had wanted to close the distance.

What would it have been like, to taste her lips?

Would it have been soft, hesitant? Would she have melted into me, let herself be claimed?

Or would she have fought it, resisted even as her body betrayed her?

Would she have let me?

I clenched my jaw, shutting my eyes tightly. What the hell am I thinking?

She is just a human.

A temporary presence in my world.

And yet…

I had found myself smiling like a fool as she stormed away, her face red, her hands clutching her dress.

Aeris.

The little spitfire who never hesitated to curse at me, to defy me, to act as if she wasn’t standing before a being who could crush her in an instant.

She was foolish. Stubborn. Infuriating.

And I—

I was losing my mind.

I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over my face.

Why am I marrying her?

Because I need an heir. Because she is the only one worthy. Because this is all a means to an end.

It is not because of her.

It is not because I want to keep her.

It is not because she makes me forget the weight of a crown.

It is not because when she looks at me, truly looks at me, I feel something I should not feel.

It is not.

It cannot be.

And yet…

Then why?

Why do I find myself drawn to her in ways I cannot explain?

Why does her laughter echo in my mind longer than it should?

Why do I search for her in a crowded hall, as if my eyes need to find her first?

Why does her defiance amuse me rather than infuriate me?

Why do I remember the way her body fit against mine, the way she looked up at me, breathless and unsure?

Why did I hesitate?

Why didn’t I just pull away—why did I want to see more?

And more than anything…

Why does it hurt when I remind myself that she is not her?

Because no matter what, I cannot forget one thing—

She is not her.

No matter how much I want to, she will never be her.

And yet…

Why does that truth feel like a damn curse?

Why does it feel like I am the one who is trapped?

To be continued