The castle did not sleep.
It merely watched.
Ruria had learned this quickly. Even with the warmth she had brought into its halls, even with the softened lights and living tapestries, the castle remained a monument to Vaelor's will. It listened. It remembered. It endured.
And now, it hosted a demon princess.
Selindra wasted no time making herself visible.
She appeared at breakfast unannounced, seating herself beside Vaelor as though the place had always been hers. Her wings folded neatly behind her, tail curling lazily around the chair leg. She leaned close, far too close, resting her chin on her palm as she studied him.
"You sleep little," Selindra observed lightly. "I sensed your presence long after midnight."
Vaelor sipped his drink, unbothered. "You sense too much."
She laughed softly. "And yet you do not deny it."
Ruria watched from across the table, jaw tight, fingers clenched around her cup. Kaelis noticed, of course. She always did.
"She's provoking you," Kaelis murmured under her breath.
"I know," Ruria replied, equally quiet. "And he's allowing it."
Vaelor's crimson eyes flicked briefly toward Ruria. Not long enough to be obvious. Long enough to be intentional.
Selindra followed his gaze and smiled.
"Oh?" she said sweetly. "Is she the human you chose?"
Ruria stiffened.
Vaelor set his cup down slowly. "Chose is an inaccurate word."
Selindra's smile widened. "Then what is she?"
The silence stretched.
Ruria met Vaelor's eyes directly, daring him to answer.
He did not look away.
"She is mine," he said calmly.
Not wife. Not consort. Not subject.
Mine.
The word sent a strange heat through Ruria's chest. Possessive. Dangerous. Intimate in a way titles were not.
Selindra blinked once. Then laughed.
"How vague," she said. "I like it."
Ruria did not.
Selindra was relentless.
She trained in the courtyard, deliberately choosing times when Vaelor observed. She laughed loudly, touched his arm casually, leaned in as though familiarity were her right. She spoke of demonic traditions, of concubines and blood oaths, of alliances sealed through bodies and power.
Ruria listened.
And learned.
She did not retreat.
Instead, she adapted.
That evening, when Selindra found Vaelor seated in the lower hall, Ruria joined him without hesitation. She sat beside him, close enough that her thigh brushed his. She rested her hand on his knee as though it had always belonged there.
Vaelor did not move it away.
Selindra raised a brow. "Bold."
Ruria smiled pleasantly. "He allows it."
Vaelor glanced at her, faint amusement flickering behind his eyes.
"Indeed," he said.
Selindra studied Ruria more carefully now, reassessing.
"You are changing," the demon princess said. "Most humans grow timid around power like his."
Ruria leaned back slightly, meeting her gaze evenly. "Most demons assume humans are fragile."
Vaelor's lips curved, just barely.
That night, Ruria did not hesitate.
She entered Vaelor's chambers without knocking.
He was standing near the window, looking out over the endless black horizon, silver moonlight catching in his white hair. He turned when he sensed her, already aware of her intent.
"You are angry," he said calmly.
"Yes," Ruria replied. "And jealous. And tired of pretending otherwise."
She stepped closer.
"You enjoy this," she accused. "Letting her cling to you. Letting me react."
He regarded her thoughtfully. "Yes."
Her breath hitched. "At least you're honest."
"I am always honest," he said. "Selective. But honest."
She stopped directly in front of him. "Then be honest now. What do you want from me?"
Vaelor studied her face in silence for a long moment.
"Growth," he said finally. "Resolve. The courage to act instead of wait."
Her pulse quickened.
"And tonight?" she asked.
His eyes darkened slightly. "Tonight, you want to take something."
She swallowed. "Yes."
"Then take it," he said softly. "If you dare."
Ruria reached for him.
Not clumsily. Not desperately.
Confidently.
She pressed her lips to his again, slower this time, more deliberate. Her hands rested against his chest, feeling the steady, controlled power beneath. Vaelor did not respond immediately.
He waited.
Measured.
Then, at last, he lifted one hand, resting it lightly at the small of her back. Not pulling her closer. Simply anchoring her there.
A warning.
A permission.
A test.
When she pulled back, breathless, she whispered, "You said it was your first kiss."
"Yes."
"And you let me do it again."
"Correct."
Her lips curved. "Then you're not as detached as you pretend."
His fingers tightened briefly, just enough to make her inhale sharply.
"Careful," he murmured near her ear. "Confidence invites consequences."
She smiled anyway.
"I'm not afraid."
Vaelor's eyes glinted.
"That," he said quietly, "is what makes you dangerous."
Outside his chambers, Selindra paused.
She sensed it.
The shift.
The claim.
Her expression hardened, just slightly.
Inside, Ruria rested her forehead against Vaelor's chest, heart racing, fully aware that she had crossed another invisible line.
And Vaelor, nineteen years old and feared by the world, allowed it.
Not because he was weak.
But because he was curious to see how far she would go.