Chapter 62
The war was over, but the empire trembled.
The council chamber was thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken words, of fear disguised as formality. The rebellion had been crushed, Draxis's body left to rot, and yet the battle had only shifted.
It was no longer a fight of blades and steel. Now, it was a war of whispers, of politics, of veiled threats.
Tharx stood at the head of the war chamber, his golden eyes surveying the nobles gathered before him. His voice was calm. Absolute. Unyielding.
"Aeliana will be my queen."
The words rang out, sharp and final.
Silence followed. Heavy. Suffocating.
Then, all at once-uproar.
Nobles shot up from their seats, outraged murmurs turning into a flood of protests.
"This is madness!" Lord Varron barked, his deep voice echoing across the chamber. "You cannot-"
"I can. And I will." Tharx's voice was ice.
Lady Veraxia, still nursing a wound from the failed rebellion, narrowed her eyes. "She is human. An outsider. She cannot sit on the throne."
The room fractured into arguments, voices raised, the weight of their discontent spilling over like a dam breaking.
Aeliana stood at Tharx's side, silent. The declaration had left her shocked, breathless, unprepared. She had fought beside him, had endured wars and near-death, but this? She had never imagined this.
Her as queen.
She barely registered Lord Kaelrith stepping forward. He had always been one of Tharx's most pragmatic advisors-loyal, but careful.
He exhaled sharply. "Your Majesty, this decision-"
"Is final." Tharx did not raise his voice, and yet it carried over all others.
Kaelrith hesitated, then lowered his head slightly. "If you go through with this, you will face opposition within the court. More than that-you will invite war within your own walls."
Aeliana felt something dark coil in her stomach.
Tharx's expression did not shift. "Then let them come."
The words sealed their fate.
Later that night, in his private chambers, Aeliana confronted him.
The moment the doors closed behind her, she turned on him, her voice tight, unsteady.
"Why?"
Tharx unfastened his vambrace, setting it down with deliberate slowness. "Why what?"
She let out a sharp breath. "You know what. Why are you doing this?"
His golden eyes flicked up to her. "Because it is what I want."
Aeliana shook her head, frustration lacing her tone. "This isn't just about what you want. You know what the court is planning-they will not let this stand."
His expression did not shift. "Let them try."
She took a step closer, hands clenching at her sides. "I don't need protection, Tharx. I don't need-"
His patience snapped.
In one swift motion, he caught her wrist, pulling her against him.
A sharp gasp left her lips, but she didn't resist, didn't pull away. His grip was firm, not painful-but possessive. Claiming.
"This is not about protection." His voice was low, rough. "This is about you. About me. About the fact that I will not let this empire, these vultures, dictate what is mine."
Aeliana's pulse roared in her ears.
His gaze burned into her, demanding, consuming.
She swallowed hard, the space between them too charged, too dangerous. "I never asked to be yours."
Tharx's grip tightened slightly. "Liar."
She stiffened.
His voice dropped even lower. "You have always been mine."
The words ignited something inside her.
Their fight crashed into something else.
A pull neither of them had the strength to deny.
He didn't give her time to think.
His lips crashed into hers, hard, demanding, fierce.
Aeliana let out a small, sharp sound, her body pressing against his instinctively, her hands moving to his chest. She should stop this. She should think-
But she didn't want to think.
She wanted him.
The kiss deepened. Rough, desperate, like a storm breaking.
Tharx moved with lethal precision, his hands sliding to her hips, fingers digging into her skin. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, walking her backward until her back hit the wall.
She let out a soft curse against his lips. He swallowed it, devoured it.
Her hands fisted into his tunic, pulling him closer.
The heat between them was unbearable.
There was no softness in this.
No hesitation.
It was two warriors clashing in the only way they hadn't before.
Aeliana's breath hitched as Tharx's hands roamed, sliding under her tunic, his fingers rough, demanding.
"Tell me to stop," he growled against her mouth.
She didn't.
Instead, she tore his tunic over his head.
His eyes darkened.
"Aeliana"
Her name was a promise, a warning.
And then-there was no turning back.
Tharx stood before her, his golden eyes burning with something dark, something unstoppable. The space between them crackled with tension, with a pull so fierce it felt like gravity itself had shifted.
Her breath was unsteady, heart hammering, but she refused to be the first to move.
He always controlled everything. Always dictated the battlefield, the court, the war.
But this? This would not belong to him alone.
"Say it," she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.
Tharx's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides. As if he were holding himself back.
"Say what?" His voice was rough, hoarse.
"That you want me."
The moment the words left her lips, he moved.
Faster than she could react, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist, yanking her against him. Her breath left her in a sharp gasp, her body crashing against the hard planes of his chest.
His free hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze.
She had never seen him like this before.
Not in battle. Not even in war.
There was something reckless in his eyes now, something dangerous.
"I have wanted you," he murmured, his breath hot against her lips, "since the moment you defied me."
The words shattered something inside her.
She barely had time to think before his mouth crashed against hers.
It wasn't soft. It was war.
His lips were fierce, demanding, claiming her with every stroke of his tongue, every devastating press of his body against hers.
Aeliana didn't fight him.
She matched him.
Her hands tore at his tunic, desperate to feel him, the heat of his skin, the strength of the man who had fought through blood and fire for her.
Tharx growled against her lips, a deep, guttural sound of possession that sent a dark thrill through her.
Then, without warning, he lifted her.
A sharp gasp tore from her throat as he slammed her against the nearest wall, his body caging her in, his grip unyielding.
She barely had a second to breathe before his mouth was on her neck, his teeth scraping against sensitive skin.
"You are mine," he murmured, the words edged with need, with fury, with something undeniable.
Aeliana shuddered.
Not in fear.
In complete, reckless surrender.
She yanked at his belt, her fingers desperate, needing more, needing him.
Tharx snarled at the touch, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head.
His strength overwhelmed her, consumed her, but she didn't want escape.
She wanted all of him.
Now.
"Beg me," he growled against her throat, his teeth grazing along her pulse.
Aeliana smirked.
"Make me."
Something in him snapped.
Tharx crushed his lips against hers again, his hands tearing at her tunic, fabric giving way under the sheer force of his hunger.
She gasped as the cold air hit her skin, but his body was already there, heat radiating from him, from the sheer need coiled in every muscle of his body.
She reached for him again-this time, he let her.
Her fingers ran along the hard ridges of his chest, his skin hot under her touch, marked by battle scars she wanted to map with her lips.
Tharx let out a sharp breath as she dragged her nails down his back, pulling him closer, pressing against him in every possible way.
His control was fraying.
She felt it.
And she wanted to break it completely.
"Tharx," she whispered against his lips, not a plea-an order.
He obeyed.
And then there was no more hesitation.
No more restraint.
Only the fire they had been trying to deny for far too long.
And when he finally took her, it wasn't gentle.
It was a battle.
A clash of breath and heat, dominance and surrender, a war that neither of them wanted to win.
And as their bodies moved together, as his name fell from her lips like a sacred vow, Aeliana knew-
She had never belonged to anyone.
Until now.
Hours later, tangled in the sheets, Aeliana traced a finger along his bare chest.
The battle between them had ended, but its aftermath still hummed in the air.
Her body ached in the best way.
Tharx lay beside her, half propped on one elbow, his golden eyes watching her.
The weight of the night-of his declaration, of what they had just done-settled between them.
She swallowed. "What now?"
Tharx reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
His voice was absolute.
"Now, I make you my queen."
Aeliana's breath caught.
She searched his face, expecting hesitation. Doubt.
But there was none.
Only certainty. Unshakable.
Because this was not a question.
This was a war he had already won.
Tharx did not sleep that night.
Aeliana lay beside him, the golden sheets draped over her bare skin, her breath slow, peaceful in sleep.
He watched her, his mind already on what came next.
The court would move. The assassins would come.
But it didn't matter.
Because now, Aeliana was his.
And he would burn the world before he let anyone take her from him.