CHAINED TO HIS LOVE

chapter 18: jealously

The morning sun filtered through the soft white curtains of Emma’s room in the castle, painting golden lines across her face. She stirred, the memory of Andre’s warm embrace still lingering in her thoughts from the night before. The way his lips had hovered just above hers… the way his hand brushed against her waist... it made her heart flutter and her stomach twist in a strange, giddy way.

Downstairs, breakfast was already being served. The large dining hall buzzed gently with conversation. Selina and Kalem were in a friendly argument about sword-fighting techniques. Mira was teaching Bella how to pronounce some demon-language phrases, giggling each time she failed adorably. Jax and Kade exchanged teasing jabs like old brothers.

Emma entered wearing a soft lavender dress from the castle wardrobe, her hair loosely tied. Andre was already seated at the head of the table, his gaze snapping to her like she was the only light in the room. The way his eyes devoured her, it was like no one else existed.

“Sleep well?” he asked softly as she took the seat beside him.

She nodded, cheeks flushed. “I did… thanks to you.”

But before Andre could reply, the air in the room changed. The doors opened dramatically, and a tall, breathtaking woman stepped in. Her long, crimson dress clung to her curves, and her dark curls cascaded like a waterfall. Her green eyes locked onto Andre’s, and a mischievous smirk played on her lips.

“Hello, Andre,” she purred. “Miss me?”

Everyone went silent.

Emma turned to Andre, heart pounding.

Andre stood slowly, tension in every muscle. “Zafira.”

Zafira... the name alone sounded dangerous.

Selina blinked. “She’s back?”

Zafira’s eyes slid to Emma like a cat eyeing a mouse. “And who’s this little human sitting so close to you?”

Emma straightened. “I’m Emma.”

Zafira smiled sweetly, then turned to Andre. “You’ve replaced me with this?”

Emma’s heart clenched, but Andre’s hand slid over hers under the table, firm and reassuring.

“She’s not a replacement,” he said coolly. “She’s everything you never were.”

The room practically held its breath.

Zafira’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes darkened. “We’ll see about that.”

Emma swallowed hard, sensing the tension, the history between them. And maybe… the danger.

After breakfast, the tension still clung to Emma’s skin like a second dress. She found herself wandering the castle halls alone, her mind spinning with questions. Who exactly was Zafira to Andre? Why had she returned now?

The garden seemed like the only place to breathe. Roses bloomed with unnatural beauty—deep purple, black, and silver petals that shimmered in the sun. Emma walked between the bushes, fingertips grazing the velvet leaves.

“Do you like it here?” Andre’s voice called from behind her.

She turned. He was leaning against the archway, arms folded, eyes softer than usual.

“It’s… beautiful,” she admitted. “But I’m not sure I belong.”

He walked toward her, closing the distance slowly. “You do. This world is more yours than you know.”

Emma tilted her head. “Andre… who is she? Zafira.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “A mistake. A powerful one. We had history—long before I ever met you. But it ended. She left when I refused to give her what she wanted. Power, not love.”

Emma blinked. “And now she’s back.”

“Yes.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing her cheek. “But that doesn’t matter. You’re the one I want.”

Before she could answer, a voice cut through the garden.

“Interesting,” Zafira said, emerging in a flowing silver gown that sparkled like moonlight. “You never brought me here, Andre. Not even once.”

Andre’s jaw tightened. Emma stepped back slightly.

Zafira’s eyes flicked between them, then she smiled—genuinely, almost playfully. “Don’t look so tense. I’m not here to cause trouble. If he’s truly yours,” she looked at Emma with a tilt of her head, “then I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Emma held her ground. “We will.”

Zafira laughed lightly, almost impressed. “I like you, little human. You’ve got some fire.”

Andre stood between them now, his hands out slightly as if unsure what would happen next. But there was no attack—only curiosity and challenge in Zafira’s gaze.

“I’m staying in the castle for now,” she said. “I won’t interfere… but I won’t back down, either.”

With a wink at Andre and a look of amusement at Emma, Zafira turned and walked away, hips swaying like she owned the world.

Emma exhaled slowly. “She’s not going to stop, is she?”

Andre smirked, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Then don’t give her the chance.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that burned away doubt and replaced it with something deeper—something real.

The castle was buzzing with excitement, preparations for the grand event that was to take place that very evening. The air was thick with anticipation, and servants rushed about, placing candles along the grand staircase, adjusting the crystal chandeliers, and laying out the finest fabrics. It was to be a ball—a celebration, but Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just for fun. There was something deeper in the air, something she couldn’t quite grasp.

“You look stunning,” Andre said, his voice a low hum as he stepped into the room where Emma was preparing for the event. She stood in front of a large mirror, the soft, flowing gown he’d chosen for her clinging to her curves like liquid silver. It shimmered under the light, a perfect fit for her.

She smiled nervously at him, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “Do you think they’ll all stare at me?”

Andre’s eyes glinted with something possessive, something undeniably intense. “Let them stare. They’ll envy you, and no one will dare touch what belongs to me.”

The words lingered in the air as Emma’s heart skipped a beat. He was always so confident, so sure of what he wanted. She hadn’t fully realized until now just how much Andre was entwined with this world of demons—this world that felt so foreign to her.

But there was no time to dwell on that, not with the ball starting soon.

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The grand ballroom was even more breathtaking than Emma had imagined. Tall pillars stretched toward the vaulted ceiling, and velvet curtains framed massive windows that let in the light of the evening stars. The floor was polished to a mirror-like shine, and a large crystal chandelier hung above, casting shimmering light across the room. But it wasn’t the beauty of the place that captured her attention—it was the people.

Demons. Everywhere. Some had the appearance of ordinary humans, while others bore features that were anything but normal—glowing eyes, horns that curled in elegant arcs, and sharp, inhuman features. Emma had never seen so many supernatural beings in one place. They were all elegantly dressed, radiating power and an intoxicating allure.

Zafira entered the ballroom, her entrance impossible to miss. Her gown sparkled under the chandeliers, and her presence seemed to command the attention of every single person in the room. Emma felt a pang of jealousy hit her chest, but she quickly dismissed it, refusing to give in to the feeling.

“Shall we?” Andre’s voice was soft in her ear, pulling her attention back to him. He offered her his arm, his expression dark, protective.

Emma nodded, taking his arm, though her eyes briefly flicked to Zafira, who was already gliding through the crowd, her gaze locked on Andre. The tension between them was palpable.

As the music began, Andre led Emma to the center of the floor, and the guests gathered around them, all eyes on the couple. Emma could feel the weight of their gazes, but it wasn’t until a tall, imposing demon approached them that her pulse quickened.

“Care to dance, Emma?” The demon’s voice was deep, smooth, and full of power. His dark eyes studied her intently, and he bowed low in respect.

Emma hesitated. Andre’s grip on her waist tightened, and she could feel his body stiffen beside her.

“Don’t,” Andre warned quietly, his voice a soft growl.

But Emma, curious and unwilling to let Andre dictate everything for her, looked up at him, her lips curving into a playful smile. “I think I’d like to,” she said to the demon, ignoring the tension in Andre’s eyes.

The demon grinned, and they moved to the dance floor, the music shifting to a slow, sensual rhythm. Emma’s heart raced as she felt his strong hands on her waist, pulling her closer. The scent of him—a mix of earth and fire—surrounded her, intoxicating.

Across the room, Andre’s eyes burned with possessiveness, his jaw clenched as he watched the demon twirl Emma around the floor. His body was a coil of tension, the jealousy radiating off him like an electric current.

Zafira, who had been watching from the sidelines, smirked as she sipped her drink. “I didn’t realize you were so… possessive, Andre,” she mused, her voice laced with amusement. “I’m enjoying this little game.”

Andre didn’t answer her. His eyes never left Emma, his gaze darkening with every moment she spent with the other demon.

Emma, however, was oblivious to the effect she had on both of them. Lost in the dance, she allowed herself to relax, to enjoy the attention, the feel of the demon’s hands on her. But even as the music swirled around her, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling of being watched, of being the center of something much bigger than herself.

As the song ended, the demon gave her a respectful nod, his grin still lingering. “You’re a captivating dancer, Emma. Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

She nodded, smiling politely, but as soon as he turned away, her eyes immediately sought Andre. She could see the possessive heat in his gaze, and it made her heart flutter. She quickly made her way back to him, slipping her hand into his as the crowd parted to make way for her.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Andre’s voice was low and controlled, but she could sense the undercurrent of jealousy beneath his calm demeanor.

“I did,” Emma admitted, her smile teasing. “But I think I’ll stick with you from now on.”

Andre’s lips twitched into a small smile, his tension easing slightly as he pulled her close. “I’ll never let anyone else have you, Emma.”

But Zafira wasn’t finished. She moved closer, her eyes flicking between Emma and Andre, a glint of mischief in her gaze.

“You think you’ve won, Andre?” she asked sweetly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just getting started.