The Primordial Flame

Playing games.

"Oh goodness, ouch!" I cry softly, stumbling backward and letting myself sink gracefully back down onto the cushioned stone bench near the landing. "My goodness, My Lord, these slippers are new, and while they are breathtaking, they are certainly not suitable for long walks through stone corridors. I fear I cannot walk back to my room in this condition."

Carrion’s eyes light up with instant, predatory triumph. Taking the bait without a single second of hesitation, he steps forward and swoops his arms underneath my back and knees, lifting me off the bench into his chest.

"Well, Princess," Carrion chuckles heartily, his chest swelling as he carries me toward the grand stairs. "I will just have to carry my damsel in distress to her quarters to soothe her perfect, delicate feet."

I tilt my head against his fur-draped shoulder, offering him a soft, helpless look of gratitude while over his heavy shoulder, my gaze locks directly onto Bram.

Bram stands a few paces back on the landing, his large hand gripped so tight around the leather pommel of his broadsword that his arm vibrates with tension. His dark eyes burn with a lethal, suffocating irritation at seeing Carrion's hands on my waist, yet beneath the dark rage, a subtle, razor thin twitch at the corner of his jaw betrays a flicker of grudging amusement at my utter, effortless mastery of the High Lord.

I catch Bram's eye for one fleeting second, giving him a microscopic, icy glint of satisfaction before burying my face slightly closer to Carrion's neck.

"My Lord," I purr, my voice dripping with sweet, breathless fascination as Carrion hauls me up the spiral steps. "You seem to have spiked both my excitement and my curiosity, would you be willing to show me your secret hidden vaults sometime during my stay?"

Carrion lets out a low, booming laugh, completely enthralled by his own strength and my flattery.

"For a guest as precious as you, Princess Amelisse?" Carrion murmurs, looking down at me with a dangerous, hungry glint in his eye as we reach the upper corridor. "Perhaps after tomorrow night's grand feast, I might be persuaded to give you a private, exclusive tour of my most valuable collection."

"I shall count the hours until tomorrow night, My Lord," I whisper softly, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

Behind us, Bram's heavy boots strike the stone steps in silent, deadly rhythm, each step bringing us one inch closer to the ledgers, and one step closer to burning Carrion's empire to the ground.

High Lord Carrion sets me down on the plush velvet chaise lounge with agonizing care, lingering just long enough to press an eager kiss to the back of my hand before bowing out.

"Rest those delicate feet, Princess," he purrs, backing toward the polished oak doors. "I shall have my servants bring wine and fresh fruit to your chambers. Tomorrow night, the vault, and everything else, is yours."

The heavy double doors click shut behind him. Out in the hall, Carrion’s heavy boots fade down the corridor, leaving Bram standing inside the grand guest suite as my sole honor guard.

The moment the latch settles, my sweet, helpless demeanor vanishes into cold air.

I reach down, unbuckling the jeweled straps of the icy blue slippers, and kick them off with reckless disdain. They clatter against the stone hearth, bouncing uselessly into the corner. I pull my legs up onto the velvet cushions, rubbing my sore arches with a deep, frustrated sigh.

"These things truly are horrendous," I mutter under my breath, shaking out my silk skirts. "I miss my boots."

Bram turns away from the door, his massive frame casting a long, dark shadow across the sunlit chamber. He strides toward the center of the room, unbuckling his broadsword belt and setting the heavy scabbard on the dark oak table with a dull, metallic thud.

He doesn't look at my feet. He stands towering over the chaise lounge, his broad chest rising and falling in heavy, tight breaths, his jaw clenched so hard the muscle quivers beneath his skin.

"You certainly didn't seem to miss your boots when you were wrapped around his neck," Bram rumbles, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly rasp that vibrates with suppressed, agonizing fury.

He steps closer, his dark eyes burning into mine with an unscripted, raw intensity he can no longer smother under his "cold commander" mask.

"You were playing him like a fiddle, Amelisse, I see the game, I know why you did it," Bram says, his tone laced with a bitter, razor sharp edge as he leans down slightly, resting his hands on the wooden armrest beside my head. "But getting that close? Letting a pig like Carrion carry you through his own keep, whisper in your ear, and press his hands into your waist?"

He swallows hard, his knuckles turning white as he grips the carved wood.

"It took every shred of discipline I have not to drive six inches of Blackhand steel through his throat right there on the stairs," Bram growls softly, his dark eyes searching my face, desperate and furious. "Tell me you didn't actually enjoy flitting around in his arms."

I lean back against the velvet cushions, looking up at him with an unbothered, razor thin smile that cuts straight through his towering rage.

"Of course I didn’t enjoy it, Bram," I say, my voice smooth, quiet, and completely devoid of warmth. "It’s all an act. And it worked, because he’s taking us straight into his vault tomorrow night. That way you can see everything firsthand: the layout, where everything is kept, the guard rotations. I just made your job and the rest of the crew's job a whole lot simpler."

Bram doesn't pull back. He stays hovering over the chaise, his dark eyes searching my face for any flicker of vulnerability, his ragged breathing filling the quiet room.

I tilt my head, letting my gaze drift over his clenched jaw before locking back onto his eyes with an icy, dangerous curiosity.

"And why does it bother you so much?" I add softly, my words dropping like iron weights into the silence. "You made it exceptionally clear back at the safehouse that I am nothing more to you than a contract. You told Arden your feelings were purely lustful, that you had no interest in romance, commitment, or me. So why does a target holding his asset make your blood boil so hot, Commander?"

Bram flinches as if I’ve shoved a dagger under his ribs, his jaw tightening until the muscle twitches wildly. The lie he fed Arden, the cold, detached facade he built to keep his distance, collapses inward, crushing him under the weight of his own desperate jealousy.

"Because it's a lie," Bram rumbles, his voice cracking into a raw, breathless rasp that vibrates through the quiet room. He pushes off the armrest, taking a step back and running a large, gloved hand through his dark hair as he paces toward the stone hearth.

"You know it was a damn lie, Amelisse."

He stops, turning back to face me, his chest heaving under his dark doublet as the stoic commander shatters entirely.

"It bothers me because seeing his hands on you makes me want to tear this keep down brick by brick," he growls softly, his dark eyes burning with raw, unshielded agony. "It bothers me because I have to stand two paces behind you and watch you smile at a monster, knowing I'm the one who drove you into this role, and that I have no right to stop it."

I drop the slipper back onto the floor, my feet touching the cold stone as I stand up from the chaise lounge with sharp, graceful momentum.

"A lie?" I turn on him, my voice dropping into a quiet, dangerous, trembling rage that fills the quiet room. "Bram, no. You don’t get to say that."

I brush past his towering frame, refusing to let him see the sting in my eyes as I march over to the heavy iron bound trunks Carrion’s servants hauled up earlier. I pop the iron latches with a loud, echoic clack, pulling out the heavy silk and velvet gowns to hang them neatly inside the tall mahogany wardrobe before they crease.

Every time I bend down over the trunk to gather the heavy folds of fabric, the plunging neckline of my icy blue silk dress shifts, exposing the smooth pale curve of my chest and King Alaric's aquamarine stone catching the warm candlelight. Across the room, Bram’s breath hitches sharply, invisible sparks firing through his chest as his dark eyes helplessly track every move of my body, his broad frame rigid as stone as he fights the magnetic pull toward me.

"Am I a game to you, Bram?" I demand bitterly, smoothing out the velvet of an emerald dress and hanging it on the carved peg with sharp, precise snaps of my wrists. "Why are you playing with my feelings? One minute you tell me you love me, the next minute you tell Arden I'm just lust to you, that you don't care about romance or commitment, and now you try to tell me that was a lie?"

I turn to face him fully, a heavy velvet gown held against my front like armor, my eyes burning into his with raw, unshielded pain and defiance.

"Which is it, Bram?" I whisper, the regal mask slipping entirely for one fleeting, desperate breath. "Because I am risking my life inside this snake's nest, and I will not let you shatter my focus with your conflicting, cowardly lies."

Bram flinches as if each word is a physical blow, his large hands clenching into tight, trembling fists at his sides. He takes a heavy, deliberate stride toward me, closing the distance until the heat of his body radiates through the silk of my dress.

"It was never a game," Bram rumbles, his voice thick, broken, and dripping with raw, agonizing remorse as he reaches out, his large, gloved fingers hovering just a bare millimeter above my arm, desperate to touch me but terrified to cross the line. "

lied to Arden because I thought if I pushed you away, if I made myself into a cold bastard you hated, you'd stay safe. I thought it would protect you from me, from the bloody life I lead."

He swallows hard, his dark eyes searching mine with a terrifying, helpless sincerity.

"I was a coward, Amelisse. I tried to kill what I felt for you because loving you terrifies me, it makes me weak, it makes me reckless. But standing there watching Carrion touch you today? That broke me. I can't pretend anymore. I never stopped loving you. Not for a single second."