THE PRICE OF THE PETAL

Sleeping aid

Isolda's POV.

The morning light filtered through the obsidian glass in bruised hues of violet and gold, finding me still curled against Rowan's side. For the first time since my arrival in the Spires, the air didn't feel thick with the scent of impending disaster. I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his features softened in sleep, devoid of the predatory sharpness that usually defined him. He looked almost human, stripped of the crown and the cruelty, just a man who had been broken and painstakingly mended by my own hands. I felt a flicker of the old fear, the memory of him as the beast in the woods, but it was eclipsed by a strange, grounding warmth.

As the sun climbed higher, Rowan stirred, his eyes snapping open. The amber gold was still there, but the hunger was different now, tempered by a tenderness that made my breath hitch. He didn't speak, instead reaching out with a slow, deliberate motion to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips were warm, the tremor of the poison almost entirely gone, replaced by a strength that felt supportive rather than suffocating. He pulled me closer, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated against my temple. "You didn't leave," he murmured, the words sounding like a question and a plea all at once.

"I told you," I whispered, my hand sliding up to cup the side of his jaw, feeling the slight prickle of stubble. "I only stayed for the night. Now, I stay because I choose to." The admission felt like a gamble, a surrender of the walls I had spent weeks building, but as Rowan's arm tightened around me, I knew the risk was worth the reward. He leaned in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that tasted of salt and lingering sleep, a gentle reclamation that spoke of a future where we were no longer captor and captive.

The door creaked open, and Vaelen stepped into the room, his expression usually a mask of stoic suspicion. He paused, his gaze flickering between our entwined bodies and the remnants of the night's intimacy. For the first time, the bodyguard didn't reach for his sword or cast a wary glance at the exits. He simply bowed his head in a silent acknowledgment, his voice devoid of its usual edge. "The council awaits your recovery, My liege," he said, though his eyes lingered on me with a newfound respect. As Vaelen retreated, leaving us to the silence of the room, Rowan pulled the duvet higher around us, shielding us from the world and its demands for just a few moments longer.

He shifted, his weight pressing me deeper into the mattress as his gaze traveled over the curve of my shoulder. The vulnerability of the last few weeks had shifted into something more potent, a tension that wasn't born of fear but of a mutual, starving need. His hand slid down my spine, his fingers hooking into the silk of my chemise, pulling me flush against the hard planes of his chest. "You speak of choice," he murmured, his voice a low growl that vibrated through my skin. "But do you have any idea how much i still want to claim you as mine."

I felt a shiver of anticipation race down my spine, my own hands finding the lean muscles of his back. The power dynamic had shifted, yet the electricity remained, now charged with a truth we couldn't ignore. I arched my neck, offering him the pulse point that still hammered frantically. "Then claim me," I whispered, the challenge sparking a sudden, fierce light in his amber eyes. Rowan didn't hesitate, his mouth crashing onto mine with a hunger that was no longer about ownership, but about a desperate, grounding necessity.

He rolled over, pinning me beneath him with a slow, deliberate weight that left me breathless. His hands weren't bruising now; they cupped my face with a reverence that felt almost alien on a man of his nature. He looked at me as if I were a miracle he was afraid to touch, his amber eyes searching mine for any flicker of hesitation. Finding none, he dipped his head, his tongue tracing the line of my jaw before his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of my throat. A low, needy sound escaped my lips, and I felt him shudder against me, his composure fraying.

"I spent an eternity thinking I could force the world to bend to my will," Rowan murmured, his voice a raw friction against my skin. He shifted, his thigh sliding between mine, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of my shift. "But you are the only thing in this gods-forsaken realm that I cannot command." His hands slid downward, gripping my waist with a possessive intensity that made my breath catch, yet there was no edge of cruelty in it, only a starving sort of longing. He looked at me then, the amber in his eyes swirling like liquid gold, searching for the girl who had once trembled in his grip and finding instead a woman who met his gaze with an unwavering flame.

The air in the room thickened, charged with a tension so heavy it felt like a physical weight. I reached up, my fingers tangling in the dark silk of his hair, pulling him down until our foreheads rested against each other. I could feel the thrum of his heart, a frantic, powerful beat that echoed the chaos in my own chest. "I will not take you until your heart is fully mine.'' He said and that was when i realised that i almost gave my first time to him.

Suddenly a knock sounded at the door, breaking the spell of our intimacy. Vaelen stepped back into the room, his gaze lingering on our tangled limbs with an expression that was no longer suspicious but almost amused. '' The king should prepare for court now.'' He said to me.

Rowan kissed my forehead and let me go. As i stepped into the corridors, Vaelen followed me, his footsteps heavy on the marble. He walked beside me in silence for a moment, his eyes scanning the perimeter with the practiced vigilance of a man who expected an ambush at every turn. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and devoid of the coldness he usually reserved for the palace staff.

'' You have a soft heart, Isolda. It is a liability in this court, but it is the only reason the king is still breathing.'' He stopped by a stone pillar, his hand sliding to the hilt of the long blade at his hip. He looked at me, seeing the way my hands trembled slightly, the vulnerability he had watched for weeks. '' But a soft heart needs a sharp edge to protect it. You cannot rely on him to always be your shield, especially when the Lunar Court still seeks his head.''

He reached into the folds of his leather armor and produced a small, weighted knife. Its blade was obsidian, shimmering with a faint, iridescent violet hue. He didn't hand it to me; instead, he held it out, his eyes challenging me. '' Come. I will show you how to hold this. If you are to stay by his side, you must learn to kill the things that try to take him from you.''

I looked from the lethal piece of jewelry to Vaelen, the man who had once viewed me as a mere nuisance. For the first time, I didn't feel like a rabbit in a snare. I felt a surge of ambition, a desire to be something more than just a healer or a prize. I stepped toward him, my fingers closing around the cool hilt of the knife. As I felt the balance of the weapon in my palm, I realized that while Rowan had captured my heart, the Obsidian Spires would teach me how to wield a blade. Vaelen smiled, a thin, predatory line, '' Okay, teach me then.'' I agreed to something i hoped wouldn't cause me trouble.