I couldn’t bring myself to say marriage or engagement outright. The word felt like tempting fate. I was dancing around any outright mention of the engagement, sparing myself blatant rejection when all I could see were those photographs of him with Danielle, her carefree smile, his hand at the small of her back.
One corner of his mouth lifted something flickering in his gaze. “I believe that’s for me to determine, not you.”
The server’s return offered a momentary reprieve as he refilled Alaric’s glass and inquired about our satisfaction before Alaric dismissed him with a courteous nod that held no warmth.
“If you don’t want to tell me about the real you, then at least tell me what you hope to gain from this, Selene,” he asked
“Is that question sincere?”
His gaze locked with mine, unwavering. “ I don’t waste breath on questions I don’t want answered.”
I answered before I could stop myself. “Freedom to walk outside without permission. To feel the sun without someone timing how long I’ve been gone.”
He tilted his head slightly. “Is thatallyou want?”
“No.” My throat tightened around the word. “My sister. I need to see her again.”
His eyes remained fixed on me, unreadable. Was he calculating the value of my confession or memorizing my weaknesses?
“If I could arrange that?” he finally asked.
“Then I’d want to hear what you expect in return.”
It was ridiculous because I had no real agency here. My father would chain me to this man like a medieval transfer of property, the golden handcuffs simply changing hands. Yet as I sat across from him in this dimly lit restaurant, I clung to the illusion of choice like a drowning woman to driftwood.
“If this goes any further, I only want three things from you. Honesty, loyalty, and to understand what it means to be my wife.”
I felt my composure slip for just a moment. “You believe I’m capable of that given who my father is?”
He smiled, bemused. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here.”
I swallowed, pulse stuttering. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
"You’re right, I have a lot to learn, that’s why when you speak to me, I want your words to be yours. Not what you think your father would approve of. Not what Dominion duty demands. Just yours."
He shifted forward in his chair, the distance between us unchanged yet somehow charged.
“What does that mean, exactly?” I asked, voice carefully modulated. “I know the basics of the Dominion, the… structure and expectations of a wife. But what does it mean to beyours?”
A slow, dark smile curved his lips. “Agree to see me again and I’ll tell you.”
I opened my mouth to agree on instinct—because what other option did I have?—but Alaric raised his hand, stopping me before the words could form.
“Don’t say yes if this isn’t what you want,” he cautioned, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “This isn’t a command. Not from me.”
The statement hung between us, impossible and confusing. I studied his face, searching for the trap. Men like him didn’t offer choices; they collected assets. And that’s all I was to my father, an asset to be traded.
“How can you be so sure you want me?” I asked, the question escaping before I could rein it back. “We’ve just met. And we both know I don’t really have a say in this. My father has already decided.”
Alaric leaned closer, the ambient light catching the flecks of gray in his blue eyes. “Your father may think he’s decided, but he doesn’t control me, and despite what you’ve been led to believe, he doesn’t control this situation either.”
He reached across the table, not quite touching my hand but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
“I’ll handle your father. I’ll handle everything else, but I need one thing from you that has to be real, that has to be yours alone to give. I need your answer. Do you want to see me again, Selene?”
His reassurances didn’t mean much to me. My damnable curiosity and the chance to get away from my father were another matter. I realized how surreal this situation was. Our entire exchange had been a carefully choreographed dance around what mattered—his actual intentions, my genuinedesires, and the reality of what awaited me regardless of my answer.
“Yes,” I said finally, the word escaping like a breath I’d been holding too long. “I would like to see you again.”
