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"Deep breaths, Carmen," he murmured, stepping closer, his eyes filled with concern.
My heart raced, my body tense and ready to flee. He was so close now that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, pulling me in like a moth to a flame.
"Stay back!" I shouted, grabbing a paper opener from his desk and holding it up defensively. "I don't know how much you had to do with your wife's death, but I won't let you hurt me.”
His face paled, hurt flashing through his eyes. "This again? Please," he whispered, stepping closer before stopping short when I tightened my grip on the makeshift weapon. "I didn't kill her. I only told the Canciller that she had gone to a meeting. I-I—" his voice broke off. "I was shocked when she died. I grieved her just as I did my father."
The small room seemed to close in on us, the distance between our bodies charged with an electricity that was both terrifying and exhilarating. As emotions warred within me, I knew one thing for sure: my feelings for Antonio were as undeniable as they were dangerous.
The tension in the small room crackled like embers in a dying fire, threatening to engulf us both. I watched Antonio's eyes flicker from my face to the paper opener still clutched in my hand, their light brown depths filled with concern and something else—something that mirrored the turmoil brewing inside me.
"Listen, Carmen," Antonio began, his voice barely above a whisper, as if sharing a secret meant only for our ears. "There's something else I need to tell you."
"Tell me what?" My heart thundered in my chest, uncertain of what revelation could make this day any more haunting than it already was.
"Back in Cinturón del Fuego, after the traumatic event... I helped heal you," he admitted, his gaze never leaving mine. "I finished healing you."
As the truth of his words settled over me, I felt my grip on the paper opener weaken, my anger dissipating like mist under the rising sun. The truth that had been staring me in the face ever since Magda told me about her blood bond with Santiago. There was something far more profound than mere attraction between my old mentor and me.
“Antonio..." I began, unsure of how to proceed. “The Sanguine Call?”
”Look, I know this is a lot to take in," he said, his eyes pleading for understanding. "But it was the only way to save you back then. And now I want to be there for you, Carmen, whenever you need me."
The sincerity in his voice made my heart ache, and I knew at that moment that denying our feelings for each other any longer would be like trying to hold back the tide. Slowly, I let the paper opener slip from my fingers, its metallic clatter upon hitting the floor barely registering as Antonio closed the remaining distance between us.
And then, with a passion that burned as fiercely as the blood coursing through our veins, we kissed. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us, tethered together by our shared bond and the undeniable pull of our hearts.
For a brief, stolen moment, I belonged.
The intoxicating warmth of Antonio's breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "Carmen, I promise to be a good husband. I want to marry you." The words echoed in the small space between us, his voice soft yet firm, like a lullaby woven from steel.
A shiver ran down my spine, and the scent of crushed roses filled the air, as if our emotions had taken on a tangible form. His fingers gently traced the curve of my jaw, pulling me impossibly closer until our heartbeats thudded against one another like the rolling drums of war.
"Antonio," I breathed, my chest tight with an ache that only his touch could soothe. My heart screamed its agreement, desperate to take this leap with him. But the world outside was still waiting.
"Please, Carmen," he implored, his eyes dark pools of emotion, reflecting the depth of our blood bond. "I've waited so long for someone like you. I was yours before I ever saw your face.”
As I looked into Antonio's eyes, the weight of the decision pressed down upon me, suffocating and heavy. In that moment, I felt the crushing responsibility of my choice, one that would irrevocably change not only our lives but the lives of everyone around us. It was a burden I was not sure I could bear.
“I-I—,” I began, the words catching in my throat. My eyes darted away, seeking refuge from the intensity of his gaze. And in that split second, I accidentally shook my head, even though every fiber of my being wanted to say yes.
His face fell, confusion and disappointment clouding his features before I could explain myself. But before I could utter a single syllable, footsteps echoed through the hallway, drawing nearer with each passing moment.
There was a knock on the door. “Mijo,” his mother said. "They need you."
We both froze. Antonio looked at me one last time, as if waiting for me to tell him I loved him.
There was another knock, and he gestured for me to hide.
He walked to the door and cracked it open. "I'm coming."
His mother started speaking faster than I could keep up with, and he slipped outside.
The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the echoing chamber. The sound reverberated through my bones, a cold reminder of what had happened. I pressed my palms to my cheeks, trying to hold onto the warmth of Antonio's touch, but it was already fading away like a phantom caress. My heart cried out for him, but I couldn't let pride win. There was too much at stake.
I needed to get down there. No sooner than I left the room, I found Canciller Duarte. He stood there, studying me with his keen gaze. I could feel him calculating, but I didn't know what.
"Renata," he said, at last, bringing me close to kiss both of my cheeks. "Right on time."
