"Stop. Looking. At. Me. That. Way," Islinda commanded, her tone firm as she fought to maintain a stern expression.
"What way?" Aldric countered, meeting her gaze with a daring challenge. "Tell me, Islinda, what way am I looking at you? I don’t recall you stipulating any clause in your ground rules that I can’t—"
"Don’t —!" Islinda interrupted, her glare sharp as she locked eyes with him. She could sense the overwhelming, primal desire emanating from him, crashing into her with relentless intensity. A deep ache pulsed within her core, sending a shiver down her spine, and she suspected her pheromones had reached him, judging by his sharp intake of breath.
The scorching intensity in his gaze made her breath catch, and she struggled to maintain composure as a sinister chuckle rumbled from Aldric’s throat. As his chilling laughter subsided, a frigid atmosphere enveloped the room, sending a shiver through her. With purposeful strides, Aldric closed the distance between them, his presence dominating the space.
Looming over her, their bodies almost touching, he lowered his head and whispered, "Keep deceiving yourself, love."
Islinda fought to suppress a shiver of pleasure, maintaining her impassive expression as they locked eyes intensely. The tension between them hung thick in the air until they were interrupted by someone’s arrival.
Stepping back from her, Aldric increased the distance between them, his gaze scrutinizing her. It was only then that he realized she hadn’t packed anything, despite his earlier instruction.
"You packed nothing?" Aldric asked, taken aback.
"I have nothing here," Islinda replied absentmindedly, her attention drifting to Aurelia and the fae servants bustling about with their loads, searching for two absent Faeries. "I don’t even know my role anymore in this place; you haven’t decided yet. So I don’t know what I should pack or if I should pack at all." She locked eyes with him, stating firmly, "A hostage has nothing, does she?"
Aldric was utterly flabbergasted, exhaling a sigh and pinching the space between his brows. He had thought having a mate would simplify things, but it seemed he had just embarked on the wildest ride of his life.
He didn’t utter a word to Islinda, instead, he commanded the nearest servant Fae, "You, come here."
The Fae’s eyes widened with apprehension as she was summoned, exchanging nervous glances with Aurelia, likely fearing the worst. Everyone knew Prince Aldric’s reputation. With a reassuring signal from Aurelia, the servant bravely stepped forward.
Aldric directed her, "Go to her room and pack up every single thing you can find in there, especially the thicker clothes." Then, turning to Islinda, he held her gaze firmly as he added, "You’re not going to freeze on my watch."
Blushing with embarrassment, Islinda realized her oversight. Blinded by anger and resentment, she hadn’t considered the unforgiving coldness of the winter court. It was moments like this that she chastised herself for her foolishness.
The delay was clearly her fault this time, and an awkward silence fell over them all as they waited. Unable to bear the weight of her guilt any longer, Islinda blurted out, "Sorry."
Aldric’s brows lifted in surprise, and he turned to Islinda with a look of wonder. Although he heard her apology, he sought confirmation that he had heard correctly. "What did you just say?" he asked.
"Nothing," Islinda retorted, her lips pressed together tightly.
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