Chapter 43
His arms around me were warm, steady, safe–something I hadn’t felt in years.
“Calm down,” Alaric murmured again, his breath brushing against my hair.
But I couldn’t
Not when everything inside me felt like it was breaking apart and rearranging itself at the same time.
I wasn’t a fool–1 knew revenge was dangerous. But it wasn’t just about making Amira pay,
It was about taking back everything she stole from me.
I pulled away slightly, just enough to look up at him. His ice–blue eyes were unreadable, but I could tell he was studying me, seeing beyond the anger and grief.
I swallowed hard. “I want her to suffer”
Something dark flickered in his gaze,
“Good,” he said simply. “But you’re going about it all wrong,”
I blinked.
Alaric leaned back slightly, his a
arms still loosely around ine, his voice low and smooth, “You think revenge is about anger. About destroying her quickly.” He tilted his head, bis smirk returning, “That’s sloppy.”
I scowled. “Sloppy?”
“You’re letting your emotions make the decisions for you.” He tapped a finger against my forehead, “If you want to truly make Amira suffer, you have to be smart.”
I took a step back, shaking off the heat from his touch. “Then teach me,”
His smirk widened. “Now you’re thinking properly.”
I crossed my arms. “Where do we start?”
Alaric’s eyes darkened with something almost amused, almost dangerous.
“You don’t break someone in one move, Liana,” His voice dipped lower, filled with experience, knowledge, something dangerous. “You peel them apart. Slowly. Bit by bit. Until there’s nothing left but the pieces you allow them to keep,”
I shivered.
Not from fear.
From the sheer power in his words.
“Amira took everything, from you?” he asked.
I nodded.
His smirk faded slightly. “Then we take everything from her”
“How?”
Alaric fified a brow. “We start with control. She thrives on attention, doesn’t she?”
I clenched my jaw. “Yes”
Then we strip her of ic”
I frowned. “But she already has a place here. Brielle is using her for political leverage. She’s trying to gain the nobles favor
“And she won’t if she becomes something else entirely Alaric leaned forward slightly, voice velvet smooth, threading into my bones.
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Chapter 43
“What’s worse than being hated, Liana?”
I hesitated.
His lips curled. “Being invisible.”
My stomach tightened.
“You want her to suffer?” he continued. “You make her believe she’s climbing higher, that she’s winning. And just when she thinks she has everything-” He snapped his fingers. “You take it all away.”
I swallowed, my throat dry.
“That’s how you do revenge properly,” Alaric murmured. “No blood. No open threats. Just a series of small, quiet punishments until there’s nothing left of what she was.”
I exhaled shakily.
He was right.
I had been thinking too small. Too fast.
I wanted justice. But I wanted her to feel it–not in one swift moment, but in every single breath she took for the rest of her life.
I stared at him. “What do I do?”
Alaric’s eyes glowed slightly under the dim candlelight.
“You start by letting her think she’s winning.”
My lips parted as realization clicked into place.
I took a deep breath.
Then I squared my shoulders.
“Hire her.”
Alaric’s brow lifted slightly. “Interesting.”
I met his gaze, my fire reigniting. “She wants to be close to power? Fine. We’ll give her a position. Let her think she’s useful.”
Alaric’s smirk turned wicked. “And then?”
I smiled.
“Then we remind her what it feels like to be nothing.”
His amusement deepened. “And what position do you suggest?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Spy of the Rebel King.”
His smirk vanished.
The air in the room shifted, the lighthearted game we’d been playing suddenly taking a darker turn.
Alaric stared at me, his features unreadable. “Why that?”
I crossed my arms, holding his gaze. “Because Amira is greedy. She wants power, attention, and influence–but she also wants to be on the winning side. The rebels are making moves, aren’t they? She’ll be watching carefully, waiting to see where the tides shift.”
Alaric’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.
I took a slow step forward. “She’s a survivor. She betrays people before they can betray her. She did it to me, she did it to Max, and if she thinks she has a way to use the rebels against us, she won’t hesitate to try.”
Alaric exhaled through his nose, a flicker of something thoughtful passing through his expression. “And you want to let her beheve she has that power?”
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Chapter 43
I nodded. “We give her just enough rope to hang herself.”
His lips twitched. “And what makes you so sure she’ll take the bait?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Because Amira has never in her life been able to resist an opportunity to play both sides.”
Alaric hummed, tapping a finger against the desk. He studied me for a long moment, as if weighing the risks, the possibilities.
Then, slowly, his lips curled.
“You’re vicious,” he murmured.
I lifted a brow. “And you’re surprised?”
His smirk remained.
“I’ll make the arrangements,” he said. “Let’s see how long before your sister tries to sell us all out.”
I smiled.
Because I already knew the answer.
Not long at all.
Silence settled between us, thick and lingering. The weight of our conversation hung in the air, wrapping around us like something alive.
And then-
I realized how close we were.
Too close.
Alaric was still leaning slightly toward me, his ice–blue gaze sharp, calculating, but beneath it… something else lurked. Something unreadable. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the scar over his brow.
I swallowed.
My pulse quickened, a traitorous thing, my body far too aware of him in this moment.
I took a step back.
Distance. I needed distance.
His gaze flickered downward, noticing the movement. A knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but he didn’t stop me. He didn’t say anything at all.
I exhaled slowly. Alone.
For a moment, I thought I’d finally have a second to breathe, to process everything that had just happened, but-
A knock at the door.
I turned just as it opened, revealing Eliza.
Her expression was as cold as ever, her sharp features unreadable, her posture stiff as she stepped inside. But there was something different about her tonight. Something tense beneath her usual indifference.
I frowned. “Eliza?
She didn’t waste time.
I know who put the poison in your room,” she said, her voice clipped.
My breath hitched.
I took a step forward “Who?”
Her gaze locked onto mine.
And then-
She spoke.
“me.”
