44. Spark Between Us.

44. Spark Between Us.
Esmarie Seraphine Vale

My heart slammed against my ribs as Ciro's words echoed in my head over and over again like a broken record.

My eyes flickered towards the door as if searching for a quick escape but everything in me knew that I wouldn't be able to take a single step from this table before Ciro would catch up with me.

Panic clawed at me and I began to feel like the yerterium was taking effect on me rather than Ciro who remained unbothered. I couldn't breathe.

Calm down, Esmarie. Take a deep breath.

"What?" I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. My hands fiddled with the hem of my sleeves from under the table. "I… I don't know what you mean by that."

Ciro's jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he leaned closer, elbows on the table."Don't play innocent with me, Esmarie. I've seen you with him. Whispering in corners, sneaking off to the gardens to read your stupid little books together. I told you to stay away from him, but you just won't listen. Seems like my warning wasn't enough. Do i have to gouge out his eyes to get the both of you to listen?"

I blinked, thoroughly stunned.

There was a raw edge to his voice, not anger as one would expect but something different entirely that crossed the borders between jealousy and territorialism.

He didn't know about the yerterium. This wasn't even about the plan—it was about Fenrick. The realization hit me like a slap, and for a moment, I couldn't speak.

Ciro, the unshakeable king of the Eastern Continent, was jealous? Was that why he agreed to my dinner invitation so quickly?I opened my mouth to deny it, to say Fenrick was just a friend, but the words wouldn't come.

"Cat got your tongue?" Ciro scoffed, arms crossing around his chest as he leaned back into his seat, waiting for me to speak. But I couldn’t...

I didn't know what on earth to say. He avoided me like a plague, and lied to me yet he couldn't stand the thought of me being with someone else.

I could have expected a whole lot of things from Ciro but definitely not this.

"Forget it," he muttered, standing abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "I'll handle it my way then."

My eyes widened as i shot to my feet. He was leaving, and the incense hadn't burned enough to knock him out. If he walked out now, my chance was gone.

My mouth opened to say something as he started to move, crossing half the distance to the door with just two steps, my hands trembled as I searched for something—anything—to keep him here.

"Ciro, wait! Please!" I called, my voice sharper than I meant. He paused at the door, one hand on the handle, his broad shoulders tense as he turned to face me, eyes unreadable.

I crossed the distance between us, heart pounding so fast I was sure he could hear it. I couldn’t explain that Fenrick and I had been plotting my escape, Ciro would hurt him. But, there was nothing I could do or say in this moment that could make him stay long enough for the incense to work.

Except I wanted to pull off my dress and start doing an African sword dance half naked.

There was nothing.

His eyes didn’t stray from mine as I shuffled closer, our breaths mingling together. He was so close, I could smell the leather of his vest mixing with the unique blend of cedar and agarwood.

Don't do it, Esmarie. Don't you dare do it.

When had I ever listened to logic.

Before I could think,I forced myself unto my tippy toes and grabbed his face before pressing my lips to his.

For a split second, Ciro froze, his lips deathly still under mine, probably shocked that I'd dared. My heart stuttered and i rushed to pull back, reality flooding back into my brain but as I took a step back he moved closer to counter it, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that stole my breath.

My eyes widened, caught by surprise myself as he took control instantly, dominating the kiss like it was a battle he'd already won. My arms wrapped around his shoulder as my eyelids fluttered instinctively.

His hands gripped my waist, the fabric of my dress a wall between our bare flesh but not enough to stop the heat of his skin from flooding into me as he spun me, pinning me against the door with a force that made the wood creak. His thigh pressed between mine, sending a shivers of anticipation through us both, the spark that had always been there between us flaring into an uncontrollable current. I gasped into his mouth, my hands shifting from his shoulders to the loops in his vest, pulling him closer even as my mind screamed that this was a mistake.

Ciro kissed like a man starved, like I was his last meal and he'd never get enough. His lips were fierce, desperate, moving against mine with a need that contradicted every cold word he'd ever spoken.

His hands roamed around my body, from the small of my back to the curve of my waist and for a moment, for a stupid very–Esmarie moment, I forgot everything—the plan, the yerterium, the escape.

There was only him, his taste, the way his fingers dug into my hips like he was afraid I'd vanish. A whimper escaped me as his lips captured my lower lip, tugging at the tender flesh.

But then reality crashed back like a slap to the face. I was supposed to be stalling him, not losing myself in him. I pulled away, my lips red and tingling, breath ragged. Terror flooded me—what would he do now? Would he see through my act, realize what I was planning?

I braced myself, expecting anger, suspicion, anything—but instead, Ciro's eyes fluttered as they met mine, his grip on my hips loosening. His knees buckled, and before I could react, he slumped forward, his full weight crashing into me.

I yelped, nearly stumbling to the floor under his bulk. My arms wrapped around him instinctively, struggling to hold him up as his head lolled against my shoulder. The yerterium—it had finally worked. My heart pounded as I dragged him toward the bed, my muscles straining under his weight. He was heavier than he looked, roughly over a hundred kilograms.

I stepped back, panting, and stared at him. His dark hair fanned across the pillow, his face softened in a way I'd never seen, free of the tension and guardedness he always carried. For a moment, my chest ached with longing. This could be the last time I ever saw him—the man who'd torn my world apart, lied to me, but protected me with his life. Something foolish tugged at me, whispering to stay, but I shoved it down.

I wasn't his mate.

I was Esmarie, and I was leaving.

I couldn’t help myself as I leaned over him, brushing the stray curls away from his face before pressing a soft yet lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Goodbye, Ciro".