43: A GAME OF HELL
**CELESTE**
The scent found me again.
It was faint at first, like the whisper of jasmine on a summer breeze, but there was something unnatural about it—something that curled around the edges of my senses and tugged. I had been preparing to rest, a brief nap to escape the pounding in my skull, but the moment that scent crept beneath my door, I was on my feet before I could reason why. I didn’t question it.
I followed it.
Through the long marble corridors of the palace, barefoot and silent, as though I were sleepwalking. Each step felt both heavy and light, like I existed on the cusp of a dream. The scent twisted and pulled me forward, beckoning me around corners and down staircases I didn’t remember choosing.
Then I heard them.
Voices. Male.
Muffled, distorted, like they echoed through water. I slowed my pace, straining to hear, but the scent had me in its grip, and I couldn’t pause long enough to decipher words. I pressed on, drawn by something I didn’t understand.
But something shifted behind me.
Footsteps. Light, deliberate.
A voice—faint, almost unsure—said my name. “Celeste…”
I ignored it.
The trance held me tightly now. My skin tingled. My pulse slowed. The scent had grown sweeter, sharper, intoxicating.
“Celeste.”
More urgent now.
Still, I didn’t stop.
Not until a hand gripped mine, firm and unyielding, yanking me back with a force that cracked through the haze in my mind.
My body jolted, breath catching in my throat as I stumbled backward, colliding into a hard chest. My vision spun for a moment, my head reeling as though I’d just woken from a too-deep sleep.
“What—” I gasped, pulling away as I turned. “What is going on?”
I blinked, and reality crashed into me.
The polished floors. The dim golden sconces. The etched seal on the wall behind him.
I was in the palace. No—deeper in the palace. Near the west wing.
And standing before me, his eyes burning with fury, was Elijah.
Of course.
“You were eavesdropping,” he accused, his tone a low, restrained snarl.
I blinked again, trying to shake the fog that clung to me. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” he snapped, taking a step closer. “You were lurking. Outside a very private conversation between me and Phillip.”
“I wasn’t—” I started, but my voice faltered. “I wasn’t trying to listen to anything. I don’t even know how I got here.”
He laughed—cold and biting. “Convenient.”
I stared at him, stunned. “You think I wanted to hear your voice? You flatter yourself.”
His eyes narrowed to slits, the veins in his neck tightening. “Then explain to me what you were doing, sneaking around like a shadow?”
“I was following a scent,” I snapped, recovering my edge. “Something pulled me here. I didn’t even realize where I was going.”
“Of course. A scent,” he said mockingly, folding his arms. “You always have the most creative lies, Celeste.”
My blood boiled. “Why would I lie about this? Do you think I care about your secrets?”
“Yes,” he said sharply, “because every time you’re near, things unravel.”
I sucked in a breath, but before I could retort, his voice dropped into something darker.
“Enough. I’m done dancing around this.” His eyes pinned me in place. “Break the curse. Now. Rid us of this torment and let me be free of you.”
I stared at him, stunned. The nerve.
“You want a favor from me?” I asked, incredulous. “You haven’t done a single thing to deserve it.”
His jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grind. “What have you done to deserve to walk around here like you’re untouchable?”
I took a step closer, the fury pulsing behind my eyes. “I didn’t ask for this curse. I didn’t tie us together. That was your side of the story. Your bloodline. And now you want me to clean up your mess because it’s inconvenient for you?”
He didn’t flinch, didn’t move. “You’re not a victim, Celeste. You like the power it gives you. The control.”
“Oh, please,” I hissed. “If I had control, you’d be gagged and chained in a cave somewhere, far from my ears.”
His expression turned coldly amused. “I’d almost enjoy that. At least then I wouldn’t have to listen to you speak.”
I rolled my eyes and turned, about to walk away, when his voice stopped me mid-step.
“Fine,” he said, voice curling with malice. “You won’t break the curse willingly? Then I’ll make your life so intolerable, you’ll beg to be rid of me.”
I turned slowly, dread crawling up my spine. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said, stepping forward until we were nose to nose, “as of tomorrow, you’re my personal assistant.”
My breath hitched. “You’re joking.”
“From sunrise to dusk,” he continued, enjoying the horror on my face, “you will shadow me. You will carry out every order I give. You will handle my meetings, read my correspondence, organize my entire schedule, and stand by me through every tedious, miserable hour.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, but I would,” he said silkily. “And I will. Consider it a punishment. Or a lesson. You think you can dance around the consequences of this curse? Let’s see how you manage when you’re chained to me day in and day out.”
I opened my mouth, speechless.
He smirked. “Oh, and Celeste—don’t think of slacking. I will make every second of your existence a living hell.”
He turned on his heel and walked off without another word, his coat trailing behind him like a shadow.
I stood there, stunned and boiling.
What in the gods’ names had just happened?
One moment I was preparing to nap, and now I’d been thrust into some twisted punishment by a man who hated me more than death itself. How dare he assume I would just bow to his will? How dare he think he could bully me into submission?
I wasn’t some weak-willed creature he could bend.
And yet, even as I stood there, fists clenched and fury pulsing, a part of me—deep, low, unwelcome—twisted in anticipation. Not desire. No. Something more dangerous.
A challenge.
A threat.
A game.
I hated him.
And tomorrow, I’d hate him even more.
But I would survive this.
And when the time came, I’d break this curse not for him—but to watch the look on his face when I finally walked away.
Let him try to torment me.
Let him think I’d break.
He’d soon learn—I don’t shatter.
I explode.