28: MAKE ME BURN

28: MAKE ME BURN
Meridian Water

I took a deep breath as the first rays of dawn filtered through the curtains. Despite the constant heat that lingered in the Kingdom of Umbra, a chill ran down my spine. Scattered thoughts hammered at my mind, but I pushed them aside. This wasn’t the time for distractions.

A knock at the door startled me. Still half asleep, I got up and opened it. It was the prince. His presence irritated me even more because it reminded me of what we started but didn’t finish.

“You don’t look excited,” he said, his deep, raspy voice filling the silence like a veiled provocation. His black eyes locked onto mine, as if trying to decipher me.

“What do you want?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Don’t ask hard questions—you might not like the answer,” he smirked, the kind of smirk that had me wet within seconds.

“Am I being summoned?” I tried to ignore the question—and the heat rising in me.

“Yes,” he nodded. “We have a diplomatic event today.”

“Now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he replied.

“Then why are you here now?” I asked, irritation seeping into my tone. “You could’ve just sent a message.”

“It would’ve been easier, but then I wouldn’t get to see you. And I wanted to see you.” His words sent a shiver through me, even though I tried not to show it.

“Well, you’ve seen me now. Anything else?” I asked, letting my irritation show, even though my thoughts were betraying me.

“You could invite me in, and I’d tell you,” his voice dropped lower.

“You’re the authority in this castle, so with all due respect, Your Highness…” I stepped closer. “I’m going to shut the door in your face if you don’t leave.”

“You’re not big on respecting authority, are you?” His tone matched mine.

“No,” I said firmly.

“Good morning, Meridian,” he said, but that infuriating smirk was still plastered on his face.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” I replied.

He shrugged and left. His presence, though always commanding, felt strangely relaxed this time, as if he were enjoying himself—a stark contrast to the prince’s usual demeanor. It completely threw me off balance.

I needed to remember who I was. A renegade. The protector. He was playing with me, and eventually he’d tire of it. I couldn’t afford to let him into my mind, even though a small part of me wanted him somewhere else entirely—not in my mind, but inside me.

The day passed too quickly. I threw myself into rigorous training with the soldiers, trying to regain my focus. I barely recognized the shadow hunter I once was—the reputation that preceded me. The prince appeared during training, watching me. While the others’ glances and whispers didn’t faze me, his eyes held a weight I couldn’t ignore.

By nightfall, I prepared for the event. A celebration hosted by one of Umbra’s wealthiest and most influential families. The purpose was clear: strengthen diplomatic alliances and showcase the nobility’s power.

My outfit, handpicked by the royal committee, was a form-fitting black dress with silver accents that shimmered under the light. The backless design was daring, and I’d styled my hair into a loose bun with strands framing my face.

The prince, as always, commanded attention. His outfit was immaculate—a long velvet coat embroidered with intricate silver runes and mystical symbols. The high collar, leather accents, and polished silver buttons exuded power. His polished boots and the royal signet ring completed the look. He was the living embodiment of power and seduction.

The hall was crowded, lit by torches that cast dancing shadows on the opulent tapestries lining the walls. Everyone seemed to vie for the prince’s attention, but he remained distant, ever the observer. Meanwhile, I stayed alert, scanning every movement around us.

Everything about the place felt stifling. I didn’t belong here. The stares told me as much. I was a renegade, and no amount of title or position would change that in their eyes. But I stood tall. They’d have to swallow the fact that I was the prince’s protector. I wouldn’t bow to a bunch of privileged aristocrats. I was the one keeping them safe, hunting and punishing the troublemakers so they could keep sipping their blood-tear cocktails in peace.

I drifted away when the Prince stopped to talk with a royal emissary, needing to check the perimeter. A shadow caught my eye—someone who didn’t belong here, just as out of place as I felt. When our eyes met, his blue gaze pinned me in place. He bolted, and I felt compelled to follow. An intruder, perhaps?

I caught up to him in a deserted corridor, his figure blending with the shadows. Instead of running, he stopped and turned to face me. Something about him frozen me in place. He felt... familiar.

“Who are you?” I asked, though it felt like the question was directed at myself. At my memories. He noticed.

“You…” he swallowed hard. “You remember me?”

“No,” I replied firmly. “Do we know each other?”

He stepped closer, and my hand instinctively went to the dagger at my waist.

“Who are you?” I demanded again.

He took a deep breath, his eyes betraying an emotion I couldn’t place. There was no darkness in him, no anger. Just... something else.

“You know who I am. We’ll meet again, Mel.” The nickname hit me like a wave. I wanted to correct him, to say he’d gotten my name wrong, but a voice deep within me whispered it the same way—with tenderness, with care.

Before I could ask more, a sound behind me drew my attention. The Prince. When I turned back, the man was gone.

“Everything okay? You disappeared—I was looking for you…” he said, stepping closer.

“Yes,” I answered, still shaken. “Just fine.”

“What happened?” His eyes studied me closely.

“Nothing,” I said, straightening my posture. “But I’ll have the guards check the perimeter. I think there’s an intruder.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, glancing toward the shadows where the man had vanished.

“No, but better safe than sorry,” I said, starting to walk in the opposite direction.

Before I could go far, he grabbed my waist, holding me firmly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and close.

“You don’t need to be this close to ask that question. I already answered it,” I whispered, trying to maintain my composure.

“What happened to the Meridian who wanted to play, who was full of fire? You’re pulling back, distant. Your walls are crumbling, and that worries me,” he said, his words striking a chord deep within me because I knew they were true.

“You seem determined to awaken the worst in me. I can’t help but wonder why. It’s as if you want me to make you regret starting this game. Why is that?” I asked, my voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

“I don’t think you’d make me regret it. I’m waiting to see if you’ll deliver on your promises. Your lack of follow-through? That’s what haunts me,” he said, his low, provocative tone igniting a fire in me.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t stay in control. I pushed him against the wall, pinning him there, my body inches from his.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to provoke, Prince,” I whispered, my lips hovering just above his. “I could make you burn if I wanted to.” I pulled away. “But I won’t. We’re under constant attack, and you seem to think it’s all a game. You’re reckless.”

“I’m a demon, darling. Didn’t you know?” He smirked. “And I want...” His hands slid down my back to my hips, his fingers tracing the bare skin where my dress ended. “...for you to make me burn,” he whispered against my ear.

That’s when I lost it.

I stepped into the abyss.

His hands roamed beneath my dress, seeking the path he so desperately wanted to find, and I wanted him to find it. But just as he was about to, I stopped him.

“You have diplomats to greet, Prince,” I said sweetly in his ear.

Before he could respond, I slipped from his grasp, heading back toward the hall.

If he wanted to play, I’d play.