The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 118: A promise

She was blushing.

Eris Igniva, the Fire Queen, the woman who’d burned people alive without flinching, was blushing because I’d suggested we get naked together.

Satisfaction flooded through me, sharp and immediate.

I wanted more of that. Wanted to see exactly how red I could make her, how flustered, how undone. Wanted to find every button I could push and press them all simultaneously until she forgot how to form coherent sentences.

But before I could push further, she snapped.

"You left us stranded here with no clothes, no supplies, no way to—" She gestured broadly at the cave, at our situation, at everything. "What were you thinking?"

I laughed.

Couldn’t help it. The indignation in her voice, the way she was glaring at me like I’d deliberately sabotaged our wardrobe situation instead of being slightly preoccupied with keeping her alive.

"I was thinking," I said, still grinning because her outrage was adorable and I was definitely not telling her that, "that you were dying. Forgive me for not packing a change of clothes before riding through wilderness with your unconscious, burning body in my arms your Majesty."

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"I—" She paused. Then her expression shifted, softened, and when she spoke again her voice had lost its sharp edge. "Thank you."

The words were quiet. Almost embarrassed. Like gratitude physically hurt her to express.

"For saving me," she continued, looking down at her hands instead of at me. "For... always saving me."

She paused. And then....

"I keep losing control. Keep letting that thing inside me take over. And you keep—" She cut herself off again, jaw tightening as she chuckled bitterly.

"I’m starting to wonder if I’m even stable enough to stay by your side. If I’m capable of being an Empress when I can’t even control my own power."

The last part came out barely above a whisper.

"Maybe you’d be better off without—"

Anger hit me like a physical blow.

Not at her. Never at her. But at the words, at the implication, at the idea that she thought I’d ever—ever—choose to exist without her now that I’d found her.

I moved before thought could interfere.

Crossed the distance between us in two strides, dropped to my knees in front of where she sat, grabbed her face between both hands with enough force that she had no choice but to look at me, to meet my eyes, to see exactly how serious I was.

"Your Majesty." The word came out harsh. Commanding. "Don’t ever say that again."

She blinked, startled by my vehemence.

"I don’t care if you lose control," I continued, each word deliberate, weighted with conviction.

"I don’t care if that dragon wakes up every single day and tries to burn its way out of you. I’ll find a way to bring you back. Every single time. No matter where you go, Eris. I’ll search the whole realm. I’ll tear apart reality itself if I have to. But I will bring you back."

Her eyes widened slightly, lips parting like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words.

I wanted to tell her she made me feel complete.

That she filled spaces in me I hadn’t even known were hollow until she’d stepped into them. That every time she smiled, or looked at me like I was something that wasn’t damaged, it felt like someone was stitching my broken parts together with light.

But saying it aloud would’ve split me open.

Because the truth of it, the raw, terrifying honesty, was that wanting her felt like ripping my chest open and handing her everything inside.

And deep down, I knew her power, that loss of control she feared so much, wasn’t some curse or flaw. It was everything she’d buried for nearly three decades finally clawing its way to the surface, every pain, every ounce of rage and fear she’d forced herself to silence. It wasn’t madness. It was the consequence of surviving too long without ever being allowed to be human.

I remembered the temple.

Remembered seeing her transformed, eyes molten gold, wings of fire, speaking in that layered voice that was her and not-her simultaneously. Remembered how terrifying it had been to see her body, her face, her form, and know that she wasn’t there, that something else was wearing her skin.

The fear had been paralyzing.

But not enough to make me leave.

Not enough to make me give up.

My hands tightened on her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones with a gentleness that contradicted the intensity of my words.

"I don’t care if you burn the whole world down." Each word was a vow. A promise. A declaration that couldn’t be taken back or softened or made acceptable for polite company. "You’re the one I want as my wife. Not some controlled, refined version. You. Exactly as you are. Fire and fury and chaos included."

The air between us went taut.

Charged with something that was part emotion, part desire, part recognition that we’d crossed into territory we couldn’t retreat from even if we wanted to.

"Soren..." My name came out soft. Uncertain. Like she was testing the weight of it, testing whether saying it in that tone would make me stop or push me further.

"I’m a mad woman," she continued, voice gaining strength. "My power feeds off destruction. I’ve hurt people. Killed people. Burned them alive because they annoyed me or threatened me or just existed wrong."

"In case you haven’t noticed," I said, leaning closer, "I’m not sane either."

Her breath caught.

"The things you think you’ve done?" I smiled, but there was nothing warm in it. Nothing kind. Just acknowledgment of truths I rarely spoke aloud. "I’ve done ten times worse. I’ve frozen people from the inside out. Turned them into ice sculptures while they were still conscious, still screaming. Watched them shatter into pieces and felt nothing."

Her eyes searched mine, looking for something, revulsion, maybe, or judgment, or proof that I was lying to make her feel better.

She wouldn’t find it.

Because I meant every word.

"I don’t care what you are." My voice dropped lower, intimate, meant only for her. "I don’t care what you’ve done. Or what you’ll do. I want you, Your Majesty."

Exactly as she was. Mad and dangerous and mine.

I paused, let the words sink in...

Then, softly but with intent, I added, "And every time you say something like that again, every time you even suggest I’d be better off without you... I have no choice but to punish you, Your Majesty."

She went very still.

Then her eyes narrowed, defensive but also curious, like she couldn’t help but rise to the challenge even when she knew it was probably a trap.

"And exactly how will I be punished?"

I didn’t answer with words. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Instead, I let my gaze drop to her lips.

Slowly. Deliberately. Making sure she knew exactly where my attention had gone, what I was thinking, what I wanted.

Then I leaned in.

Inch by inch. Giving her time to pull away, to tell me to stop, to set boundaries I’d respect even if it killed me.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Just watched, eyes dark, lips parted, trembling ever so slightly as the space between us disappeared.