The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 332: Heated

SOREN

I barely registered the words coming out of Aldric’s mouth. He was droning on about some border dispute in the West, some piddling squabble between lords that usually would have had my full attention, but tonight? Tonight, the air in the Grand Hall felt stagnant, thick with the scent of stale wine and the lingering desperation of a hundred men trying too hard to be impressive.

"Are you even listening, Soren?" Aldric’s voice was a jagged blade, cutting through my fog.

I blinked, forcing a lazy, half-convinced smirk onto my face. "Hmm? Yes. Absolutely. Something about the West. Riveting, truly."

I was lying through my teeth. My focus was miles away, or rather, just a few corridors away, locked behind a set of silver-chased doors. I could still feel the phantom heat of Eris’s skin where I’d touched her during the dance. The memory of that water, ice turned to liquid fire by her body, was a slow-acting poison in my veins.

"I should check on my wife," I said, standing before Aldric or Konstantin could draw another breath to protest.

I didn’t wait for a reply. I exited the hall with a speed that bordered on undignified, my boots striking the stone in a rhythm that matched the frantic thud of my heart. I was excited. Fuck, I was more than excited. This was our first night as husband and wife, a reality that felt like a fever dream I never wanted to wake from.

As I passed the sentries in the private wing, they snapped to attention, their salutes crisp. But I saw the smirks they tried to hide. They knew exactly where I was going. They knew the Emperor was a man possessed, a wolf finally allowed into the den of the phoenix.

I reached the Imperial chambers and pushed the doors open quietly, expecting to see her waiting by the hearth or perhaps already draped across those midnight silks.

"Eris?" I called out softly. No answer.

I walked from room to room, my frustration mounting with every empty space. Where the hell was she? Then, I saw the balcony doors standing ajar, the curtains billowing like the wings of a ghost in the mountain breeze.

I stepped out onto the stone, and the world stopped.

There she was. Kneeling in the center of the impossible garden I’d built for her, her fingers brushing the petals of a Solmire lotus. The moonlight and the dancing violet light of the aurora played over her, turning her skin to iridescent pearl. But it was the dress... gods, that dress that made the breath catch in my throat until it was dry as bone.

The silver slip clung to every curve of her hips, the thin straps looking as though they might snap if I breathed too hard. The sheer blue robe did nothing to hide the swell of her breasts or the long, elegant line of her thighs. She looked like a goddess of the high peaks, something carved from starlight and raw, agonizing desire.

"Do you like it?" I managed to ask, my voice sounding like it had been dragged over gravel.

Eris startled, turning to face me. She stood slowly, her movements fluid and agonizingly graceful. To my shock, she didn’t have that sharp, defensive edge I expected. She smiled—a genuine, soft expression that made my chest tighten.

"You’re the most thoughtful man I’ve ever met, Soren," she said, her voice sincere. "Don’t lose that part of yourself."

I felt the blood rush to my face, a heat that had nothing to do with the freezing night air and everything to do with the vision standing before me.

My arousal was instant, a sharp, demanding throb that made it hard to stand still. I felt a surge of pride.... My attendants had followed my instructions to the letter. They had presented her to me exactly as I’d dreamed.

"I want a reward," I rasped, my gaze devouring the way the lace trimmed the curve of her thigh.

Immediately, the mask snapped back. Eris tilted her head, her expression going blank and regal. "Why are you in my room?"

I blinked, genuine confusion momentarily overriding my lust. "Ah? You mean our room?"

"My room," she corrected, her voice firm and cold as a glacier.

I let out a short, frustrated laugh. "I made sure this suite was big enough for both of us, Eris. I personally oversaw the placement of every fur, every candle."

"I noticed you didn’t consult me," she countered, crossing her arms... a move that only pushed her breasts higher against that thin silk. "I’d prefer separate chambers."

I felt like a wolf caught in a snare. "Well... yes. Strategically, I didn’t consult you. Because I knew you’d say exactly that."

"Get out," she said, though the fire in her eyes wasn’t quite as cold as her words.

I moved closer, stepping into her space until the scent of jasmine and smoke wrapped around me like a shroud.

"Fine. It’s your room," I pleaded, leaning down so my forehead almost touched hers. "But can I borrow it tonight? Just for tonight?"

"No."

"Please? I’ll be good."

"Liar," she whispered, her breath hitching.

"I’ll be *mostly* good," I amended shamelessly, my hands twitching with the need to reach out and pull her against me.

But as I looked at her, I started to notice things. The way her skin was flushed a deep, humid crimson that had nothing to do with the cold.

The way her breathing was shallow and fast, her chest heaving under the sheer fabric. Small, glittering beads of sweat were gathered at the hollow of her throat and along her collarbone, despite the sub-zero wind howling off the peaks.

Her pupils were so dilated they nearly swallowed the gold of her irises.

The heat was coming off her in waves. It was a physical force, a humid, sweet aura that made my own blood boil.

"Soren, I’m tired," she said, her voice lacking its usual bite as she tried to push me toward the doors. "It’s been a long day. Go to your own chambers."

"But I don’t have chambers," I said, resisting her push with the ease of a mountain standing against a breeze. "I gave them to you. This is the only bed I have left."

"That’s your problem," she panted, her hands flat against my chest.

I didn’t let her finish. I reached out, my hands catching her waist and hauling her flush against the balcony doors. I caged her there, my arms on either side of her head, my body pressing into hers until there wasn’t a whisper of air between us.

"Soren—" she started, but the protest died as I leaned down.

I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in that intoxicating scent. Then, I let my tongue dart out, licking slowly upward from her collarbone to the sensitive skin behind her ear. I tasted the salt of her sweat, the sweetness of the honeyed wine, and the raw, electric heat of her skin.

Eris let out a jagged, broken gasp. "Soren!"

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My hands began to slide across her body, the thin fabric of the robe feeling like it wasn’t even there.

And that’s when I felt it, the sheer ferocity of her temperature. It wasn’t a normal fever. It was a burning, desperate heat that seemed to vibrate under my fingers.

I knew that heat. I knew the specific, honeyed scent of the wedding wine.

"What did they give you?" I whispered against her skin, my voice thick with a sudden, surging excitement.

Eris was struggling now, her hands clutching at my shoulders, but she wasn’t pushing me away anymore. Her fingers were digging into my muscles, her body arching into mine as the drug made every touch a thousand times more intense.

"Soren, wait—" she begged, but her hips were already shifting against me, seeking the friction she so desperately needed.

I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her face was beautiful, wrecked with a lust she couldn’t control. Her eyes were glazed, her lips parted as she fought for air.

The aphrodisiac was working with a power that was staggering, a traditional Northern "gift" meant to ensure a wedding night that would be remembered for generations.

A slow, wicked smile spread across my face. My thumb brushed over her swollen lower lip, feeling the heat radiate from her.

"Oh, they prepared you very well, Empress," I murmured.