Chapter Two

Aarav Rune stops in front of me, his presence consuming every inch of space between us. He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t need to. The weight of his gaze alone is enough to make my skin prickle, my breath catching.

His brown eyes drag over me, slow and deliberate, the way a man examines something before deciding if it’s worth keeping. A shiver races down my spine, but I keep my face blank, my back straight. I refuse to look away, even as my heart pounds so hard I swear he can hear it.

"How old is she?" Aarav’s voice is smooth, measured—like he already knows the answer but wants to hear it said aloud.

"Twenty-two," Cassian replies, his tone clipped, indifferent.

Aarav makes a low, amused sound in the back of his throat. "Still fresh," he muses, and the way he says it makes my stomach turn.

I clench my jaw, swallowing down the sharp retort burning on my tongue.

Aarav doesn’t spare me a glance as he speaks again. "Body count?"

Cassian barely hesitates. "She’s untouched."

Aarav finally looks at me again, and something in his brown eyes shifts—something slow, dark, and undeniably pleased. His lips curl, not quite a smirk, but close.

"Untouched," he repeats, rolling the word over his tongue like he’s savoring it, like it’s a rare delicacy meant only for him. Then he exhales a quiet laugh, low and knowing. "Now that’s a fucking treat."

My stomach twists, a heat creeping up my neck that has nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with fury.

He tilts his head slightly, watching me like a man who already knows exactly how he’s going to ruin me. "A pretty little thing like you, untouched? That’s rare." His voice dips lower, smug and taunting. "Must’ve been saving yourself for someone special."

His meaning is clear. He thinks that someone is him.

Aarav’s gaze drags over me like he’s peeling back every layer, taking his time, enjoying the slow unraveling of my discomfort. My fingers curl at my sides, nails pressing into my palms, but I don’t look away. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

He hums, tapping a finger against his jaw, like he’s considering something. Then—

"And?" His voice is casual, as if he’s asking about the weather. But I know what’s coming before he even says it. "Is she fertile?"

My chest tightens.

Cassian doesn’t hesitate. "Yes."

Aarav exhales, a low, pleased sound vibrating in his throat. "Well, well," he murmurs, tilting his head slightly. "Perfect little body, untouched, and capable of giving me an heir?" He drags his tongue over his bottom lip like he’s savoring the thought. "Fuck, Cassian. You really are giving me a gift."

My spine stiffens.

A gift.

The word coils around my ribs, tightening like a vice. Like I’m not a person but a possession. A thing to be unwrapped and used at someone else’s convenience.

My gaze snaps to Cassian, my throat tightening. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" My voice is sharp, but beneath it, I hear the slight tremor I wish wasn’t there.

Cassian doesn’t look at me. His expression is impassive, unreadable. "Exactly what it sounds like."

Aarav chuckles, deep and rich, like this is all terribly amusing to him. "Your brother and I have come to an arrangement," he says smoothly, stepping even closer, until I can feel the heat radiating from his body. "And you, sweetheart, are part of that arrangement."

The room feels too small, the air thick and suffocating. My fingers twitch against the silk of my dress. "What arrangement?"

Aarav tilts his head, watching me with dark amusement. "I need a wife," he says simply, like he’s discussing a business deal. "Cassian needs power."

The breath leaves my lungs in a sharp exhale. My chest tightens, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

No.

No, he wouldn’t—

I turn to Cassian, my voice rising. "You sold me?"

His jaw tics, but he doesn’t react to the accusation. "I secured our future, Riva."

"By handing me over to him?" My voice shakes, my fists clenched so tightly I feel my nails biting into my palms.

Cassian exhales, slow and measured, as if he’s speaking to a child throwing a tantrum. "It was necessary."

Aarav smirks. "Don’t sound so ungrateful, little bride," he murmurs, reaching out to run a single finger down my arm. I flinch, my skin crawling. "You’re getting the privilege of being mine."

My head snaps back to Cassian, betrayal lacing my voice. "You can’t do this."

"You don’t have a choice," Cassian replies, his tone final.

Aarav steps even closer, his breath ghosting over my cheek. "And neither do I," he murmurs, mock sympathy in his voice. "But don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make a wife out of you soon enough."

My stomach drops.

as he speaks. "Four days."

I blink. "What?"

Cassian finally looks at me, his expression unreadable. "The wedding. It’s in four days."

My stomach twists violently. The air in the room thickens, pressing down on me as the reality of their words settles in my bones like ice.

Four days.

I choke out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. "You’re joking."

Aarav leans in, his voice a smooth murmur against my skin. "Do I look like a man who jokes?"

I clench my jaw, forcing myself not to flinch, not to show weakness. "You can’t possibly expect me to go along with this."

Cassian exhales, his patience fraying. "It’s already done, Riva. The invitations have been sent. The dress is being tailored."

The dress. The invitations.

I stare at him in disbelief. "You planned all of this without even telling me?"

Aarav chuckles, his fingers brushing against the loose strands of my hair. "You were never supposed to have a say, sweetheart."

A sharp, searing fury burns through me. "I am not a fucking pawn—"

Aarav cuts me off with a quiet, taunting hum. "You are now."

My fingers twitch at my sides, nails pressing into my palms so hard I swear they might draw blood. "This isn’t a wedding," I bite out. "It’s a goddamn sentence."

Cassian’s expression hardens. "It’s necessary."

"For who?" My voice cracks, fury barely containing the hurt clawing at my ribs. "For you? For our family?" I let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "Because it sure as hell isn’t for me."

Aarav tilts his head, watching me with cool amusement. "You think throwing a tantrum will change anything?" His fingers trail down my arm, slow and deliberate. "Four days from now, you’ll be my wife, whether you like it or not."

I rip my arm away, my glare sharp enough to cut. "And if I refuse?"

His smirk is slow, predatory. "You won’t."

Cassian steps closer, his voice low and firm. "You won’t," he echoes. "Because if you do, Riva, you put us all at risk. You know what’s at stake here."

My stomach twists, dread slamming into me like a freight train.

The Walsh family.

Cassian’s empire.

The fragile power we’ve fought to hold onto in a world that devours weakness.

And now, I’m the sacrificial lamb to keep it all intact.

Aarav watches the realization settle in my eyes and smiles like he’s already won. "Smart girl."

I swallow hard, forcing my expression back into something cold, something unreadable, even as my pulse thunders in my ears. "Four days," I murmur, more to myself than them.

"Four days," Aarav confirms, his voice a quiet promise of inevitability.

And then he turns to Cassian, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. "Make sure she behaves until then."

With that, he walks away, leaving me standing there with my traitorous brother and the weight of a future I never wanted crushing down on my chest.