Bound by Lust

Kael barely took two steps before Esme's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

"Stop."

His movements halted, but he didn't turn immediately. Instead, he let out a slow breath, as if debating whether she was worth acknowledging.

Esme's hands curled into fists at her sides. "Who do you think you are, Kael?" she demanded, her voice laced with restrained fury.

Slowly, Kael turned his head, his black eyes meeting hers with that same unreadable indifference. "I'm the man you agreed to marry," he said flatly. "Or have you forgotten?"

Esme took a step closer, her pulse racing with unspoken frustration. "Oh, I remember," she shot back. "But I don't remember agreeing to be treated like I don't exist."

Kael arched a brow. "If you want attention, Esme, you only need to ask."

His tone was calm, almost mocking, and it made her blood boil.

"This isn't about attention," she snapped. "This is about respect. You walk out on me every time I try to talk to you. You pretend I'm not here unless it benefits you. You treat me like I'm just a contract, nothing more."

Kael's gaze didn't waver, his expression frustratingly neutral. "And isn't that exactly what you are?"

Esme sucked in a sharp breath, her chest tightening.

She knew what their arrangement was. Knew this wasn't love.

But something about the way he said it—so dismissively, so detached—felt like a slap.

"You don't get to act like I'm nothing," she said, her voice quieter but no less firm. "I'm supposed to be your wife, Kael. You could at least acknowledge that."

For the first time, something flickered in his eyes. Something dark.

"You want me to treat you like my wife?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low.

Esme swallowed, but she held her ground. "Yes."

Kael took a slow step toward her. Then another.

Esme stiffened as he closed the space between them, stopping only when there were mere inches between their bodies. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the subtle scent of his cologne—dark, intoxicating, suffocating.

His fingers lifted, brushing a strand of hair away from her face in a touch so light, so deliberate, that it sent a shiver down her spine.

"You want to be acknowledged?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me, Esme… would you rather I ignore you, or would you rather I remind you exactly who you belong to?"

Her breath caught in her throat.

The intensity in his gaze made her knees weak, made something twist inside her—something she refused to name.

"You're playing games," she said, voice shaking slightly.

Kael's lips curled into a slow, dark smirk. "Am I?"

Esme forced herself to step back, breaking the tension. "You don't get to pick and choose when I matter to you," she bit out. "You don't get to treat me like I'm invisible one second and then act like this the next."

Kael studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, as if the conversation had bored him, he simply turned away.

Esme's anger flared.

"Don't walk away from me, Kael!" she snapped.

He paused but didn't look at her.

Esme's nails dug into her palms. "Why do you always do this?" she demanded. "Why do you shut me out? Why do you treat me like I'm just some obligation?"

Kael finally turned his head slightly, his dark eyes flicking to hers.

"Because that's exactly what you are," he said smoothly.

Esme's breath hitched.

Kael didn't stay to watch her reaction.

Without another word, he walked away, leaving her standing there—furious, hurt, and burning with emotions she didn't know how to control.

To be continued…

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