Dark Moon: Rise of The Dark King

Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 352. Trapped

"I just… I don't want to feel like I'm trapped, Angel. Like I can't even take a step without someone watching," she added hesitantly.

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I'll make sure they're discreet. You won't even notice them most of the time. But I need to know that if anything happens, you'll have protection."

Rose gave him a small smile, her hand brushing against his arm briefly as they walked. "You're always thinking ten steps ahead, aren't you?"

"Someone has to," Angel said with a faint chuckle, his eyes glinting with a mix of humor and steel. "Especially when I'm surrounded by enemies."

Rose's smile turned wry as she gave him a sidelong glance. "You make it sound like I'm not capable of protecting myself."

"You are," he admitted without hesitation, his gaze steady on hers. "I've seen you fight, Rose. You're strong. But sometimes… things can get worse. And not every battle can be won with strength."

Her steps slowed for a fraction of a second. "You think I'd be a liability?"

"Never," Angel said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "But when it comes to you… I can't afford to take chances."

She let out a soft breath, shaking her head, but the small smile that tugged at her lips softened her exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that?"

He smirked, not bothering to deny it as they approached the chamber. The soft glow of the light bathed the room in a warm light, and the faint scent of lavender from the prepared bath greeted them. Sarah and the maids were waiting inside, their hands folded neatly as they bowed in greeting.

"The bath is ready, Your Majesties," Sarah announced with a practiced smile. "And the refreshments are on the side table."

Rose gave them a gracious nod. "Thank you, Sarah. That'll be all for tonight."

The maids exchanged glances before dipping into curtsies and quietly exiting the room. The door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving the two of them alone. The faint sound of the water lapping against the tub filled the air.

Rose turned to him, her hands reaching for the lapels of his blazer. "Let me help," she offered, her voice gentle but firm as she began to slide the fabric off his shoulders.

Angel didn't protest, letting her take the blazer and fold it neatly over a chair. But when her hands moved toward the buttons of his shirt, he caught her wrists gently, stopping her in her tracks.

"There's no need for that," he said, his voice calm but resolute. "I'll do it myself."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking in amusement. "Are you still embarrassed? We're husband and wife, Angel."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, it's not that."

"Then what is it?" she pressed, her tone teasing as she tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Don't tell me you're shy."

"I'm not," he replied smoothly, his grip on her wrists loosening as he stepped back slightly. "But you're the one who told me to rest, remember? If you start taking my shirt off, I might get other ideas."

Rose blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. "Other ideas?" she echoed, her voice dropping to a playful whisper as she took a step closer. "And what kind of ideas would those be?"

His eyes met hers, a flicker of heat and amusement mingling in his gaze. "The kind that might make us both late tomorrow," he said, his tone light but edged with sincerity. "It's already late, Rose."

Her cheeks warmed slightly at his honesty, but she didn't back down. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head as she studied him. "So you're saying it's my fault if we end up staying up late?"

He smirked, unbuttoning his shirt casually, as if her words didn't phase him. "I'm saying I'm trying to follow your orders. You told me to rest, and I'm doing my best to comply."

She rolled her eyes, but the laughter in her voice was impossible to miss.

He shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it over the chair. His toned chest caught the soft glow of the light, highlighting the numerous scars crisscrossing his skin. Angel didn't even glance at them; they were as much a part of him as the air he breathed. But Rose's eyes lingered, her heart squeezing at the sight.

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