I won’t fall for the queen who burned my world

The days had slipped through Elysia's fingers like grains of sand, each moment bleeding into the next with a merciless inevitability.

Ever since that tense dinner, the world around her had felt both too fast and too slow. The memory of Malvoria's quiet, deliberate words Have a good night, Elysia still lingered in her mind, an echo that refused to fade.

It gnawed at her, twisting through her thoughts like a vine that refused to be cut away.

But it wasn't just Malvoria's presence that haunted her.

Zera had come to her that night, injured and shaken, crimson staining her lips as she clutched her side.

Elysia had frozen at the sight, heart pounding in her chest as she rushed to her girlfriend's side, frantic questions tumbling from her lips. But Zera had stopped her with a bitter, pained smile.

"She attacked me," Zera had whispered through shallow breaths. "For no reason. Just because she could. Because she's a cruel, heartless demon."

Elysia had sat beside her, numb and speechless, her hands trembling as she tried to process it. She knew Malvoria was cruel.

She knew what kind of woman the Demon Queen was. But somehow, hearing the story from Zera's lips had made it real in a way that nothing else had. Malvoria's violence was no longer just a concept—it was tangible, visceral.

And now, the wedding was tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

The word alone sent waves of panic crashing through her chest.

Everything was ready. The castle hummed with a restless energy, servants moving in hurried whispers, their arms laden with silken fabrics, fresh flowers, and endless scrolls of wedding plans.

The grand hall had already been transformed the cold, imposing stone walls now draped with crimson banners embroidered in gold, flickering lanterns casting warm light over the polished floors.

Her gown was ready too.

Elysia's eyes flicked to the far corner of her room where the dress waited, draped over a mannequin that stood like a silent sentinel.

The gown was breathtaking—layers of silk the color of midnight, with delicate embroidery of crimson flames that licked up the bodice and along the hem, mirroring her own fire magic.

The sleeves were sheer, whisper-thin fabric that cascaded down to her wrists, and the neckline was daring, exposing her collarbones and shoulders.

It was beautiful.

And it felt like a prison.

Elysia let out a shaky breath, her fingers clutching the edge of the window frame as she stared out at the darkened courtyard below.

The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting pale light over the castle grounds. Everything looked so peaceful from up here, so still. As if the world didn't know that tomorrow, her entire life would change forever.

I'm not ready.

The thought surged through her, sharp and desperate.

How could she be ready? How could anyone expect her to walk down that aisle, to stand beside the woman who had torn her world apart and vow herself to her for eternity?

She had spent her whole life fighting for Arvandor, for freedom, for love. And now, she was surrendering all of it to the very person who had stolen it from her.

It's for Father, she reminded herself, the thought a fragile lifeline. It's to save him. To keep him alive.

But even that felt hollow now.

What would her father think if he could see her like this? Would he understand? Or would he see her as weak—as someone who had given up?

Her chest tightened painfully, and she clenched her eyes shut, trying to will away the rising tide of emotion. But the weight of it was crushing, pressing down on her shoulders until she could barely breathe.

Her room felt suffocating.

Without thinking, she turned and slipped through the door, her bare feet silent against the cool stone floor as she padded through the castle halls.

She didn't know where she was going, only that she couldn't stay still any longer. Her mind was a whirlwind, and she needed... something. Air. Distance. Anything.

Her steps, guided by some unseen pull, led her to the ballroom.

The massive double doors stood ajar, and Elysia hesitated for a moment before pushing them open just wide enough to slip inside.

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the moonlight streaming through the tall arched windows, illuminating the polished marble floor in silvery streaks.

She stepped further inside, the vast emptiness swallowing her whole. The echoes of her own footsteps whispered back at her as she crossed the room, memories of the last time she had been here flashing through her mind like ghosts.

The dance.

The tension.

The feel of Malvoria's hand on her waist, possessive and firm.

Elysia shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as she stood in the center of the ballroom, staring up at the faint glimmers of light reflecting off the high ceiling.

She didn't know why she had come here, only that something had drawn her—something she couldn't name.

What am I doing? she thought bitterly, shaking her head. This won't change anything. Tomorrow will come no matter what.

But before she could turn to leave, she felt it.

A presence.

Elysia froze, every muscle in her body tensing as the air around her shifted, growing heavier. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Malvoria.

The soft click of boots against the marble floor confirmed it, each step deliberate and unhurried.

Elysia swallowed hard, her breath quickening as she forced herself to turn, her violet eyes locking onto the Demon Queen's dark, unreadable gaze.

Malvoria stood near the doorway, dressed in her usual black tunic and trousers, but there was something different about her tonight.

Her expression wasn't the cold, smug mask Elysia had come to expect. Instead, there was... something else. Something unsettlingly human.

"Couldn't sleep?" Malvoria asked softly, her voice low and even.

Elysia's throat tightened. She wanted to snap back, to throw some biting remark in Malvoria's face, but the words caught in her chest.

Instead, she nodded mutely, turning her gaze away.

The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Elysia could feel Malvoria's eyes on her, could feel the weight of something unsaid pressing down on both of them.

It was unbearable.

"Why are you here?" Elysia whispered finally, her voice barely audible.

Malvoria didn't answer immediately. She took a slow step forward, then another, until she was standing just a few feet away from Elysia.

Close enough that Elysia could see the faint tension in her jaw, the way her hands clenched at her sides.

"I..." Malvoria started, then trailed off. She exhaled sharply, as if frustrated with herself, before reaching into the folds of her tunic and pulling out something small and shimmering.

A necklace.

Elysia blinked, confusion flickering across her face as Malvoria held it out to her. It was a delicate silver chain with a crescent moon pendant, a deep sapphire glowing faintly at its center.

"Wear this tomorrow," Malvoria said quietly, her voice devoid of its usual sharpness.

Elysia stared at the necklace, then at Malvoria, suspicion knitting her brows together. "Why?"

Malvoria's lips pressed into a thin line. "Because I'm asking you to."

That wasn't an answer, and they both knew it. But before Elysia could protest, Malvoria stepped closer and, without warning, wrapped her arms around her.

Elysia froze.

It wasn't a harsh, possessive hold like she would have expected. It was gentle, almost... tender. Malvoria's arms encircled her with a warmth that left Elysia breathless, her body stiff against the unexpected embrace.

Her mind screamed at her to push Malvoria away, to shove her back and demand an explanation.

But she didn't.

She couldn't.

For a moment that stretched far too long, Elysia stood there, her heart pounding violently in her chest, her breath shallow. The scent of leather and faint smoke enveloped her, grounding her in a way she didn't understand.

When Malvoria finally pulled away, her expression was carefully blank, but there was something in her eyes—something raw, almost vulnerable.

"Good night, Elysia," she whispered.

Then she turned and left, leaving Elysia standing alone in the vast ballroom, the necklace clutched tightly in her trembling fingers.

Elysia's hands wouldn't stop shaking as she made her way back to her chambers, her mind a chaotic mess of confusion, anger, and something she refused to name.

She replayed the moment over and over—the feel of Malvoria's arms around her, the weight of the necklace in her palm.

What the hell just happened?

She reached her room, pushing the door open quietly, only to freeze when she saw who was waiting inside.

Zera.

Her girlfriend was seated on the edge of the bed, her eyes sharp and focused, the remnants of her injuries still visible but fading.

"We have a plan to kill Malvoria," Zera whispered, her voice low but steady.

Elysia's breath caught.

"And we're going to get our revenge."