The waltz music played majestically, filling the gold and crystal-lined room with intoxicating notes. Hundreds of Asnaven nobles spun in a circle formation, their silk dresses rustling like waves of a colorful ocean.

  At the center of the whirlpool, Rhea Ashart danced with Prince Arlen Runerre.

  Arlen wore a formal ivory military uniform with gold epaulets and a royal blue sash. He looked like a god who had descended to earth. His large, warm hands possessively encircled Mira's waist, pulling her so close that there was no room for air between their bodies.

  Mira wore a midnight blue evening gown with an open back, Henesa's silver pin glimmering faintly on her collar. She smiled—a smile she had practiced in front of the mirror for hours—staring into Arlen's blue eyes, which tonight seemed cloudy, dark, and intense.

  “You're trembling,” Arlen whispered in Mira's ear, his voice low over the sound of violins.

  “It's just the cold, Your Highness,” Mira lied. “The balcony door is open too wide.”

  In truth, Mira was trembling because every cell in her body was screaming. Her mind was not here. Her mind was in the dark Clock Tower. Was Ulric safe? Had Anna succeeded? She hadn't heard anything. No explosions. No signals. Only the oppressive silence behind the party music.

  “Don't think about anything else,” Arlen tightened his grip on Mira's waist, a little painfully. He leaned down, staring into Mira's eyes with an intensity that made her feel naked. "Tonight is ours, Rhea. Last year, I was alone on the balcony, watching the fireworks with a glass of cold wine. This year... I have you."

  Mira swallowed. “I'm here, Arlen.”

  “Right. You're here.”

  The music slowed. People began counting down. The voices of hundreds of guests echoed in unison, creating a hypnotic rhythm.

  “TEN!”

  Arlen stopped dancing. He released Mira's hands from the waltz position, then cupped her face with both hands. His thumb stroked Mira's cheek, moving down to her lips.

  “NINE!”

  “You know,” Arlen said softly, his eyes never leaving Mira's lips. "There's an old Asnaven legend. Whoever you kiss when the bell tolls, their soul will be bound to yours for a full year."

  “EIGHT!”

  Mira forced a soft smile. “Only one year?”

  “Forever, if I decide so,” Arlen replied. His tone was strange. Not romantic. But final. Like a judge's verdict.

  “SEVEN... SIX... FIVE...”

  The crystal lights in the ballroom dimmed. The only light came from thousands of candles and the anticipation of the crowd.

  “FOUR... THREE...”

  Arlen leaned down. His breath, smelling of mint and wine, swept across Mira's face. Mira closed her eyes, surrendering to this role. She leaned forward, embracing her fate as the monster's lover.

  “TWO... ONE!”

  CLANG! The palace's great bell tolled.

  At the same moment, Arlen's lips crushed Mira's. The kiss was not gentle. It was rough, hungry, and demanding. Arlen kissed her as if he wanted to suck the breath from Mira's lungs. His tongue pushed in, dominating, marking his ownership. Arlen's hands on Mira's back squeezed tightly, his nails digging into the skin beneath the thin fabric of her dress.

  Outside, fireworks exploded. Red, green, and gold lights pierced through the tall glass windows, illuminating the couple in stroboscopic flashes. Amidst the cheers of “Happy New Year!”, Mira felt a tear fall from the corner of her eye. It wasn't a tear of happiness. It was a tear of instinctive fear. Something was wrong with this kiss. It didn't feel like love. It felt like... a farewell. Or perhaps, a conquest.

  Arlen released her lips after a full, suffocating minute. Both of them were breathing heavily. Arlen's eyes sparkled in the darkness. He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

  “Come on,” Arlen whispered, pulling Mira's hand. "This party is too noisy. I want to give you your New Year's gift in private."

  Without waiting for an answer, Arlen pulled Mira through the crowd, toward the grand staircase leading to the Sun Tower. Mira followed him, her feet dragging. Her heart was pounding. The bad feeling grew stronger, choking her neck tighter than any diamond necklace.

  ***

  The double doors to the room were closed and locked with magic. The sounds of the party downstairs could only be heard as a distant buzzing.

  Inside the room, lit by the fireplace and dim bedside lamps, their clothes were scattered on the floor. Mira's midnight blue dress lay next to Arlen's white uniform.

  The intimacy that had just occurred was the most intense Mira had ever felt. Arlen did not do it with the gentleness he had shown in the Reading Room. Tonight, he did it with ferocity. He touched Mira everywhere, kissing every inch of her skin, as if memorizing the texture of her body. Or inspecting merchandise.

  Now, it was all over. Sweat cooled on their skin.

  Mira lay on her back in the middle of the giant bed with black silk sheets. Her naked body felt tired, but her mind was alert. She wanted to get up, wanted to grab her bathrobe, wanted to find a reason to leave and check on Anna.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Arlen,” Mira called softly, trying to get up. “I'm thirsty. Can I...”

  Mira tried to sit up. But she couldn't.

  Her body was stiff. It wasn't muscle cramps. But something was holding her down. An invisible pressure weighing hundreds of kilograms pressed down on her chest, arms, and legs. Mira was trapped on the mattress, lying on her back, exposed and helpless.

  “Arlen?” Mira's voice turned panicked. “What is this? Let me go.”

  Arlen wasn't lying next to her. The prince was standing at the edge of the bed. He was wearing loose black pants and was shirtless. His perfect muscles glistened with sweat. He held a glass of wine in one hand, staring at Mira with a cold, unfamiliar expression. Very unfamiliar. Gone was the adoring gaze. Gone was the vulnerability of the “lonely little boy.” Standing there was the Monster King that Lysandra had spoken of.

  “Thirsty?” Arlen asked casually, twirling his wine glass. “You just drank from me, Rhea. Or should I call you... Agent Ashart?”

  Mira's blood froze. “What do you mean? Arlen, this isn't funny. This pressure is hurting you.”

  “Hurting?” Arlen placed his glass on the nightstand. He walked closer, then climbed onto the bed, crawling over Mira's locked body. He pinned Mira between his arms, staring down at her face.

  “Do you know what hurts, Rhea?” Arlen whispered, his finger tracing the line of Mira's jaw. “Knowing that the woman you love is actually a little rat running around inside the walls of your house.”

  Arlen snapped his fingers. A visual projection of black smoke appeared in the air. It wasn't a camera recording. It was Visual Memory.

  Mira saw it. An image of Ulric running inside the Clock Tower. An image of Anna fighting the spider Shadow Soldier. The image was taken from a first-person perspective. The perspective of the Shadow Soldier.

  Mira's eyes widened. “You...”

  “What do you think the Shadow Soldiers are?” Arlen chuckled, his voice terrifying. “They're not hired guards. They're extensions of me. Their eyes are my eyes. Their ears are my ears.”

  Arlen leaned forward, his nose touching Mira's. “I saw everything, dear. I saw your little friend, Ulric, photographing the ‘Battery’ in the clock tower. I saw your maid, Anna, destroying my expensive spider toy.”

  “And I saw you...” Arlen touched Mira's lips. “...pretending to love me on that balcony that afternoon, while your mind was plotting betrayal.”

  Mira tried to resist. She mustered all her physical strength, even trying to summon the Binary Star within her. But her Intian was locked. The static pressure around her body blocked the flow of her energy. She was completely paralyzed.

  “Why?” Mira asked, tears of anger welling up in her eyes. "If you knew... why did you let me live? Why did you dance with me? Why did you sleep with me?"

  “Because I was curious,” Arlen replied. He straightened his body, sitting on Mira's stomach, pinning her down with his weight. “I wanted to know how far you would go. And honestly... your acting was incredible. That kiss on the balcony? Drama-worthy.”

  Arlen's face became expressionless. “And because I needed confirmation about one more thing.”

  Arlen placed his palm on Mira's left chest. Right over her heart. Her skin was burning hot. “Lysandra Eriallve told you about Solstice, right? About how we need energy?”

  Mira didn't answer. She spat in Arlen's face. The saliva hit the Prince's cheek. Arlen wasn't angry. He wiped it away gently with his thumb, then licked it.

  “Fierce,” Arlen commented. “I like that.”

  “You eat your own people,” Mira hissed. "You imprison them. You're a monster, Arlen. You're not a god. You're a parasite."

  “Parasites need hosts to live,” Arlen nodded in agreement. “And you're right. The Solstice is getting closer. Professor Haldor's energy supply in the clock tower is running low—especially after your friend messed with the machine. I need a new source.”

  Arlen's hand pressed harder against Mira's chest. “During our encounter earlier... and every time we touched over the past month... I sensed something strange about you, Rhea. Your energy... is different. It's not an ordinary element. It's not commonplace.”

  Arlen's eyes glowed bright blue, and static electricity began to sparkle in his hair. “It feels pure. Ancient. It feels like... a falling star.”

  Arlen leaned down again. This time, his face wasn't heading for Mira's lips. His face was heading for Mira's chest. For her exposed breasts.

  “Don't touch me!” Mira screamed.

  Arlen ignored her. He opened his mouth. But he didn't kiss her. He pressed his mouth against Mira's left nipple, right above her heart. And he began to suck.

  It wasn't a sexual act. It was an attack.

  Mira screamed in pain. It felt like an ice needle was being thrust directly into her heart. Arlen wasn't sucking on her skin. He was drawing out her Intian. He was pulling silver threads from the core of Mira's Binary. The symbol of the eagle-dragon enclosed in an octagram reappeared there.

  Mira's body convulsed under Arlen's magical restraint. Her back arched, her toes clawed at the sheets. It felt cold. Empty. Terrifying. Her life energy was forcibly drawn out through her pores, into Arlen's mouth.

  Arlen groaned, a dark sound of pleasure. He lifted his head slightly. His lips were wet, but not with saliva, rather with particles of silver light that he was swallowing. He stared at Mira with wide eyes, his pupils constricted with Intian euphoria.

  “For Heaven's sake...” Arlen whispered, his voice trembling. “This is delicious. This isn't an Anomaly. This isn't ordinary Magic. This is... Origin.” His hand traced the symbol. “What is this... why did you hide all this?”

  He stared at Mira like a starving man looking at a king's feast. “You're not a spy, Rhea. You're my main battery. With your energy... I don't need a hundred Professor Haldors. You're enough. You alone are enough for me to become an eternal God.”

  Arlen bent down again, this time more aggressively. He bit gently, then sucked harder, wanting to drain more. Mira felt her vision go white. Her consciousness began to fade. Her Intian dimmed, screaming in pain from being magically raped. She couldn't fight back. She would die here, on this silk bed, drained by the man she thought loved her.

  Ulric... Anna... Forgive me...

  Arlen grew more ravenous. The blue electricity in his body mixed with the silver light he had stolen from Mira, creating a terrifying purple aura. His left hand groped Mira's other breast, he let his lust continue to move while performing this ‘ritual’ of suction.

  “Again...” Arlen growled on Mira's chest. “Give me everything.”

  And just as Mira felt her heartbeat stop...

  A tremendous explosion shook the palace. It wasn't fireworks. It was a structural explosion. The tremors were so strong that the glass windows of Arlen's room shattered and scattered inside. The floor shook violently, knocking over the bedside lamp and flower vase.

  Arlen was startled. He was thrown to the side, falling off Mira's body due to the shock. The suction connection was forcibly broken.

  Mira coughed, gasping for air. The magical pressure that locked her body weakened for a moment as Arlen's concentration wavered.

  Arlen got up quickly, his face red with anger. He ran to the balcony, whose door was already broken. He looked towards the city.

  In the distance, on the north side of the capital. The Academy Clock Tower. The tower was no longer standing upright. The middle of the tower had exploded. Blue flames—unstable Intian flames—rose high into the night sky, forming a pillar of light that illuminated the entire city with the color of death. The tower's rubble fell on the surrounding buildings.

  The “Suckers” system had exploded.

  Arlen gripped the balcony railing so hard that the metal bent. “Who...” he growled, his voice trembling with hatred. “WHO DARE?!”

  Arlen turned back to the room. His eyes fell on Mira, who was crawling weakly, trying to reach for her bathrobe with trembling hands.

  “Your friends,” Arlen hissed. “They blew up my power source.”

  Arlen walked back towards Mira. His steps were slow, heavy, and deadly. The electricity in his body was no longer under control; sparks of lightning flashed, burning the carpet.

  “Do you think that saved you?” Arlen raised his hand, summoning lightning. “It only made me hungrier, Rhea. And now... there's no more games.”

  Mira backed up until her back hit the cold wall. She stared at the monster before her. The New Year had just begun. And Rhea Ashart had just ignited an open war.