The heavy, soundproof double doors of the Onyx Pavilion’s presidential suite shut with a deep, echoing thud.
The sudden silence was absolute, instantly cutting off the roar of the midnight rain outside.
Scarlett felt the air change immediately.
The room was massive, decorated in dark velvet and high-ceiling luxury, but to her, it felt like a silver-lined cage.
Before she could even take a full step forward, a cold, shimmering ripple of frost crept across the floorboards and scaled the walls, sealing the windows and the doorway.
Valerius had just locked the room with his pureblood mana.
There was no way out.
“Are you going to stand by the door all night?” Valerius’s voice cut through the shadows.
He had already shed his ruined white shirt, tossing the blood-stained fabric onto the marble floor.
His broad, muscular chest was exposed, pale under the dim chandeliers, but his skin was marred by dark patches of dried blood and a jagged, angry gash across his shoulder where her nails had torn his flesh.
His breathing was heavy, every intake of air catching slightly against his cracked ribs.
Yet, his posture remained perfectly regal, his black eyes fixed entirely on her.
Scarlett didn’t move.
Her silver-ruby eyes tracked him like a cornered predator.
Her body was trembling from pure mana exhaustion, her legs feeling like lead, but her gaze remained sharp and lethal.
“I told you, Valerius.
You can lock me in here, but you will have to watch your back every single second.”
A dark, dangerous smile touched Valerius’s lips.
He didn’t look angry; he looked completely consumed.
“Good.
Keep that hatred alive, Scarlett.
It’s the only thing that makes your eyes glow like that.”
He walked over to a crystal decanter on the side table, pouring a dark, rich crimson liquid into a glass.
It wasn’t ordinary wine—it was high-grade mana fluid mixed with pureblood essence, designed to restore a vampire’s core after battle.
He walked toward her, his steps slow and unhurried, stopping just inches away.
The sheer size of his frame cast a long shadow over her, making the space between them feel impossibly small.
“Drink,” he commanded softly, holding the glass out to her.
“I’d rather starve,” Scarlett spat, turning her face away.
In a flash, Valerius’s patience snapped.
He set the glass down on the table with a loud clatter and gripped her chin with his long, freezing fingers, forcing her face back toward him.
His touch was bruising, his thumb pressing hard against her jawline.
“I am not asking you, Scarlett,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly frequency that vibrated right against her skin.
“Your body is flatlining.
If you don’t take this, your core will collapse before morning.
And I will not let you die.
Not yet.”
“You don’t care about my core,” she hissed, her hands coming up to push against his hard chest, but she had no strength left.
“Exactly,” he growled, his dark aura flaring up, making the air in the suite plummet below freezing.
He picked up the glass again, tilted her head back at a punishing angle, and pressed the rim against her lips.
Scarlett fought him, twisting her head, but his grip was like an iron vice.
A small trickle of the crimson liquid spilled over her bottom lip, trailing down her pale chin.
Valerius watched the drop fall, his absolute fixation stripping away his cold, royal mask.
Without warning, he set the glass down, leaned in, and wiped the blood away with his rough thumb, pressing down on her swollen lower lip until she gasped for air.
Taking advantage of her open mouth, he leaned down and drank the fluid from his own glass, then pressed his lips firmly against hers.
The proximity was suffocating.
Scarlett’s eyes widened as the rich, metallic heat of the mana fluid was forced down her throat.
She tried to bite him, but Valerius anticipated the move, his hand sliding down to her waist, lifting her off her feet and slamming her back against the heavy mahogany bed.
The mattress gave way under their combined weight, but Valerius didn’t let go.
He pinned her completely, his knees locking her thighs in place, trapping her under his heavy, dominant frame.
The heat radiating from their bodies was intense, fogging up the glass mirrors across the room.
Valerius’s breath was hot against her mouth, smelling faintly of the blood they had exchanged back in the dome.
His gaze dropped to her lips, entirely obsessed, his dark veins pulsing visibly against his pale neck.
“Every breath you take in this room belongs to me,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers with a slow, agonizing friction that made an involuntary shiver run straight down her spine.
He tilted her face, his fangs lightly grazing the sensitive pulse point of her jaw, right over the faint, star-shaped scar that had glitched in the hallway.
“If I hear you thinking about Sector 4 again…
if I hear you dreaming about that slum rat Lucas…
I will tear that sector down to the ground.”
Scarlett gasped, the sheer dominance of his weight crushing the air from her lungs.
But even with her body completely trapped, her spirit didn’t break.
She forced her hands up between their chests, her nails digging directly into the raw, open wound on his shoulder.
She tore at the flesh until fresh, dark pureblood energy coated her fingers, staining the bedsheets.
She leaned up, her silver eyes burning into his pitch-black ones, her mouth just a millimeter from his.
“Then do it, King,” she hissed right into his mouth, deliberately breathing in his dark scent.
“Jala do poori dunya ko.
Because no matter how hard you hold me, you will never own what’s inside my head.”
Valerius stiffened, a rare flash of that existential dread from the hallway crossing his features as he stared at her glowing eyes.
The ancient voice that had echoed in her mind—the moon commands the tide to drown it—seemed to hang invisibly between them, a silent promise of his own destruction.
Meanwhile, down the long, gothic corridor of the Onyx Pavilion, the atmosphere was just as tense.
Ethan stood perfectly still beneath a dim wall sconce, his hand resting tightly on the hilt of his long enforcer blade.
His sharp eyes scanned the shadows, his expression completely blank, though his mind was racing.
Julian and Lyra were walking quickly down the hall, Lyra’s fingers flying across the glowing holographic screen of her master security pad.
Her proud, royal features were tight with worry.
“He actually locked her in the presidential suite?” Lyra asked in a hurried whisper, looking up at Ethan.
“Ethan, this is madness.
High Council ke auditors subah tak yahan pahunch jayenge.
If they see Valerius acting this unstable over a human anomaly, they will use it as an excuse to seize Grandcrest.”
“Valerius knows the risks,” Ethan replied coldly, his voice devoid of emotion.
“Dante has already mobilized the shadow units to freeze all Council communications around the outer perimeter.
If an audit squad arrives, they won’t even make it past the front gates.”
Julian adjusted his glasses, staring at a flashing red node on his screen.
“It’s not just the Council we should worry about.
Look at this.
The neural flatline data I pulled from the academy vaults…
it matches a classified experiment from ninety years ago in Sector 4.
Scarlett isn’t just an anomaly.
She’s connected to the rebel cells.”
A low, unsettling chuckle echoed from the darkness behind them.
The three of them turned instantly as Dante stepped out from the parchaaiyan, his sharp amber eyes glinting in the dim light.
A sharp, teetar-bheetar grin played at the corner of his lips as he adjusted the collar of his military trench coat.
“Exactly, Julian,” Dante murmured, his voice smooth and calculating.
“Our pureblood king has finally found his weakness.
He is so busy guarding his new prize that he doesn’t see the storm brewing in the slums.
Zephyr is already moving, and Lucas is gathering the rebel lords.”
Dante looked up toward the top floor, his smile widening slightly as the faint, heavy vibrations of Valerius’s suppressive mana rippled through the ceiling.
“A king with a blind spot is a dangerous thing.
Let the auditors come, and let the rebels march.
The empire is finally getting interesting.”
Hey guys!
Hope you loved Chapter 16!
This chapter was all about that intense, toxic tension between Valerius and Scarlett.
We finally see Valerius losing his cold, perfect composure completely—he is absolutely obsessed, and pinning her down like that shows just how far he’ll go to keep her under his control.
But I love that Scarlett isn’t backing down at all; even when trapped, she still knows exactly how to push his buttons and draw blood.
Also, things are getting crazy outside that bedroom!
We finally get a glimpse of the bigger political storm brewing with the High Council, and it looks like Lucas and the rebels are already planning their next move.
What did you think of that forceful kiss scene?
And whose side are you on right now—the obsessed King or the rebel fighting for her freedom?