Chapter 4: The Duke’s Terms

As the rabbit struggled for air, its small body twitched and Orion's hold on it grew tighter. Breathing heavily, Sylvara's violet gaze met his hand. "How did you survive in the Dark Forest?" Orion enquired, sounding calm and almost lethargic, as though he weren't slowly strangling the thing he was holding. With clenched fists at her sides, Sylvara swallowed. "The Yemtema plant."

Orion’s brows lifted slightly. "Yemtema?"

She nodded. "The animals avoid it. They hate the smell."

"But I don’t smell anything," Henry, the butler, interrupted with a doubtful look.

"You wouldn’t," she snapped. "Humans can’t."

Orion hummed thoughtfully, his silver eyes never leaving hers. "Then tell me—why doesn’t your little pet run from it?" He gave the rabbit a small shake, its tiny paws flailing uselessly.

"Because Kerry is not from the Dark Forest."

"Kerry?" Orion repeated, his lips curling. "Are you saying that this bunny has a name? Sylvara's mouth clenched.

The butler leaned in slightly. "That is useful information, Your Grace. If this plant can repel—"

Orion waved a hand, cutting him off. "Since you named your pet, you must have a name too."

"I didn’t name it," Sylvara snapped. "That bunny is the last of its kind. You humans slaughtered them all." Her voice wavered with anger that was hardly disguised.

Orion smirked. "I asked for your name. I won’t ask again."

Sylvara hesitated. She knew refusing would only bring pain—to her, to Kerry.

"Sylvara," she finally said, voice soft but firm.

"Sylvara who?" Orion pressed.

"Sylvara Nyx."

Henry frowned. "Nyx? I’ve never heard that name before."

Orion stood from his chair, pacing toward her. He was now hovering above her, observing her every move. "Where are you from?" Although his voice was soft, it had a hint of edge. "And how did you end up in the Dark Forest?"

"I was born there," Sylvara replied, triumphantly raising her chin.

Orion narrowed his eyes. "Strange. I’ve never seen anyone alive in that forest before. Only bones." His voice lowered, each word deliberate. "Lying to me will not only get your rabbit killed—it might get you killed, too."

Sylvara’s breath shuddered. "I’m not lying."

"Then explain."

She swallowed hard. "The White Lion killed my parents. They died protecting me."

Silence.

Then—

"You saw the White Lion?" Henry’s voice was laced with shock.

No one had ever seen the White Lion and lived. It was a shadow, a legend of death. Orion had hunted it for years, and yet, it never showed itself.

"How did it look?" Henry asked eagerly.

Orion shot him a sharp look. "Leave."

Henry hesitated but obeyed, stepping out without another word.

The room was silent now, just the two of them.

Orion turned back to Sylvara, watching her closely.

"So that’s why you covered yourself in Yemtema," he murmured. "You believe it protects you."

Sylvara’s hands trembled. "It does protect me."

His silver eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "Then you’ll have no use for it here."

The realization struck her all at once.

Her breath hitched.

"No," she whispered.

Orion tilted his head.

Her panic rose, raw and unrestrained. "No, please—don’t remove it!"

She struggled against her restraints, her entire body twisting as if she could force herself free.

Orion watched, intrigued.

What was she so afraid of?

And more importantly—what would happen when the Yemtema was finally gone?

Orion tilted his head. "Speak. Eat. And I’ll release it."

The silence stretched between them, thick with challenge.

Sylvara’s lips remained pressed into a thin line.

Orion smirked. Stubborn. She would rather starve than bend to his will. That should have annoyed him. Instead, it intrigued him.

"You think yourself above this," he murmured, his fingers running over the rabbit’s soft fur. "But your body will betray you soon enough."

Her fists clenched at her sides, her breathing shallow.

She was starving.

She had lasted two months without food—something no ordinary human could endure. But now? The slight tremor in her fingers, the way her throat worked as she swallowed dryly, the faint unsteadiness in her stance...

Her hunger was catching up to her.

Orion reached for the tray beside him. A simple meal—bread, roasted meat, and fruit. The scent of it filled the air. He saw the way her gaze flickered, just once, before she forced herself to look away.

Ah.

"You can refuse to eat," he said, breaking off a piece of the bread. "But why suffer needlessly?"

Again, she gave no answer.

Orion exhaled, as if in mock disappointment, and, with deliberate slowness, tightened his fingers around the rabbit’s neck.

The creature let out a tiny whimper.

Sylvara reacted—her entire body jolting forward, just a fraction, before she caught herself.

Orion grinned. There it is.

"Ah," he mused, turning the rabbit in his hands. "It seems you do have limits."

Sylvara’s breath came faster now, her eyes dark with fury. Still, she remained silent.

After giving her one last look, he took a piece of meat from the tray and held it to her lips.

She recoiled.

"I told you the terms," Orion said smoothly. "Eat, and the rabbit lives."

Sylvara's nose widened. He observed her hesitancy and the internal conflict.

Then, cautiously and slowly, she opened her mouth slightly.

Victory.

Orion pressed the morsel inside. Warm, gentle lips touched his fingers.

The contact caused her to stiffen, but she did not recoil.

Good girl.

He silently allowed her to chew, observing every motion and defiant glint that persisted in her violet eyes.

She swallowed.

"See?" With a tone that was almost mockingly soft, Orion whispered. "That wasn’t so difficult, was it?"

Despite clenching her jaw, Sylvara remained silent.

Still too proud.

Still resisting.

Orion reached for another piece—a sliver of fruit this time. He lifted it toward her, waiting.

A long pause.

Then she took it with the same grudging tightness. His gaze never left her face as he watched for any hint of weakness or a break in her well-maintained poise. He said, "You're not as unshakeable as you pretend to be." Sylvara swallowed hard and scowled at him. "You think you’ve won?" Despite being soft, her voice had a piercing edge that could cut through any material.

Orion smirked. "Haven’t I?"

Her lips pressed together again. She was trembling—not from fear, but from fury.

She hated this.

She hated him.

Good.

"Now, since you've held up your end..." Orion stated in a light, almost light-hearted tone. He flicked his wrist, allowing the rabbit to fall to the ground.

Sylvara lunged.

Not at him—but at the creature. She took it in her arms and held it close to her chest. There was a tiny release of tension in her shoulders. Orion noticed a change in her for the first time.

Not defiance.

Not anger.

But relief.

Interesting.

His amusement deepened. "You value that thing more than your own pride."

Sylvara stroked the rabbit’s fur, not looking at him. "A life is a life," she murmured.

Orion’s smile didn’t falter, but something in her words stuck.

A strange response. He had expected something sharper, something more venomous.

A life is a life.

After a lengthy minute of studying her, he got up.

"Enjoy your meal, then," he remarked out of his direction. "This won’t be the last time we speak."

Sylvara didn’t answer. She simply held the rabbit tighter.

Hours Later

With the exception of the occasional flicker of candles on stone, there was no sound in the hallways of Ebonvale's fortress. Orion strolled by himself, his mind still focused on the weird, wild animal he had kept imprisoned in his manor.

Sylvara.

She wasn’t just some lost girl from the Dark Forest.

She was something else.

Something more.

And he would find out what.

A sharp knock at his chamber doors pulled him from his thoughts.

Henry entered, his face carefully blank. "Your Grace," he said. "You have a visitor."

Orion’s brow arched. "At this hour?"

Henry hesitated.

"It’s Lord Everet Langley."

A beat of silence.

With a slow breath, Orion's veins flickered with irritation. Sylvara took another tentative mouthful, her resistance breaking down every second, while Orion's silver eyes stayed fixed on her. In silent relief, the rabbit's small breast rose and fell as it rested unharmed on the table.

Let him wait," he said smoothly.

Henry hesitated. "My lord, I—"

"Let. Him. Wait."

A message. A warning.

With a stiff bow, Henry turned and walked away. Once again, the room was sealed in quiet as the door shut behind him. Orion went back to Sylvara after letting out a breath through his nostrils.

"Looks like someone else is interested in you," he whispered.

Sylvara's grip on the bunny grew tighter. Orion grinned again, but it stopped short of his eyes. Softly, "Don’t worry, little wolf," he assured them. "I don’t share what belongs to me."

Hours later

Without saying a word, Orion walked steadily out of the room, closing the door behind him. The waiting area was dark, and the air was heavy with the smell of candle wax and old parchment. As he watched Orion enter, Lord Everet Langley was already sitting, his fingers steepled. The stiffness in his stance revealed his impatience, but his stare was unreadable. "That's true," Everet whispered. Unconcerned, Orion poured a glass of wine for himself. “What is?”

Everet’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You have captured the golden witch.”

Orion took a slow sip, his silver eyes unreadable. “And?”

Everet leaned forward, voice low but laced with warning. “You cannot keep her, Your Grace. The people will demand her execution.”

Orion set his glass down with deliberate care. He did not reply immediately.

Everet exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. “You know what she is. What she’s capable of.”

Orion’s fingers tapped an idle rhythm against the armrest. He had anticipated resistance—but not so soon. Not like this.

Everet’s eyes narrowed. “Do not let your fascination blind you. She must die.”

Orion's head tipped slightly as he thought about what to do next.

Would he bend to their will?

Or would he decide that Sylvara’s fate belonged to him alone?