The blood had barely cooled on the throne room floor.
But already, the court was stirring. Whispers slithered through the halls like smoke through cracks—uncertain, accusing, afraid. The high demons who had once bowed in awe now eyed the queen's crown with suspicion… and the king beside her with envy.
They didn't speak it out loud.
Not yet.
But Lina felt it.
Like frostbite under her skin.
Like the fire within her coiling, warning, waiting.
—
Andra stood in the war chamber, eyes flicking across the room of generals and courtiers. "You're quiet today," he said coldly. "Say it."
A warlord finally stepped forward—Vornath, one of the oldest still standing.
"You've made her soft," he said with a low sneer. "She used to burn for power. Now she bleeds for love."
Andra didn't react.
Until he stepped forward and said, calmly, "Say that again."
But Vornath didn't need to.
He dropped something to the floor: a chain forged in old hellfire. A challenge. A claim. Ancient demon law.
Trial by Dominion.
If Andra wanted to keep his crown—and stand at Lina's side—he'd have to fight for it.
—
Lina heard the news and her fury lit the tower. "I'll kill him before he touches you."
But Andra, ever still, ever hers, cupped her face gently. "You can't. If you interfere, it proves them right."
She clenched her fists. "You're not just my king. You're mine."
"I know," he said, voice low, "and I'll show them why."
—
The arena was ancient. Older than even the first rebellion. Demons crowded the stone rings, hungry for blood. For a king's fall. Or a lover's victory.
Lina stood above it all, cloaked in shadow and flame, her eyes never leaving him.
Andra stepped into the circle, shirtless, unarmed, save for the mark of her bond burning across his chest.
Vornath laughed when he saw it.
But the laughter died quickly.
Because Andra didn't just fight.
He unleashed.
Blade or no, he moved like darkness with form—deadly, focused, brutal. Every strike was a reminder: he had been made for war long before he had been shaped by love.
He didn't fight for pride.
He fought for her.
And when he pinned Vornath, blade summoned in one flash of rage and drive, he looked up at the crowd and said, voice cold and sharp as flame:
"Love didn't make me weak.
It made me ruthless."
And the court—watching, breathless—believed him.
—
Later, in the silence of their chambers, Lina traced the bruises across his ribs. "You didn't have to fight for me."
He caught her hand. "I didn't fight for you. I fought for us."
And then he pulled her close, lips brushing her throat, voice dark and full of heat. "But next time, let them challenge you."
She smiled against his mouth. "Next time, I'll burn their blood in their veins."