CROWN OF FORBIDDEN HEARTS
Chapter 40: MELT IN HIS EMBRACE

Chapter 40: 40: MELT IN HIS EMBRACE

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Dear reader, before you go ahead to read this Chapter, please look for the song SWEET HEAT LIGHTNING by GREGORY ALAN ISAKOV, listen to it while reading this Chapter, the song inspired the creation of this and also enhances your reading experience. ily.

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Zara lay beneath him, her body trembling, her mind caught in a storm of agony and betrayal. The love bind spell was working its dark magic, twisting her emotions into something unrecognizable, something unbearable. She wanted to resist, to fight him off, to scream that she would never be his. But she couldn’t. The spell had dug too deep, infecting her soul like a poison.

Alaric hovered above her, his piercing eyes watching her with a mixture of triumph and hunger. He brushed a strand of hair from her damp forehead, his touch slow and deliberate. There was no tenderness in it—only the satisfaction of a man who had conquered what he believed to be his.

"You look so beautiful when you surrender," he murmured.

Zara shuddered, her fingers curling into the sheets beneath her. "This isn’t surrender," she whispered. "It’s torment."

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "Torment?" He ran his thumb over her lower lip, pressing just enough to make her flinch. "You say that, and yet—" His other hand trailed down her arm, her waist, her thigh. "Your body betrays you, my queen."

Zara bit her lip, willing herself not to react. She would not give him the satisfaction. She would not let him see how deeply the spell had ruined her. But it was too late. The moment he touched her, the craving began, a deep, aching need that did not belong to her, that did not come from her heart but from the cruel magic he had forced upon her.

A sob caught in her throat.

She hated this. She hated herself.

Alaric pressed his lips against the shell of her ear. "The spell is stronger now, Lysandra. You can fight it all you want, but in the end, you will always want me." He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his expression unreadable. "Say it."

Her jaw clenched. "I won’t."

His fingers tightened around her wrist, pinning her down. "Say it."

"No."

A flicker of something dangerous flashed in his eyes. Zara barely had a moment to react before he caught her chin in his grip, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Then I’ll make you."

His lips crashed against hers, hungry, bruising, dominating. Zara let out a muffled cry, struggling against him, but his grip was unrelenting. The fire from the spell surged through her veins, making her weak, making her want him in a way that sickened her. She pushed at his chest, but her body was already betraying her, melting under the force of his kiss.

When he finally pulled back, he looked down at her with something like satisfaction. "I could do this all night, you know."

She turned her face away, swallowing her rage.

He chuckled. "Oh, my queen." His fingers trailed along her wrist before gripping it lightly, tilting her head back to look at him. "Do you know why I made the spell stronger?"

Zara glared at him, hatred burning in her gaze. "Because you are a monster?."

Alaric smiled. "No," he whispered. "Because I recently found out that you’re still thinking about My brother."

Her heart stopped.

"I mean I suspected it, but I didn’t pay much mind to it because I have given you everything, Love, Pleasure and everything my soul can, and yet..." he said as his face became slightly dangerous "you betray me"

Alaric’s expression darkened. "Even now, after everything, you still mourn for Erythian." He trailed a hand down her chest, his fingers ghosting over her racing heartbeat. "You think I don’t see it? That I don’t feel it?" His voice was dangerously low, a storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. "I could kill you for that alone."

Zara’s breath caught.

"But I won’t," he murmured, pressing his lips to her temple in mock tenderness. "Because I would rather watch you break."

Her stomach twisted.

"You can’t win, Alaric," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "No spell, no power, no amount of cruelty will ever make me love you."

Alaric studied her for a long moment. Then he smirked, brushing his knuckles over her cheek.

"Love?" He laughed softly, darkly. "Oh, Zara. Who said I needed you to love me?"

She stiffened.

"I don’t need your love," he whispered against her lips. "My love for you is enough, it can carry us both...I just need your submission."

And with that, he took her again, this time slowly, deliberately, as if he was proving a point.

As if he was branding her.

Tears slid silently down her temples as she lay there.

This was it.

This was how she would break.

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The grand halls of the palace were silent, save for the distant murmurs of the guards stationed outside. Zara sat near the ornate vanity in her chambers, the soft glow of candlelight flickering against the polished glass. Her heart pounded, anticipation thrumming through her veins. She had waited for this moment for days, desperate for any news, any sign that the rebellion was moving forward.

A faint knock echoed through the heavy doors. Zara inhaled sharply, composing herself before rising and moving toward the entrance. She cracked it open just enough to see the hooded figure standing beyond the threshold.

"Lady Vaelor," she whispered urgently. "Come in. Quickly."

The older woman stepped inside, her face shadowed by the dim lighting. There was a heaviness in her posture, a silent message that made Zara’s pulse quicken. She shut the door and turned to her.

"Did you find them?" Zara asked, her voice barely above a breath.

Lady Vaelor hesitated, glancing around the room. "We cannot speak freely, Your Majesty. Scarlet has eyes everywhere."

Zara’s lips pressed into a thin line. Scarlet—the ever-present snake that slithered through Alaric’s court, watching, waiting, ensuring the queen never had a moment of true privacy. Zara knew that if Scarlet so much as sensed something out of place, she would report it to Alaric without hesitation.

"We’ll have to be careful," Zara murmured, pacing. Her mind worked swiftly, calculating the best way to throw Scarlet off their scent.

Then, an idea struck her.

"Scarlet enjoys flaunting her position in the palace," she said thoughtfully. "She thrives on feeling indispensable. If we make her believe she’s needed elsewhere, urgently, she will leave us alone."

Lady Vaelor lifted an eyebrow. "And how do we make that happen?"

Zara’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. "We feed her vanity."

Moments later, Zara rang for a servant, issuing a carefully crafted request. "Summon Scarlet. Tell her I require her wisdom on a matter of grave importance."

It did not take long. Scarlet entered the chamber with an air of superiority, her long crimson robes swaying as she approached the queen. "You needed me, my queen?"

Zara turned, feigning a troubled expression, as though something deeply concerning weighed on her mind. "Yes, Scarlet. I need your guidance. I have been feeling... unwell." She hesitated for effect, watching Scarlet’s eyes glint with intrigue. "There are moments I feel as if the spell is... wavering and it begins to hurt me for nothing. I cannot understand it, but I need you to check it, just in case."

Scarlet straightened, pride swelling in her chest. "Of course, my queen. If you feel any form of inconsistency, I must act immediately."

Zara cast her gaze downward, feigning shame. "I did not want to bother Alaric with it. He has so much to deal with already."

That was the final push. Scarlet’s lips curled with satisfaction, already envisioning herself at Alaric’s side, whispering into his ear like the trusted advisor she wished to be. "You did the right thing by coming to me first," she purred. "I will need time to consult my books and prepare a strengthening ritual."

Zara nodded, letting relief flood her face. "Thank you, Scarlet. You always know what to do."

Scarlet preened under the compliment. "I will begin immediately." With a flick of her robes, she strode out of the room, vanishing down the corridor.

The moment the door clicked shut, Zara turned sharply to Lady Vaelor. "We don’t have much time."

Lady Vaelor pulled back her hood, stepping closer. "The resistance has taken root, my queen. But it is fragile. Many still fear Alaric’s wrath."

Zara’s chest tightened. She had expected as much. "And the council?"

Lady Vaelor’s gaze darkened. "Divided. Some hate him, but they are not yet brave enough to act. They need a symbol, a leader."

Zara clenched her fists. She had once been that leader. A queen who ruled with wisdom and strength, not fear and bloodshed. But now, she was bound, caged within a love spell designed to break her will.

"I will give them something to believe in again," she swore. "But we must be careful. If Alaric suspects anything, we are all dead."

A sharp knock sounded at the door. Both women froze.

Zara’s heart thundered.

"Zara," a deep, familiar voice called.

Alaric.

Lady Vaelor reacted instantly, backing toward the servant’s door. Zara hurried to fix her expression, pushing all emotion beneath a mask of obedience.

The door opened, and Alaric stepped inside, his sharp gaze sweeping the room. He lingered on her face, his brows knitting together in suspicion.

"What were you doing?"

Zara forced a soft smile. "Waiting for you."

Alaric studied her, then reached out, tilting her chin up. His touch sent a sickening warmth through her body, another cruel trick of the spell.

"Were you?" His voice was quiet, but laced with warning.

Zara swallowed down her revulsion, leaning into his touch. "Of course."

For a long moment, Alaric said nothing. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

"Good," he murmured, before pulling her against him.

Zara forced herself to melt into his embrace, knowing that in the shadows, war was brewing, and she would be ready.

she signals to lady vaelor using her eyes and lady vaelor let out a not so obvious knod of agreement