The door shut behind them with a quiet thud, and before either could breathe, his lips found hers again — urgent, fevered. Eva's back met the wall, his body pressing close enough for her to feel the rapid beat of his heart through the thin fabric between them. His kiss was desperate, as if he'd been holding himself back for far too long.
Her soft gasp drew a sound from his chest — low, raw — and his mouth moved to her neck, tracing a slow path that made her shiver. His hand found the buttons of her shirt, undoing them one by one, each movement deliberate, reverent. The fabric slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor.
He pulled back only long enough to strip his own shirt off. That's when she saw it — the pale bandage over his chest.
"Eyan," she whispered, touching him lightly, "where did you get hurt?"
He caught her hand and pressed it flat against his chest. "It's nothing," he said quietly, eyes dark.
"But—"
Her words vanished under another kiss — deep, silencing, filled with need. He lifted her easily, her legs curling around him as he carried her to the bed.
When he set her down, his voice was hoarse, uncertain."I think shouldn't do it… not while you're carrying our child.
But…" His breath trembled. "I can't seem to stop myself."
Eva's hand came to his face, her thumb brushing his cheek. "Then don't," she whispered, voice breaking. "dont worry I'll be fine."
His forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling. "I'll be gentle," he murmured. "I don't want to hurt you again."
"I trust you."
Then he entered her slowly, Eyan kissed her again — deeper, slower, as though he wanted to memorize the taste of her breath. The warmth between them grew, stealing their words, their reason.
Eva's hands tightened on his shoulders, her voice a soft gasp that made his chest tighten. He moved with care, each motion deliberate, as though afraid she might shatter beneath him.
Time blurred. The room filled with the rhythm of their hearts, the faint sounds of breath and unspoken emotion.
"Eyan…" she whispered, her voice catching.
His body went tense, his breath sharp.
"Eyan…" she said again, softer this time, her tone trembling somewhere between plea and surrender.
He caught her lips in a sudden kiss, silencing her sound with a rough, desperate tenderness. Pulling back only slightly, he whispered, voice low and strained, "Eva… don't call my name like that. If you do, I'll lose my control."
She nodded, her eyes glassy under the dim light.
He brushed her hair back and kissed her again, gentler now, as if trying to steady himself.
And then, there was only movement — slow, consuming, filled with a kind of ache that felt like love and longing both. The tension built between them until it broke in a single, breathless moment.
When the world finally grew quiet again, Eyan exhaled and moved to her side, drawing her close against him. He pulled the sheets over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Thank you for the food," he murmured, his tone half-teasing, half-tender.
Eva let out a quiet laugh, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "Are you full now?"
He smiled, eyes softening. "Yes."
---
(Royal Palace, Velmoria — Afternoon)
The afternoon sun spilled through the high windows of the royal chamber, casting warm light over the scattered clothes and tangled sheets.
Eyan stood before the wardrobe, searching for one of Eva's dresses. His hand froze midair as a flash of the morning struck his mind — her flushed cheeks, her trembling breath, the sound of his name on her lips.
He pressed a hand to his face, groaning softly. "I regret it now…" he muttered under his breath. "Even though she said it was all right… I still feel ashamed of myself."
He exhaled, shaking his head. "I didn't want to leave her alone. But if I'd stayed… she would've worn that shirt all day."
His jaw tensed as he muttered, "That shirt is dangerous. She shouldn't wear it again."
Closing the wardrobe with a quiet thud, he picked up a soft cream-colored dress and started down the corridor, his thoughts still tangled between guilt and fondness.
The palace halls were quiet — until a voice broke through the silence.
"Greetings, Your Majesty."
Eyan stopped, turning toward the source. Prince Velco stood there, smiling with practiced politeness.
Eyan's tone was calm but edged. "Prince Velco. Do you need something?"
Velco stepped closer, his expression smooth as ever. "Your Majesty, I came to congratulate you."
Eyan raised a brow. "Congratulate me?"
"I heard the news," Velco said, his smile widening. "You and Her Majesty are expecting a child. Congratulations to both of you."
Eyan's grip on Eva's dress tightened.
He's the one, Eyan thought bitterly. Luca told me he was the one who forced me to release the dragon… the one who took everything from me. I want to kill him so badly.
His gaze darkened, though his voice remained steady. But the Velco of this time hasn't done anything yet. I can't kill him—not now. I just have to stay on guard.
He forced a faint smile. "Thank you for the congratulations, Prince Velco."
Velco tilted his head slightly. "Where is the Queen, if I may ask?"
Eyan's tone sharpened. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing concerning, Your Majesty," Velco replied smoothly. "I only wished to offer Her Majesty my congratulations in person."
Eyan's eyes narrowed. "I see. I'll be sure to tell Eva that you sent your regards."
Velco's smile didn't falter. "That would be fine, Your Majesty."
"Then, if you're done," Eyan said curtly, "I should take my leave."
Velco bowed respectfully. "Of course, Your Majesty."
Eyan turned and walked away, Once the sound of his footsteps faded, Velco's smile vanished.
His voice dropped to a low whisper. "Where the hell are you hiding, Eva?"
A cold glint flickered in his eyes. "I'll find you… no matter what."
---