Catching up, Ajax had said with a smile in front of all those guests. Just like old times.

As soon as the door closes, though, he wastes no time to corner you against the wooden surface, suffocating you with his presence. He’s taller than you remember, towering over you in a way he hadn't years ago.

“Had fun playing house, did you?” he asks, low and grating. His eyes, dark and stormy, mirror the intensity you had glimpsed earlier across the ballroom, but you couldn't dwell on it then; you had your own family to tend to, after all.

When he departed on his mission in the name of the Tsaritsa, the Harbinger promised you his heart and a future together. Returning to find you married felt like the world had spun off its axis.

Was it a love match? The question races through his mind again and again, yet having you this close compels him to kiss you senseless, relishing that fleeting moment where you let him, latching onto the hope that, against all odds, you still desire him the same.

This. This is how things should be, Ajax thinks as he holds onto your face like a lifeline. You were his before anyone else’s. Surely, this marriage is damnation, and you’ve been longing for his salvation.