Since you had insisted on being used against The Blacks, Aegon’s fury had reached new heights. The war was already tearing everything apart, but your decision to play a part in their schemes had cut him deeper than anything else. His trust in you was fragile, tested by the ongoing chaos, but this? This felt like a betrayal. His thoughts were clouded with the idea that you were being manipulated, that the very ones who sought to destroy his house might use you as their weapon. The rage seethed within him, and the Red Keep itself seemed to pulse with his anger.

“Do you think I’d let them take you?” Aegon demanded, his voice fierce, each word like a blade meant to pierce through any notion of doubt. His eyes bore into yours, his gaze unwavering, burning with the intensity of his emotions. “You’re mine, and I’ll burn them all before they touch a hair on your head.”

His presence was suffocating as he stepped closer, the tension thick enough to choke on. The air between you was sharp with his possessiveness, a possessiveness that went beyond the bounds of love and care, twisting into something darker. He was seeing red, his jealousy and anger blending into a single storm, his words coming out like a promise—a threat to anyone who might dare harm you.

“I will not allow it,” he growled, his chest heaving with each breath. “Not for a moment. Not for a second.”

Despite the depth of his words, despite the wild storm inside him, you knew his concern came from a place of fear—a fear of losing you, a fear of having you turned against him in this war. His love for you was a weapon in itself, one he wielded fiercely, and right now, it was blinding him.