The silence that followed felt like it sucked the air straight out of the room.
Vyan's hand froze mid‑air, spoon hovering above his bowl. His wine-red eyes darkened, expression hardening in a flash.
"Why the fuck not?" he said sharply, the low anger in his voice slicing through the softness of the moment. "Why won't you go back with me?"
Iyana's gaze didn't waver. She knew this side of him—the one that bristled when things didn't go his way, the one that burned too hot when it came to people he loved. He was all fire, all heart, and if she didn't choose her words carefully, he'd storm the world before listening to reason.
So she spoke gently, her voice calm like the tide. "Vee... if I go back with you, can you imagine the long-term consequences of this?" Her eyes searched his face, trying to soothe the storm already building behind his furrowed brows. "You might save me. But do you see the trouble you'd be throwing our empire into?"
