Penelope’s POV

“Of course, my lady,” she said, her voice just a little unsure. “It’s down this hall, third door on the right. Large gold handles. You can’t miss it.”

“I never do,” I replied, giving her a wink as I sauntered past.

Every step I took echoed with confidence.

I wasn’t just walking to his room, I was walking into his mind.

Again.

I reached the third door on the right just like the maid said.

Gold handles, dark wood, tall and intimidating.

Like the man behind them.

I didn’t knock.

Daemon and I had already crossed that line. I pushed the door open and stepped in like I belonged there.

And I did.

The room smelled like cedar, leather, and something warm and masculine. Candles flickered on the high shelves, shadows dancing across stone walls. A large bed sat untouched, dark sheets pulled tight. But he wasn’t resting.

No, he was standing by the weapon rack, sleeves rolled up, sliding blades into place.

God.

Even from behind, he looked dangerous.

His shoulders were broad, back straight, jaw sharp from the side. There was tension in the way he moved, controlled, focused, a storm in silence.

His long black coat hung nearby, and beside it…

Silver-tipped arrows. Custom-forged daggers.

Armor glinting in the low light.

He didn’t turn. Didn’t speak.

But he felt me.

I knew he did.

I closed the door behind me gently, the click loud in the quiet room.

“Well, aren’t we busy,” I said, letting my voice carry—smooth and teasing. “Someone’s packing like he’s heading off to war.”

Daemon paused only slightly but didn’t answer.

Still mad.

Or trying to stay mad.

Good.

I moved further in, my feet tapping softly against the stone floor. The hem of my short red dress swayed just under my hips, catching his eye when he finally glanced over.

“Didn’t know we were allowed to play with such sharp toys,” I murmured, walking toward the table he was arranging. “Or is this just how you prep for a royal visit these days?”

He looked at me then.

Dark eyes. Quiet fire.

And gods, that heat.

But I didn’t give him time to speak.

I bent slightly over the table, inspecting one of the glinting daggers like I cared about its weight. The move was subtle, but the result? Wicked.

The dress hiked higher, showing the full length of my thighs and the smooth curve of my ass. I knew he saw. And I knew he was looking.

I didn’t smirk. Not this time.

This wasn’t seduction, it was strategy.

“So,” I said casually, tracing a finger over the polished blade, “Northern Watters, hmm? That’s where you’re off to?”

His silence didn’t stop me.

“I hear it’s not the kind of place you enter without purpose,” I went on, picking up a leather holster and pretending to admire it. “Secluded. Cold. Full of secrets. Just like you.”

Still no answer.

I turned just a little, eyes meeting his. “Do you always carry this many weapons… or are you expecting someone not to play nice?”

His jaw tightened. He was still pissed, still simmering but his eyes flicked over my body more than once. He was trying hard. Too hard. That meant I still had him.

I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice, my words silkier now.

“I’m just asking… because if you’re planning on burning a kingdom down, I’d hate to show up underdressed.”

He clenched his jaw and finally muttered, “Penelope.”

“Mmh?” I blinked, all innocent.

“Not now.”

I tilted my head. “Why? Afraid I’ll distract you?”

He said nothing.

I slowly ran a hand down my thigh, pretending to brush something off. “I thought you’d want company on such a long ride. Or did you plan on riding into danger with only your blades to keep you warm?” I raised a brow.

His eyes darkened.

Ah. There it is.

Right on target.

I stepped back a little and walked around to his side, finally softening my tone just enough.

“I’m not here to fight,” I said, my voice low, smooth. “I’m just wondering… after everything that happened last night, are you still planning to ride out alone?”

A flicker in his expression. A crack.

But then he picked up the final blade and locked it into place, his movements sharp and precise.

“I’m leaving soon,” he said, voice low. “And it’s not a journey for you, and I’m not riding alone.”

I shrugged. “Then maybe I’ll just follow.”

He gave me a long, unreadable stare.

I didn’t flinch.

I walked to the edge of the table, fingers trailing near one of the hilts. “You said it’s not a journey for me. But I don’t remember asking for your permission.”

His hand moved swiftly, faster than I expected as he reached for a smaller dagger and drove it into the table with a sharp thunk, the blade vibrating against the wood.

His voice dropped lower, darker. “Then maybe you should remember who the hell you’re speaking to.”

My spine stayed straight, my chin high. But inside… something fluttered. Fast and tight in my chest. I swallowed the fear, buried it beneath my pride. I wouldn’t show weakness. Not to him. Not now.

I took a small breath, then let out a soft, almost careless sigh. “I’m just… bored, Daemon.” I turned my eyes toward him. “There’s nothing to do here but eat, bathe, and be watched like a caged pet.”

He raised a brow. “You just got here yesterday, Penelope. Already bored?”

I shrugged, a hint of mischief curling at my lips. “I’m not used to doing nothing.”

He looked at me for a long moment, like he was peeling back my words, my tone, trying to see what was real and what was a game.

Then I stepped closer. My voice softened, almost like a whisper. “Alpha, let me come with you. I promise to be quiet. I won’t cause any trouble.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh? Now you’re asking for permission?” A smirk played at the edge of his mouth.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “If that’s what it takes to follow, then yes I’m asking.”

He leaned back, arms crossed, the smirk never quite leaving. “Don’t call me Alpha, Daemon is fine.”

He said nothing.

I asked, lifting a brow. “Is that a yes?”

He opened his mouth but I didn’t let him answer.

I turned before he could speak, tossing him one last glance over my shoulder. “I’ll be ready… whether you want me or not.”

Then I walked out, hips swaying, the sound of my feet echoing in his chamber.

My heartbeat thrummed beneath my ribs. I didn’t know if he’d allow it, or stop me…

But one thing was certain.

I’d already taken up space in his plans

The moment I stepped out of his room, the air hit differently.

Cold. Heavy.

I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until I was halfway down the hall. My heart was pounding in my chest like war drums. Gods… I hadn’t expected him to sound so commanding. So final. That blade in the table still echoed in my mind.

I pressed a palm to my chest.

I was scared. But I wasn’t going to fall apart. I knew where to draw the line with a man like Daemon. One wrong move and I could lose everything. And yet I still wanted to follow him.

I rushed to my room, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it for a beat. Deep breaths, Penelope. You asked for this.

Moving quickly, I threw open my trunk and packed the few things I thought I might need, essentials only. Well…mostly. I couldn’t go anywhere looking like a ghost. I shoved in a black scarf, a comb, a small vial of oil, and alright two backup dresses. Just in case.

Then I pulled out the black leather dress.

Short, tight, bold. It hugged every curve and screamed, Don’t forget me.

I paired it with knee-high black boots, sleek and silent.

My hair went up into a messy bun, a few strands falling down to frame my face. I paused in front of the mirror.

Dark. Clean. Deadly.

Just like the night we were walking into.

Grabbing my small bag, I heard movement outside, metal clanking, low voices and boots thudding against stone. The soldiers were getting ready.

This is it.

I hurried downstairs, trying not to overthink it. But as soon as I stepped out into the courtyard, all heads turned.

Every. Single. One.

I nearly missed a step.

I wasn’t used to that kind of attention. Not dressed like this. Not walking into a mission I wasn’t even invited to.

Daemon stood in front of a row of soldiers, barking out orders. His voice was sharp, his posture powerful.

And then he saw me.

The shock on his face was priceless. His brows pulled low, like he was trying to figure out what the hell I thought I was doing.

I held my chin high and kept walking, straight to him.

I didn’t look away. I didn’t break.

He muttered something under his breath and dismissed the soldiers with a wave of his hand. They climbed into the armored truck—engine humming low, ready for the ride.

And then it was just us.

I stopped right in front of him, legs steady but my heart shaking inside my chest. “Are… we set to go?” I asked, voice quieter than I planned.

He looked me up and down, my boots, my bag and my face.

Then he said, “It’s just a day. Why the hell did you pack so much?”

“They’re not that many,” I said quickly, trying to laugh it off. “Just… girly stuff.”

“This isn’t a journey for girly stuff.”