My Ruin to You - Chapter 69

“…I’ll think about where to cling after I wake up. Right now, I can’t do anything.”

Roseline sniffled, her nose stinging for no reason, and carefully pulled her hand free from his grip. She knew running from the answer was cowardly, but for now, avoidance was the wiser choice. Maybe it was the fever, or maybe she was just too exhausted—her willpower had melted into something weak and pliant, and if she wasn’t careful, she might end up clinging to him, begging him to let her live.

“If you’ve got the luxury to worry about pride, why not use your magic first?”

“What pride? That’s not it.”

“Then what? Is being by my side worse than death? More horrifying?”

“If you put it so extremely, how am I supposed to answer? If I say yes, you’ll get angry. If I say no, you’ll push harder.”

Roseline shot him a glare as she grumbled, and Valen, perched on the edge of the bed, let out a short laugh.

“Fair enough.”

Then his hand slid around her neck. At first, it was almost gentle—soothing, even—his fingers tracing the overheated skin of her nape as if to cool her down. But only for a moment. Without warning, he yanked her forward and crushed his mouth against hers.

“Hng—?!”

Roseline gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders as she stiffened, her neck straining against the sudden pull. A pitiful resistance. Instead of forcing her closer, Valen shoved her backward, pinning her beneath him as the iron bedframe groaned in protest. Her eyes flew wide, pupils dilating—but before she could even process the shift, he bit down sharply on her lip.

One of his nasty habits.

“Mm—! Hn…!”

His tongue pushed in, thick and relentless, mapping every inch of her mouth with a greed that left her dizzy. He didn’t even close his eyes. His sharp gaze stayed fixed on her, studying every twitch of her expression, lingering on the flush spreading across her lids.

“Hah—! Nh…!”

The infected outside, the people below—none of it mattered anymore. There was no room to breathe, no chance to pull away. Each kiss was stealing her air until her lungs burned. Every time she tried to turn her head, he chased her, swallowing every whimper, every gasp, until frustration had him gripping her jaw, forcing her mouth open wider, plunging deeper.

She’d never heard of anyone dying from a kiss, but in this moment, she could imagine herself becoming the first.

Cornered, Roseline finally activated her magic—a pulse of healing energy radiating from her skin. The moment it brushed against him, Valen’s mouth softened, his lips curving in satisfaction. As if that had been his goal all along, he pulled back leisurely, licking his own swollen lips before putting distance between them.

“Still burning up.”

Valen pressed a hand to Roseline’s forehead and clicked his tongue. It seemed he’d pushed her to the brink of suffocation just to force her to use her self-healing magic. Not that she felt even remotely grateful. Roseline scrubbed at her tingling lips with the back of her hand and glared.

“Disappointed? Tough luck. You can’t even handle a little tongue without squirming—what more did you expect?”

“You’re insane—”

“Watch your mouth.”

Frustratingly, she had no retort. Status and hierarchy dictated even this. Roseline shot him a sharp look, but Valen only seemed amused by her defiance, stretching lazily as he sat up.

“Think hard.”

“……”

“But no matter what you come up with, your answer is me, Roseline.”

Hyperaware of his gaze burning into the back of her head, she yanked the blanket over herself. Just as the crisp scent of freshly laundered fabric enveloped her, a low chuckle drifted through the air.

◇◇◇

It had snowed all night.

Everything outside was frozen, the charred ruins and collapsed walls blanketed in white. Under normal circumstances, they might have waited for the snow to melt, savoring the quiet of winter—but their situation was anything but normal. The guild master insisted they move before the snow compacted into ice, forcing an early departure. If they hurried, they could reach the city gates by nightfall. The knights were relieved, but Roseline, still wrestling with her thoughts, stayed silent.

Her mind was a mess, but the conclusion was clear:

First, she was trapped in an absurd farce—first an engagement she hadn’t known about, now a relationship she hadn’t realized was still ongoing.

Second, if she accepted that relationship, she’d survive.

A plague-tainted criminal becoming a grand duke’s consort would cause an uproar, but Valen would gladly silence the outcry. The open criticism might vanish, but behind his back, they’d claw and bite—just like during their academy days.