Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 479: The Weight of Conditions

The Weight of Conditions

Alina drifted toward him with slow, deliberate grace, her boots whispering against the stone floor. The air between them carried the taste of night and tension. The wind caught strands of her pink hair and sent them dancing across her face—soft and luminous under the fractured moonlight, like silk brushed by flame.

Her eyes never left his. Those sharp, cutting eyes sliced through the dark and held Leon in place, scouring him with quiet precision. She studied the calm line of his jaw, the subtle angle of his head, the composed stillness behind those golden eyes that watched all but gave nothing back. There was strength in her posture, tempered by habit and battle-but somewhere beneath, something stirred. A question. A shadow of hurt. Possibly the ghost of a challenge.

"You happy now?" she asked finally, her voice calm but simmering beneath the surface. It wasn’t just curiosity—it was a wound masquerading as accusation. "Tell me, Leon... how do you see beyond what I show you? That fool, King Gary, never even tried to look past my mask. He only saw what I wanted him to."

Leon’s lips curved-just barely. A restrained, knowing smile that the moonlight caught and turned into something sharper. There was amusement in his eyes, quiet but deliberate, as though he’d already unraveled more than she’d ever admit.

"Let’s just say," he murmured, voice low, smooth, and unhurried, "I have my ways." He held her gaze, letting the words linger between them before continuing, "But we need to talk about your last condition. You wanted attention, didn’t you? Then you’ll have it. Your terms... they deserve to be understood—and respected."

The change in her eyes was instantaneous. The pink deepened to a fiercer hue, alive and dangerous. His mention of that condition struck deep, rekindling the memory of what she’d promised-and the power she’d risked to keep it. Every heartbeat brought the scene back: the wager, the surrender, the reckless intimacy of trust.

Her breath hitched softly before she closed the last bit of distance between them, her steps soundless now. He could feel the warmth of her against the chill in the air, her scent-sweet, defiant, and edged with adrenaline.

The tension between them was sharp enough to bleed through the silence.

"Then tell me," she whispered, her voice low and tight, trembling with something that was neither anger nor fear, but a painful need to understand. "Tell me what you really understand, Leon. Why reveal me at all? Why strip away what I chose to hide?"

The words hung in the air, delicate and burning, like a secret neither of them had the courage to keep any longer.

Leon’s gaze softened, though not in mercy, in a kind of quiet fascination. His smile curved, slow and deliberate, carrying a spark of mischief that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Because," he said, voice deep and unhurried, "for your last wish... I haven’t agreed yet."

The statement hung between them, teasing, dangerous, its unspoken weight that of a challenge and something far, far more intimate. The atmosphere around them seemed to vibrate, nearly alive, like the hush before lightning splits the sky.

Her eyes flashed, cold and defiant. "Then kill me," she whispered, her tone cracking, but her will unbreakable. "If that’s what it takes. But I will not bow, not even to you." Her voice shook, not from weakness, but from all she did not say. "We need discussion, Leon—not blind obedience." She faltered for a heartbeat, her expression flickering with the ache of a pain too human to conceal. "Even a ruler like you... even someone as good as Aden...

The name slipped from her lips like a wound reopening. The night seemed to inhale, and the stillness grew heavy. Energy shimmered faintly across her hands, delicate ribbons of pink light that pulsed with the rhythm of her heartbeat. Each spark hissed softly, painting her face in flashes of fragile brilliance. She looked at once divine and doomed, like a goddess caught between love and fury.

Leon didn’t bat an eye. He merely cocked his head to one side, his calm so complete it bordered on unnerving. Yet beneath that control, he could feel it-the faint pressure of her power, brushing against his senses like a living thing, intimate as standing close enough to a storm to taste the electricity on the air.

"Why such desperation to die?" His voice was low, steady, a quiet contrast to the chaos sparking around her. "Let me finish, Alina. Let me explain what I intend.

Her breath hitched as her shoulders tightened. For a moment, her composure slipped before she pulled it back together, her spine straightening, her chin rising in quiet defiance. The light around her dulled somewhat, even though her gaze never strayed from his.

"Go on," she said finally, her voice calm but laced with restrained fire.

In that stillness-between her unyielding pride and his unwavering certainty-the night itself seemed to hold its breath.

Leon drew in a long, measured breath before speaking again. "I said—and I’ll repeat this clearly—I can’t agree to your last condition completely. If I do, I lose something vital... something I might need later." His golden eyes were glinting faintly in the dim light, steady and unreadable. "I can’t bind myself entirely. But I won’t trap your soldiers or harm your people either." He paused, his tone deepening with gravity.

"However, I need one thing. If things get desperate-if it gets to the point that lives are hanging by a thread-and one of my wives or I need to act, I’ll use everything in my repertoire. I won’t let anyone die, but I will definitely act. In return, you and your soldiers are to swear absolute loyalty-no betrayal, total obedience-to me under a slave contract.

And to seal that, I’ll sign in blood. No one will be forced. Only those who choose.

He raised his hand slightly, tracing an invisible line through the air. The motion was calm, deliberate-but sharp enough that the air itself seemed to tremble, as though sensing the edge of the unseen blade he invoked.