Valen took a deep breath as he stepped into the cool night air, making his way through the quiet streets of the city. The palace felt stifling after two days of confinement, the weight of his father's orders heavy on his shoulders. He needed to check on Arya, to ensure she was safe after everything that had happened. The guards were on high alert, but he had learned to navigate the shadows, slipping through alleys and using back entrances to avoid detection.

When he reached Arya's house, he hesitated for a moment, anxiety swirling in his stomach. Would she be alright? Before he could overthink it, he knocked on the door, and it swung open almost instantly.

Arya stood before him, her golden eyes wide with surprise and relief. For a moment, all the tension from the last few days melted away, and he was struck by the raw emotion on her face. Without a word, she yanked him inside, shutting the door behind him.

As she wrapped her arms around him tightly, Valen felt a rush of warmth flood through him. He was taken aback but quickly returned the embrace, holding her close. The world outside faded, leaving just the two of them in that small moment. But as they pulled back, lingering gazes turned into an unspoken acknowledgment of the kiss they had shared—an electric tension that hung between them. Valen's gaze flickered to her lips, and he felt that familiar desire welling up again, threatening to overwhelm his focus.

Arya broke the silence first, her voice shaking slightly as she thanked him profusely. "I can't believe you came here. I thought...I thought I'd be caught and..." Her voice trailed off, and her relief washed over him like a balm. "I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. Your father must be furious."

"He is," Valen admitted with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "He has the entire city on lockdown." He winced as Arya's gaze fell on the bruises she had left on his arms, the evidence of their earlier encounter. "But I'm not fragile, Arya. You didn't break me," he assured her, seeing the flicker of regret in her eyes.

"Still," she murmured, her brow furrowing slightly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Valen smiled, hoping to ease her concern. "I'm tougher than I look. Besides, we need to focus on what's important right now." He turned serious, glancing at the scattered notes and papers that covered her small table. "Where do we start?"

Arya nodded, her expression shifting as they both leaned over the papers. "We have about three weeks until the ball," she said, her tone steely. "We need to figure out who we can trust and how Marissa is involved, if she even is."

Valen shook his head, his heart heavy with the thought of his sister. "I still don't believe Marissa is involved in this. She wouldn't..." His voice faltered, the doubt creeping in. "But we have to figure out who this 'Viper' is. If they're behind the plot against the empire, we need to stop them."

They began piecing together the information they had gathered, going over the notes and discussing the attendees at the upcoming ball. Valen listed the various kings and queens who would be present, recalling their allegiances and rivalries. "We could use this ball to our advantage, to gather intel. If we know who's working with the Viper, we can catch them off guard."

Arya nodded, her eyes sharp with determination. "We'll need a plan for that. We can scout the ballroom layout and decide where to strike from. But we should also consider returning to the safe house. There might be more clues or information there."

"Good idea," Valen replied, feeling a renewed sense of purpose as they worked together. "We can go at dawn. It's risky, but we can't let fear dictate our actions."

As they strategized, Valen couldn't shake the memory of the kiss. It lingered in his mind, intertwining with their mission and the tension that hung in the air between them. But for now, they had a greater challenge to face, one that would test their resolve and their trust in each other. Together, they would unravel the truth behind the Viper and save Marissa, no matter the cost.

~

As the days turned into a blur of late nights and hushed conversations, Valen found himself drawn deeper into Arya's world, a whirlwind of strategy and shared secrets. They worked tirelessly from her home, transforming the small space into a makeshift command center. Each night, he snuck away from the palace, carefully navigating the guards and the chaos his father had stirred in the city, all for a chance to be with her.

Every moment they spent together felt charged with an energy Valen couldn't quite place. Arya was unlike anyone he had ever known—sharp, quick-witted, and unyieldingly brave. As they reviewed their plans and strategies, he couldn't help but admire her fierce determination. She was undoubtedly one of the smartest people he had ever encountered, and her insights often illuminated angles he hadn't considered.

"Wait," Arya said one evening, her brow furrowing as she studied a map they had spread across the table. "We didn't check the study thoroughly. There could be more clues hidden in there."

Valen nodded, impressed by her diligence. "You're right. We'll need to go back there and be thorough."

As they worked side by side, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Valen noticed how every time Arya laughed at his jokes, it felt like a little victory, a softening of the walls that separated them. He found himself watching her intently, taking in every smile, every laugh, and even the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing the delicate curve of her neck.

To show his appreciation, he began to bring her little treats—chocolate pastries and coffee, reminders of those moments they had shared at breakfast with his family. He recalled how her eyes lit up the first time she tasted the sweet pastries, and he couldn't resist the urge to recreate that joy. He reveled in her laughter, the way it rang out in the otherwise quiet space, and how she swatted his arm playfully when he teased her.

"Stop staring at me like that," she teased one evening, her nose scrunched up in that adorable way that made his heart race.

"I can't help it," Valen replied with a grin, trying to mask the truth. "You're just so captivating, it's hard to look away."

Her laughter echoed in the room, and he felt the warmth of her presence wrap around him. He craved her scent, a sweet blend of warm vanilla and roses that seemed to linger in the air long after she had moved past him. Each time she brushed against him, whether it was to hand him a note or to move something on the table, his pulse quickened, and the desire to pull her closer became an insatiable urge.

Yet, in the back of his mind, a voice cautioned him. This woman was an assassin, sent to kill him. He had to remind himself of the danger that lingered beneath her alluring exterior. He fought to keep his affections at bay, wary of the path he was treading. Yet, every lingering glance and gentle touch made it increasingly difficult to suppress what was blooming between them.

"Are you sure we can avoid that masked woman?" Valen asked one night, trying to bring the conversation back to the mission, though his focus was waning.

Arya tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "She's a wildcard, but if we stay vigilant, we can avoid her. We know the layout of the city better than she does. But we have to be careful. She's dangerous."

He nodded, appreciative of her strategic mind, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss they had shared, the way her lips had felt against his. It was an intoxicating thought, and as he watched her now, her brow furrowed in concentration, he found himself wanting to close the distance between them again.

Valen took a deep breath, reminding himself of the stakes at hand. They needed to focus, not only on saving Marissa but on uncovering the truth behind the Viper and whoever was plotting against them. As they continued to plan, he couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, there would be a moment to explore the uncharted territory of their relationship when the danger had passed. But for now, he would keep his feelings guarded, even as they grew stronger with each passing day.

~

As Arya worked alongside Valen in the small confines of her home, she couldn't shake the overwhelming emotions that swirled within her. Each late-night meeting felt like a precarious dance, a balance between danger and desire that threatened to pull her under. They were in the midst of plotting how to save his sister, Marissa, and yet all she could think about was the kiss they had shared, the way it had felt—urgent, desperate, and somehow incredibly right.

She'd been so terrified in the dungeons, curled up in that corner, feeling more broken than she ever had before. But Valen had come for her, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest. It was a moment she had never expected, and it shattered the walls she had built around her heart. When he kissed her, it felt like everything she had fought against—the pain, the betrayal, the darkness—was washed away for just that fleeting moment.

Now, as they pored over notes and plans, the memory of that kiss haunted her. Every lingering touch he offered felt like a spark igniting within her, drawing her closer to him. She fought against it, knowing that she shouldn't feel this way. Valen was the Crown Prince, heir to the throne, and she was the assassin sent to kill him. It was madness to let her heart get tangled up in this; it was a weakness she could not afford.

Still, as she bent over to grab another candle from the small shelf, she felt his hand brush against her hip, steadying her. A shiver ran down her spine at the contact, and she swallowed hard, trying to rein in the feelings that surged within her. It was only a touch, but it felt so much more—comforting, warm, and utterly confusing. The way his fingers lingered just a moment longer than necessary sent a thrill through her, one that she quickly chastised herself for.

"Stop it, Arya," she muttered under her breath as she straightened up, forcing her focus back to the task at hand. She needed to keep her head clear, to think strategically, but every time Valen smiled or laughed, her resolve crumbled just a little bit more. How was she supposed to concentrate when every interaction seemed to deepen the bond between them?

"Are you sure we can avoid that masked woman?" he asked, pulling her back to their mission.

She nodded, trying to keep her voice steady. "She's a wildcard, but if we stay vigilant, we can avoid her. We know the layout of the city better than she does. But we have to be careful. She's dangerous."

As Valen spoke, Arya felt a rush of affection for him—his determination, his kindness, the way he seemed to care for her safety. It was all so intoxicating, but with each passing moment, she felt the weight of her past pressing down on her, the reality of who she was crashing against the hope that threatened to take root in her heart. She couldn't afford to let herself fall for him, not when her life had been a series of betrayals and violence.

The thought of her own nature—the assassin who had sworn to take his life—gnawed at her. How could she be standing here, working side by side with him, when she was supposed to be his enemy? And yet, here they were, sharing glances that lingered too long, touches that felt too intimate.

As they spread the notes across the table and discussed their plan, she fought to push aside the ache in her chest, to keep her thoughts grounded in the present. The stakes were high; they had a sister to save and a conspiracy to unravel. Yet every time he looked at her, it felt like he saw right through her carefully crafted facade, and she feared that one day, he would see the truth beneath—the killer she had become.

But for now, she had to focus on the mission. They had to navigate the treacherous waters ahead, and she couldn't afford to let herself get lost in the storm of her emotions. Each touch, each shared laugh, could lead to consequences she wasn't ready to face. It was a dangerous game, and Arya needed to remember her purpose: to protect Valen and, if possible, to redeem herself in the process. Yet, as she stole another glance at him, her heart whispered that the line between friend and foe was blurring faster than she could manage.

~

The night before they planned to infiltrate the safe house again, Arya and Valen found themselves sitting on her couch, an unlikely duo plotting an even more unlikely rescue. Arya was perched on one side, her knees drawn up to her chest, while Valen lounged on the opposite end, both of them lost in a mix of seriousness and absurdity.

"We'll need exit plans, just in case things go south," she said, her tone turning businesslike, but the tension between them crackled in the air.

"Right," Valen replied, his voice playful. "Because the Crown Prince working with an assassin to save his sister isn't absurd enough."

Arya couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "I suppose I'll have to find a way to make your birthday memorable after all," she teased, her smile lingering longer than she intended.

But as their laughter faded, a weight settled in Arya's chest. She had never been more conflicted in her life. The thought of killing him seemed unfathomable now. How could she betray the only person who had treated her with kindness? If she failed this mission, she would be cast out from the Silent Brotherhood, a fate worse than death in her eyes. The Grand Master, who had been like a father to her, had sworn to end her association with the order immediately if she failed. All those years dedicated to the Brotherhood felt like they might be slipping away, and for what? A chance at something she never thought she wanted—something with Valen.

Valen shifted, breaking her reverie. "Do you have anyone waiting back home for you? Someone in the order?" he asked, his gaze curious.

The question caught her off guard, and she shook her head, an unexpected heaviness filling her heart. "No, I'm not the easiest person to love," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The moment she said it, she wished she could take it back.

Valen looked at her like she had struck him. "That's not true," he said, his brow furrowing. "You have to have met someone who could see how amazing you are."

"Why are you saying that?" Arya asked, confusion furrowing her brow.

"For a second, I thought you might have met someone who made you feel special. You deserve that," he said softly, and in that moment, the space between them felt charged.

"I enjoy your friendship, Valen. I know you deserve someone who loves you," she replied, her words surprising even herself.

They shifted closer, their knees almost touching now. The conversation turned deeper as they shared their thoughts about love—what it was, how it felt. Arya found herself laughing as she admitted that she had never given it much thought. "I've been too busy staying alive to think about it," she joked, but the truth was far from funny.

As they leaned even closer, the air thickened with unspoken feelings. Valen's gaze held hers, and the world around them faded. And then it happened—a soft brush of lips that was worlds apart from their hurried kiss in the dungeon. This kiss was more profound, more desperate, and it awakened something in Arya that she had buried deep.

She found herself pulling him closer, her hands cradling his cheeks as if he might vanish if she didn't hold on tight. Valen responded instinctively, his hands finding their way to her waist, guiding her into his lap as the kiss deepened. It was intoxicating—a taste of everything she had ever wanted, every longing she had tucked away.

As Valen laid back, their connection intensified, every moment stretching into eternity. But suddenly, reality rushed back in, and they pulled apart, both wide-eyed and breathless. What were they doing? The weight of their situation crashed down on them, a reminder of their roles—the assassin and the prince.

"I didn't mean for that to happen," Arya stammered, panic bubbling up inside her. But Valen wasn't willing to let go. He pulled her back, pinning her to the couch as he kissed her again, this time with a fervor that ignited something wild between them.

The boundaries they had carefully constructed crumbled as the night wore on, and they were lost in the moment, the world around them fading away as they succumbed to a heat that defied all reason.

~

Valen took Arya's face in his hands and kissed her with an intensity that left her breathless. Their lips fused together, tongues dancing wildly, tasting each other's hunger. Arya's hands found their way to Valen's shirt, tugging at it desperately, as if she needed to feel his skin against hers. Valen obliged, shedding his clothes with urgency, revealing his sculpted body. He paused briefly to admire Arya's beauty, her flushed cheeks, and her beautiful breasts beneath her thin silk nightgown. "You're breathtaking," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

Arya's fingers trembled as she untied the straps of her nightgown, letting it slide off her body, exposing her flawless skin. Valen's eyes darkened at the sight of her naked form, her full breasts and slender waist. His hands exploring her curves as he eased back onto the couch.

Arya's breath quickened as Valen's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. He gently pushed her back onto the soft cushions and positioned himself between her thighs. With a skilled touch, he parted her legs, revealing her glistening pussy, already wet and ready for him.

Valen's fingers teased her delicate folds, circling her clit, making Arya squirm with pleasure. He dipped his head lower, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. With slow, deliberate licks, he began to feast on her pussy, his tongue sliding between her lips, tasting her sweet nectar. Arya arched her back, her hands gripping the couch cushions as waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Oh, Valen... please..." she begged, her voice hoarse and desperate. Valen chuckled against her core, his tongue flicking faster, driving her wild. He knew she was close, and he wanted to make her beg for release. He sucked on her clit, drawing it into his mouth, and Arya's body trembled on the edge of ecstasy.

"Cum for me, Arya," he whispered, his voice commanding. Arya's body exploded in a cascade of pleasure, her juices flowing freely as she cried out his name. Valen lappedat her eagerly, savoring every drop, determined to make her experience something unforgettable.

As Arya's tremors subsided, Valen positioned himself at her entrance, his thick cock throbbing with anticipation. He looked into her eyes, seeking permission, and finding it in the fiery desire burning within them. With one smooth thrust, he sank deep inside her, filling her completely.

Arya gasped, her eyes widening at the sensation of being stretched and filled. Valen held himself still, giving her a moment to adjust to his size. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of her tight pussy. "You feel so fucking good," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

Arya's hands gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his skin as he picked up the pace. Valen's hips snapped against her, his cock plunging deeper with each thrust, hitting all the right spots. Arya's moans filled the room, a mixture of pleasure and surprise at the intensity of her sensations. "Harder, Valen!" she cried, her body yearning for more.

Valen obliged, pounding into her with abandon, his cock slamming against her cervix, eliciting cries of ecstasy from Arya. The couch creaked beneath them as their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, driven by pure, raw lust. As Valen's thrusts became more frantic, Arya's pussy clenched around his cock, signaling her impending orgasm.

Valen felt her walls pulsating around him, and with a final powerful thrust, he exploded inside her, filling her with his cum. Arya's body shook as she came again, her pussy milking his cock, drawing every drop of his essence. They lay entangled on the couch, their hearts racing, and breathless from the intensity of their fuck. They sort of just looked at one another, surprised that they had gone this far. Arya wanted fucking more.

"I want to fuck you again, Valen, and I am not doing it on this couch," she teased. Valen laughed as she reached over taking his hand and leading him to her bedroom.

In the sanctuary of her room, Arya's confidence grew. She pushed Valen onto the bed and straddled him, taking his hard cock into her hands. With a wicked smile, she lowered herself onto his length, her pussy engulfing him inch by inch. Valen groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt her tight heat surround him. Arya began to ride him, her hips moving in slow, sensuous circles, driving him wild. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest as she set a slow, torturous pace. Valen's hands gripped her thighs, his fingers digging into her soft skin as he urged her to take him deeper. "Fuck, you're incredible," he growled, his body arching to meet her movements.

Arya's eyes closed in pleasure as she quickened her pace, rising and falling on his cock. Valen's hands found her breasts, squeezing and kneading them as she rode him relentlessly. Their bodies glistened with sweat, their moans filling the room as they lost themselves in the raw, primal act of fucking. Arya's orgasm built slowly, a delicious tension coiling within her. Valen's cock, slick with her juices, rubbed against her sweet spot with every thrust, pushing her closer to the edge. "I'm gonna cum," she panted, her voice breathless.

Valen's hands found her clit, his fingers working in sync with her movements. Arya's eyes rolled back as she came undone, her pussy contracting around him, milking his cock as she rode out her orgasm. Valen couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, powerful thrust, he exploded inside her again, his cum mixing with hers as they both cried out in ecstasy. Exhausted and satisfied, they collapsed onto the bed, their bodies intertwined, hearts still pounding from the intensity of their passion.

~

The morning light filtered gently through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Arya woke earlier than usual, a soft smile gracing her lips as she felt the lingering ache in her body from the night before. Every wall and boundary she had built over the years felt like they had crumbled, leaving her with a sense of peace she had never expected.

Valen lay behind her, draped over her like a protective shield. His breath stirred the soft strands of hair on his forehead, and she could feel the weight of his arm resting across her waist, their legs entangled in a comforting knot. The rhythm of his calm breathing was soothing, anchoring her in the moment as she listened to the world waking up around them.

Her mind wandered as she lay there, thoughts swirling in a mix of joy and apprehension. She had broken a cardinal rule—never get close to anyone. Yet, here she was, tangled up with the Crown Prince, the man who had somehow smashed through every one of her defenses. There was no regret, though; she cherished this newfound connection, especially as she felt him stretch slightly before settling back into slumber.

With a gentle curiosity, she turned onto her back to look at him. Valen was utterly peaceful in his sleep, and she couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles with her fingers, her touch delicate as if he were made of glass. It was in that moment of quiet realization that the truth hit her like a tidal wave: she couldn't kill him. Not now. Not ever.

He wasn't the first target she had failed to eliminate; Taryn, the sweet apothecary, had been another. There was something about the kindness in their eyes, a spark of humanity that shattered her resolve. Arya's fingers drifted along Valen's chin, lost in thought, when he stirred, eyes fluttering open to meet hers.

For a heartbeat, they stayed locked in that gaze, and then Valen broke the silence with a soft laugh. "I must be the craziest person alive, sleeping with my assassin," he quipped, a teasing glint in his blue eyes.

Arya raised an eyebrow, unable to contain her own smile. "You might just be a little crazy," she admitted, feeling the warmth of his gaze.

Valen feigned offense, putting a hand over his heart in dramatic fashion. "How could you say that?"

But as his hand brushed against her cheek, the playful banter shifted into something deeper. "I don't mind this sort of crazy," he confessed, his voice low and sincere.

A laugh escaped her lips, and before she knew it, he leaned over her, capturing her lips in a soft kiss that made her heart flutter. They lingered in the moment, savoring the warmth and connection they had forged. It was as if the world outside had vanished, leaving only the two of them suspended in time.

Eventually, Valen pulled away, the smile still etched on his face. "I should probably go clean up," he said reluctantly, the words heavy with the promise of separation.

As he got up, Arya couldn't help but watch him, her heart swelling with an unexpected longing. She could get used to having him in her bed, to waking up next to him, to feeling his warmth envelop her. But beneath that warmth lay a familiar fear, a reminder of the chaos their lives entailed. She pushed it down for now, allowing herself to revel in the moment, knowing that they had a mission ahead, but for this brief interlude, everything felt perfect.