Bethroned: Mischief At It's Finest.

First night, not the heat expected.

The celebration had drawn to a close, the guests retreating to their chambers, and the grand halls of Odin's palace now lay quiet. The evening had been a spectacle, a royal display of unity and power, but beneath the surface, the tension between you and Loki simmered, unspoken but undeniable.

Now, in the stillness of Loki's chambers, it all came to a head.

You stood near the window, gazing out at the night sky of Asgard, trying to find some sense of calm in the chaos of the day. The weight of your new title, the tension of the wedding, and the simmering resentment between you and Loki all swirled within you, making it impossible to rest.

Behind you, Loki paced near the edge of the room, his hands clenched into fists, his demeanor no longer cool and composed as it had been during the ceremony. The mask of indifference had cracked.

"You can stop pretending, you know," you said, your voice cutting through the silence. "We both know this marriage is a farce. There's no need to keep up the act now."

Loki stopped, turning to face you, his eyes dark with frustration. "Oh, believe me, I have no interest in pretending," he snapped. "But if we're going to survive this arrangement, perhaps you could show a little less defiance."

You turned, meeting his gaze, your own irritation bubbling to the surface. "Defiance? Is that what you call it? All I've done is refuse to bow to this ridiculous union. If anyone is being defiant, it's you."

Loki's eyes narrowed, the flicker of anger growing. "Do you think I wanted this any more than you did? Do you honestly believe I'm eager to be tied to someone who-"

"Who what?" you interrupted, stepping forward, your voice rising. "Say it, Loki. Someone who what? Doesn't bend to your will? Doesn't play into your schemes?"

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, the room seemed to crackle with the energy between you. He stepped closer, his presence looming, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. "I don't need to bend you to my will," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But you would do well to remember that we are not on equal footing here. You may be a goddess of mischief, but in Asgard, you are a guest. And in this marriage, you are bound to me."

You glared at him, your heart pounding in your chest, but you refused to back down. "Bound to you?" you repeated, your voice cold. "That's where you're wrong, Loki. This marriage may be forced, but I belong to no one. Least of all you."

For a moment, you thought you saw something flash in his eyes-something hurt, something raw-but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the familiar mask of arrogance.

"Is that so?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Then perhaps you should have stayed in your own realm, where you could continue wreaking havoc without consequence."

"And perhaps you should have stayed in the shadows where you belong," you shot back. "Instead of pretending to be something you're not-an obedient son, a loyal brother."

That struck a nerve. Loki's face darkened, and his voice turned venomous. "Careful," he hissed. "You don't know me. You don't understand what it means to be part of this family, this throne, this game."

"And I never wanted to," you retorted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "But now I'm trapped in it, just like you. So spare me your self-righteousness."

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken fury. Loki stared at you, his chest rising and falling with barely contained anger, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he turned sharply on his heel, storming toward the door.

"Where are you going?" you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

"To get away from you," he growled, throwing open the door with a force that made it slam against the wall. "I'd rather spend the night in the company of my own thoughts than endure this farce any longer."