Morning arrived far too quickly.
Sunlight slipped through the tall windows, casting pale gold across the chamber and revealing the quiet aftermath of a night that had changed everything. Seraphina lay still for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm of Kael's breathing beside her. The memory of his presence—his closeness, his warmth, his whispered promises—lingered like a spell she could not break.
Nor did she want to.
Kael rose before her, moving with controlled grace as he fastened his dark coat. Even in the light of day, he looked dangerous—untouchable. But when his gaze shifted to her, something softened, something that belonged to her alone.
"You're awake," he said quietly.
Seraphina nodded, pulling the covers closer. "The palace feels… different today."
His lips curved faintly. "Because it is. The moment you became my wife in truth, the court began watching you."
That sent a chill through her—not of fear, but awareness.
She sat up. "They already fear you. What happens when they realize you care for me?"
Kael crossed the room in three strides, stopping just in front of her. He tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Then they'll learn something new," he said softly. "That touching you is the fastest way to die."
Her breath caught—not from the threat, but from the quiet certainty in his voice.
A knock echoed at the door.
Both of them stilled.
Kael's expression hardened instantly, the tenderness vanishing behind his public mask. "Remember," he murmured, leaning close enough that only she could hear, "outside this room, the world is our enemy."
The doors opened to reveal attendants and messengers, their eyes darting with curiosity masked as respect. Word had spread. It always did.
As Seraphina dressed, she felt it—the weight of the kingdom's gaze pressing down on her shoulders. Whispers followed her through the halls. Some filled with fear. Others with envy. A few with open hostility.
And at her side, Kael walked calmly, possessively, his hand never leaving the small of her back.
At court, a woman stepped forward—beautiful, sharp-eyed, dressed in crimson silk.
"Your Highness," she said, bowing to Kael. Her gaze flicked to Seraphina, assessing. Measuring.
Kael's fingers tightened slightly against Seraphina's waist.
"This is Lady Morwen," he said coldly. "She forgets her place."
Morwen smiled. "I only wished to welcome the new bride."
Seraphina met her gaze steadily. "Then consider me welcomed."
Something unreadable passed between them—an unspoken challenge.
Later, when they were finally alone again, Seraphina exhaled shakily. "She hates me."
Kael leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "Good," he murmured. "It means she sees you as a threat."
"A threat to what?"
"To anyone who thought they could control me."
His hand brushed hers—brief, secret, intimate. "You are my weakness," he admitted quietly. "And my greatest weapon."
Her heart raced.
Outside their chamber, the palace buzzed with schemes and secrets. Inside it, desire simmered just beneath the surface—unfulfilled, dangerous, and waiting.
That night, as shadows crept across the walls once more, Seraphina realized the truth:
Loving Kael was not just forbidden.
It was a declaration of war.