The Tyrant’s Warrior Bride

Seraphina couldn't breathe.

The moment she stormed out of the throne room, the suffocating weight of reality crashed down on her. The war was over—but not because they had won. Because she had been sold like a prize of war.

She tore through the palace halls, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. Servants shrank back at the fury blazing in her eyes, but she barely noticed them. All she could see was the blood-soaked battlefield, the men she had fought beside, the lives lost—all for nothing.

"Seraphina!"

Her father's voice cut through the corridor, sharp and commanding. She ignored it.

"Seraphina, stop!"

A firm grip closed around her wrist. She whirled, yanking free as she turned to face him.

"How could you do this?" she spat, her voice shaking. "After everything, how could you give me to them?"

King Aldric Varelis stood tall before her, his expression unreadable. Once, she had seen him as an unshakable pillar—a warrior-king who had led their armies to countless victories. But now?

Now, he was just a man who had surrendered.

"Do you think this was easy for me?" he said, his voice calm but firm. "Do you think I wanted this for you?"

"Then why?" she demanded, fists clenched at her sides. "Why throw me to the wolves?"

Her father sighed, running a weary hand over his face. "Because if I didn't, there would be no kingdom left for you to fight for."

Seraphina's breath hitched.

"Draeven was never going to stop, Seraphina," he continued. "Even if you had taken the battlefield today, even if you had won this fight, the war would not have ended. Their reinforcements are days away. Thousands more men, more supplies, more bloodshed. Do you understand what that means?"

She swallowed hard.

"It means we would have lost."

Her father nodded. "And not just the war. The people. Our home. Everything. This was the only way to save Varelis."

Seraphina wanted to argue. She wanted to scream, to deny it. But deep down, she knew the truth. Varelis had been fighting on the edge of a knife for too long.

And now, the blade had finally cut deep.

Still, it didn't make this betrayal any easier to swallow.

She turned away, blinking back the sting of tears she refused to shed. "And what of me, Father?" Her voice was quieter now, laced with something dangerously close to grief. "Did you ever consider what this would do to me?"

A long silence stretched between them.

"You are my daughter," the king said at last. "But you are also a princess. And sometimes, duty is heavier than a sword."

Seraphina let out a bitter laugh. "No, Father. Duty is a cage. And you've just locked me inside it."

She didn't wait for his response. Instead, she turned and walked away, her steps heavy with the weight of a future she had never chosen.

Kael stood by the palace window, watching the Varelis capital below. The city was beautiful, built of pale stone and towering spires. Soon, it would belong to him.

Footsteps echoed behind him. General Varian, his most trusted commander, approached. "You saw her reaction?"

Kael smirked. "Hard not to."

Seraphina Varelis was exactly as he expected—fierce, proud, and burning with the kind of defiance that made people reckless.

"She will not submit easily," Varian warned.

"I don't expect her to." Kael turned, his expression unreadable. "But she will, eventually."

Varian arched a brow. "And if she doesn't?"

Kael's smirk faded. "Then I will break her."