The Tyrant’s Warrior Bride

Seraphina lay awake inside her tent, staring at the darkened canvas above her. The soft crackle of distant campfires and the occasional murmur of Draeven soldiers were the only sounds that broke the silence.

She was exhausted after a full day of travel. Her body ached, and her muscles burned, yet sleep refused to come.

Her mind was too loud, too restless.

The air smelled of damp earth and smoke, thick with the scent of pine from the surrounding forest. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the distant howl of a wolf.

A shiver ran down her spine.

She wasn't afraid of the wild.

She was afraid of what would become of her when she got to the unknown, to Draeven.

She was afraid of what would become of the man sleeping mere feet away from her.

Kael.

She hadn't seen him since their brief exchange by the fire. He had eaten in silence, then disappeared into his tent without another word.

She should have been relieved.

Yet his absence only unsettled her more.

Because she knew—

Kael Draeven was not a man who ignored threats.

And she? She was the greatest threat to his rule.

She had spent years studying Draeven's tactics, learning its weaknesses, and preparing for a war that she had never been allowed to fight.

Now, she was inside enemy territory.

And she had no plan.

Seraphina let out a slow breath, rubbing her temples.

She needed to think. To prepare.

Escape was impossible tonight, but that didn't mean she had to be helpless.

If she was going to survive this forced union, she needed to understand him.

Not just as a king but as a man.

And that meant watching, Listening, and Learning how to bring him down.

 ….

A twig snapped.

Seraphina's breath hitched.

Her body tensed, every sense on high alert.

That was too close.

She reached for the dagger hidden beneath her cloak, the cold metal grounding her. Slowly, she sat up, straining to hear beyond the thin material of her tent.

There was another sound.

Light footsteps.

Not Kael.

Not one of the Draeven soldiers.

This was someone else.

Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her dagger.

Then, the flap of her tent swing opened.

Seraphina moved instantly.

In one fluid motion, she hurled forward, pressing the sharp edge of her blade against a solid chest.

A hand clamped over her wrist before she could drive it deeper.

But he was Too fast, Too strong.

Her breath came hard and fast as her eyes adjusted to the dim light—

And locked onto the man in front of her.

Kael.

His grip was firm, unwavering, but there was no real pressure behind it. He wasn't trying to hurt her.

He was just stopping her.

His voice was low, edged with warning. "You always greet people like this?"

Seraphina scowled, pushing against his hold. "Only when they sneak into my tent in the middle of the night."

Kael released her, stepping back. "You were awake."

So he had been watching her.

Seraphina hated the way that thought sent a shiver through her.

She lowered her dagger but didn't put it away. "What do you want?"

Kael crossed his arms, his expression unchanged. "To make sure you're still here."

Seraphina's jaw tightened. "Where else would I be?"

Kael studied her, his dark gaze gleaming. "I've learned never to underestimate my enemies."

The word "enemy" hung between them, heavy and implicit.

Seraphina let out a slow, bitter laugh. "At least we're being honest now."

Kael's lips curved slightly, but there was no amusement in it. "We've always been honest, Princess."

He turned, moving toward the entrance.

Then he paused and turned.

"If you try to run, you won't make it far."

Seraphina's grip on her dagger tightened. "You don't know that."

Kael's gaze flickered back to hers, his expression dark. "Yes, I do."

Then he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more.

Seraphina sat in silence, her chest rising and falling in measured breaths.

She should have been afraid.

She should have been furious.

Instead, all she felt was something dangerous—Something like conspiracy.

Kael Draeven was not what she expected.

She had thought him to be a tyrant. A conqueror.

But there was control in the way he moved. Control in the way he looked at her like he was holding himself back from hurting her.

And that made him far more dangerous than she had ever imagined.

 "Or was he just good at hiding his true colors?"She thought.

Her fingers traced the hilt of her dagger.

He thought she would run.

He thought he knew her.

He didn't.

Because when the time came, she wouldn't run.

She would burn Draeven from the inside out.

And Kael Draeven would never see it coming.