My enemy my lover my king

Chapter five

The rain began to fall as they reached the high fortress of Kaelen’s Point, a freezing mountain downpour that turned the world to gray. After the blood and grime of the pass, the fortress felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded cage.

Seraphina had been directed to the royal bathing chambers—a sprawling room of steamed marble and heated pools. She needed to wash the scent of death from her skin, but as she pushed open the heavy brass doors, the steam rose up to meet her like a thick, humid veil.

She froze.

The sound of splashing water echoed off the stone. Through the mist, she saw the silhouette of a man. Magnus. He was standing in the center of the shallow pool, his back to her. He hadn't heard her enter over the rush of the heated falls.

The linen bandage she had wrapped around his ribs earlier was gone, discarded on the marble floor. His skin was bronzed and scarred, muscles rippling across his back as he lifted his arms to slick his wet hair away from his face. Water droplets tracked down the deep groove of his spine, disappearing into the low-slung towel at his hips.

Seraphina should have turned around. She should have bolted. But her feet felt rooted to the floor. She had spent years imagining Magnus as a beast, a monster in iron. Seeing him like this—raw, dripping, and undeniably beautiful—made the air in her lungs feel thin.

Magnus paused, his shoulders tensing. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as they found her through the steam. He didn't reach for a robe. He didn't scramble for cover. He simply stood there, water glistening on his chest, watching her with a look that was half-challenge, half-hunger.

"Are you here to finish cleaning my wounds, Seraphina?" he rasped, his voice echoing in the humid chamber. "Or were you just making sure your investment hadn't drowned?"

Seraphina’s face flushed a deep crimson, but she refused to look away. She stepped forward, the heat of the room making her own thin chemise cling to her curves. "I didn't know you were here. The attendants told me the chambers were empty."

"The attendants are liars," Magnus said, taking a slow step toward the edge of the pool. He climbed out, the water cascading off his powerful frame. He stopped just inches from her, smelling of cedarwood and hot stone. The height difference was staggering; she had to tilt her head back to meet his smoldering gaze. "Or perhaps they just wanted to see if the Queen of Ice would melt if she got too close to the fire."

He reached out, his hand damp and warm as he grazed the side of her neck. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, lingering near the corner of her mouth. The hatred was there, a dull thrum in the background, but it was being drowned out by a physical pull so strong it felt like gravity.

"You’re trembling," he whispered, his eyes dropping to her lips.

"I’m cold," she lied, though her skin was burning.

"Liar," he breathed. He leaned in, his face so close she could feel the heat of his breath, but before his lips could touch hers, a heavy clack echoed through the room.

The sound of a heavy iron bolt sliding into place.

Seraphina spun around, rushing to the door and pulling at the handles. It wouldn't budge. From the other side, she heard a muffled, familiar giggle—her sister, Elara—and the low, conspiratorial chuckle of Magnus’s younger brother, Cassian.

"The kingdom needs an heir, brother!" Cassian’s voice boomed through the thick wood. "And the council is tired of waiting for you two to stop trying to kill each other. We’ve decided you aren't leaving that room until you’ve... settled your differences."

"And don't bother looking for the other exits!" Elara added, her voice high and mischievous. "We’ve had the windows barred. Oh, and the wine on the table? You might want to drink up. It’s a special blend from the southern isles. It’ll help with the... nerves."

Seraphina pounded on the door. "Elara! Open this door this instant! This is treason!"

There was no reply but the sound of retreating footsteps and a final, mocking laugh.

Seraphina turned back to the room, her heart racing. Magnus was still standing by the pool, a strange expression on his face. He picked up the bottle of dark red wine that had been left on a small marble pedestal.

"They’ve drugged the wine," she whispered, her eyes wide. "Aphrodisiacs. My sister has been threatening to do this for months."

Magnus looked at the bottle, then at Seraphina, whose chemise was now translucent from the steam. The tension in the room snapped like a taut bowstring.

"We're locked in a room filled with steam, wine, and a decade of repressed rage," Magnus said, his voice dropping an octave as he set the bottle down. He walked toward her, his movements predatory and deliberate. "Tell me, Seraphina... are you going to try to kill me, or are you finally going to admit that you've been wanting to do this since the moment we stood at that altar?"