The Hollow Crown

A Blade between us

.

The court had changed while she was gone.

Seraphine stood on the marble terrace overlooking the city of Solenya, her gown whispering around her ankles like smoke. Moonlight poured over the rooftops and courtyards below, but nothing looked familiar anymore. The palace was still grand, the banners still crimson—but the power pulsing through its halls belonged to someone else now.

Someone with a colder smile.

Calisandra, Dowager Queen. Regent. Asp.

Seraphine’s fingers tightened on the stone railing, nails digging in slightly. Calisandra had wasted no time slithering into the void Seraphine left behind. Her influence snaked through the council, wrapped around the younger noble heirs like perfume and poison.

And Seraphine, the rightful heir to the Hollow Crown, was now nothing more than a guest in her own palace.

But not for long.

Behind her, boots echoed against tile. Not court shoes. Not polished and timid.

Heavy, sure steps. Military. Dangerous.

She didn’t turn.

“You shouldn’t wander alone at night, Princess,” came a voice like flint dragged over steel—rough, dark, and amused.

“Then you’re in luck,” she replied coolly. “I’m not alone.”

The Wolf Knight stepped into view, backlit by firelight. He was taller than she remembered. Broader, darker now, dressed in black armor that shimmered like oil. His cloak was dusted with ash from the training yard.

His face was carved from some feral god’s idea of beauty—sharp lines, stormy eyes, a mouth always half a smirk away from ruin. And that scar above his brow, the one that cut clean through his left eyebrow, made him look like sin wrapped in steel.

“Kain,” she said, voice steady.

He inclined his head. “Your Highness.”

Seraphine hated how her body remembered him—how every nerve hummed as if those years apart hadn’t passed. She folded her arms to hide the chill on her skin.

“Come to report?” she asked.

“No,” he said simply. “I came because Calisandra assigned me to guard you.”

That drew her attention.

She turned slowly. “You’re my shadow now?”

“Apparently,” he said, unbothered. “Her Majesty insisted. Something about making sure no accidents befall the returning heir.”

A sharp smile curved Seraphine’s lips. “She must be terrified.”

Kain stepped closer. The moon lit his eyes—a dark silver, too wild to be called gray.

“She should be.”

He was too close. Too warm. Too knowing.

Her heart ticked a little faster. Not because she trusted him. Quite the opposite.

She remembered the last time they spoke before she was sent away—after the failed rebellion, after the execution of her allies.

He had kissed her like it was the end of the world… and then walked away without a word.

“I don’t need a guard,” she said.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve got one.”

Seraphine’s eyes narrowed. “And if I order you to leave?”

“I’ll leave,” he said. “And then I’ll come back. Orders are orders.”

There was a silence. Charged. Heavy.

“You’re not the same,” she said finally.

“No,” he agreed. “Neither are you.”