Chapter 19 – A Reluctant Protector
1172 Words
For days after the confrontation at dinner, Seraphina felt the shift in the air around Kael. He no longer raged, no longer barked commands, but a quiet intensity followed her everywhere—an invisible tether binding her movements to his awareness.
She first noticed it when she went to the garden alone. The chill of early morning kissed her skin, and the sun was only beginning to paint the sky in hues of amber. Yet before she could even take a seat on the stone bench, a shadow fell over her shoulder.
Kael stood at the edge of the path, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
“You shouldn’t wander alone,” he said, voice low.
Seraphina turned slowly, the hem of her gown brushing against the grass. “Since when do I need permission to breathe the morning air?”
His eyes narrowed. “Since someone decided that snooping and disobedience were harmless pastimes.”
Her lips parted in protest, but he cut her off. “I’m not here to argue,” he added, softer this time. “The grounds aren’t safe.”
She blinked. “Safe? This is your estate, Kael. What danger could possibly lurk in your own garden?”
He hesitated, gaze flicking toward the treeline beyond the walls. “Not everything that hunts waits outside these walls.”
A shiver crawled down her spine, though she didn’t understand why. His tone carried a truth that went beyond fear—it was caution edged with experience.
“I don’t need a guard,” she said finally. “I’m not your prisoner.”
“No,” he murmured. “You’re my wife. Which means what happens to you… happens to me.”
He turned and left before she could reply, but from that moment on, she realized she was never truly alone.
When she moved through the hallways, she caught glimpses of him—at the end of the corridor, near the stairwell, outside her study door. Sometimes he didn’t even pretend to hide his presence. He simply watched, eyes following her with a gaze that was both protection and possession.
At first, it infuriated her. But slowly, the irritation gave way to confusion.
If he wanted to control her, why did his eyes sometimes soften when he thought she wasn’t looking? Why did his voice drop when he asked if she’d eaten, or if she’d slept?
That evening, she joined him at the stables. She found him saddling one of the horses, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he tightened the straps.
“You’re following me again,” she said, folding her arms.
He didn’t look up. “I call it watching over you.”
“From what, exactly? The terrifying rose bushes?”
His mouth twitched—almost a smile. “From men who stare too long. From people who think your kindness is weakness. From myself, sometimes.”
Her breath hitched. “From yourself?”
Finally, his eyes met hers. “I told you before, there are things about me you don’t want to understand. But you keep walking toward them.”
The wind picked up, stirring strands of her hair. “Maybe I’m not as fragile as you think.”
He stepped closer. “And maybe I’m not as strong as I pretend to be.”
The words hung between them like unspoken truth.
That night, the estate was cloaked in darkness. The servants had long retired when Seraphina awoke to the faint sound of voices outside her chamber. She slipped from her bed and moved to the door, pressing her ear to the cool wood.
“…found tracks by the outer wall,” one of Kael’s men was saying. “Someone’s been watching the house.”
“Double the patrols,” Kael ordered. His tone was clipped, lethal.
Her heart stuttered. When she opened the door, he was already there, eyes shadowed in the dim light.
“You heard,” he said simply.
“Who is it? What’s happening?”
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
“You’re wrong, Kael. If danger’s near, I deserve to know!”
He stepped closer, his hand resting briefly on her arm. “You deserve peace. Let me handle this.”
She stared up at him, frustration warring with a flicker of fear. “You think you can protect everyone. But sometimes, you can’t even protect yourself from your own demons.”
His jaw tightened. “You sound like her,” he said quietly.
“Liora,” she guessed.
He didn’t answer, but the silence was enough.
When she reached out, her fingers brushed his sleeve, a fleeting gesture of empathy. For once, he didn’t pull away.
Later, when she finally returned to bed, she left the door unlocked. She told herself it was out of defiance. But when she woke again, faint moonlight spilling through the window, she caught sight of him—sitting silently in a chair across the room, watching the door like a sentinel.
“You’re still here,” she whispered.
He didn’t move. “Sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
And though she wanted to protest, her eyes grew heavy. Somehow, knowing he was there made the darkness less suffocating.
In the days that followed, Kael’s protectiveness only deepened. When she walked through the market square with the servants, he followed at a distance, his presence enough to make strangers avert their eyes. When another nobleman dared to compliment her, Kael’s hand closed around hers possessively, the tension in his jaw speaking volumes.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said afterward, when they were alone. “You don’t have to shield me from every man who speaks my name.”
“Yes, I do,” he said. “Because they don’t see you the way I do.”
Her voice softened. “And how do you see me?”
He looked away, as though afraid of his own answer. “As something I can’t afford to lose.”
Seraphina’s chest tightened. It wasn’t love he was confessing—it was fear. Fear of losing control, of losing another person who mattered.
That night, when she stood by the window, Kael appeared behind her again, his reflection meeting hers in the glass.
“Will you ever stop following me?” she asked quietly.
“Not until I’m sure you’re safe.”
“And when will that be?”
His reflection smiled faintly. “When I stop caring. Which means never.”
The words stole her breath. He moved closer, his presence both comforting and unsettling. She could feel the heat of him behind her, the steady rhythm of his breathing.
“Kael,” she whispered, “you can’t protect me from everything.”
His voice brushed her ear like a promise and a curse. “Watch me try.”
Outside, thunder rolled across the horizon, and for the first time, Seraphina realized the Beast’s shadow might not be her cage—it might be her shelter.
- Writer
