The sword had long been lowered, but the tension cling to the air like smoke.
After the sparring match, after the chain of Phoenix had melted in the fire, and Valen had whispered she belonged to him... She hadn't spoken a word.
Her pride as a warrior was cracked, but not shattered. And her soul? Restless, unsure, and far too aware of the man who had claimed her with obsession instead of chains.
Seraphine followed behind him in silence, gaze sharp, spine straight , refusing to let him see how her thoughts spiraled. The enemy, he was still the enemy. No matter how close he leaned, how softly he whispered, how his touch-
No.
Her eyes darted to the nape of his neck as he walked ahead. The collar of his dark shirt shifted slightly with his movements, revealing the edge of something in
