Her Prison

The city gates stood tall, their iron bars casting sharp shadows on the dirt road. Draeven's black and silver banners flapped strongly in the wind, just like the kingdom they belonged to.

Seraphina tightened her grip on the reins, her fingers aching against the worn leather. The closer they rode, the heavier the air became, thick with the scent of iron, stone, and lingering smoke.

Draeven's capital.

A city built on those it had crushed.

Kael's kingdom.

Her prison.

The thought pressed against her chest, sharp and suffocating.

As they neared the gates, the guards snapped to attention, their gazes sharp, their hands gripping the hilts of their weapons. Some saluted. Others simply watched. But what struck her most was how they looked at Kael.

There was no hesitation in their submission, No doubt in their loyalty.

The Wolf of Draeven had returned.

The title sent a chill through her, not because she feared it, but because she understood what it meant. He was not just their ruler, he was their conqueror, their warlord. A man whose name carried the weight of bloodshed and victory.

She forced herself to sit straighter, ignoring the ache in her muscles from days of hard riding. She would not slump. Would not look weak.

She was not a prisoner, at least not yet.

The gates groaned open, the metal screeching in protest, and the city stretched out before her.

Draeven was not a city meant to be beautiful; it was built to last. Tall, worn towers rose into the sky, their edges rough. The streets were wide but crowded, soldiers stood guard, merchants called out their goods, and people paused to watch the procession pass.

Seraphina felt the weight of their stares, the quiet inspection in their eyes.

She was an outsider. A foreign princess. A destroyed bride.

She swallowed hard, keeping her expression calm, even as her throat tightened.

The castle loomed in the distance, its high walls and dark towers cutting against the sky like jagged teeth. It was a quiet reminder of where she was going and the life that had been decided for her.

She had grown up in a palace. She had known golden chandeliers, marble floors, and soft silks. She had known what it meant to live in a cage, dressed in wealth and expectation.

But this? It was different.

It had no atom of warmth and softness

As she walked through the gates, into the kingdom that she would soon be a part of, she couldn't shake the feeling that there may be no turning back.

The streets were full of life, unaware of the war that had brought Seraphina here.

Merchants called out, their voices friendly as they bargained over spices and bright fabrics. Blacksmiths worked at their forges, the ring of metal echoing through the air. The warm scent of fresh bread mixed with the smoky smell of burning coal, wrapping the city in a familiar, steady rhythm of survival

Children ran through the busy streets, their laughter bright and carefree. A little girl squealed as her older brother chased her, their bare feet tapping against the stone. Nearby, a group of boys stood on boxes, waving wooden swords and pretending to be great warriors in a battle of their imagination.

It was nothing like Valaris. Nothing like her home.

Valaris was a city of elegance. Its streets were clean, its gardens carefully tended to, and its people carried themselves with grace. Nobles spoke in soft voices, their laughter was careful, mindful, and graceful.

This place was wild and raw, nothing like the polished world she was used to.

But as Seraphina looked at the people, she felt uneasy, they did not fear Kael Draeven.

They honored him.

Men stood taller as he passed, bowing their heads in respect. Women gave a small, knowing smile, not out of duty, but something close to admiration. Even the children, who should have feared the man who had done so many horrible things watched him with wide eyes, whispering his name like he was the hero of their stories.

Seraphina's stomach curled.

This was not the reaction she had expected.

She had spent so much time imagining Kael Draeven as a tyrant, a brute who ruled through fear alone. It had been easier to hate him that way, easier to resist when she believed he was nothing more than a monster dressed in armor.

But this? It was far worse.

A warlord could be defeated. A tyrant could be brought down.

But a king? A king who was loved?

That was dangerous.

Kael Draeven wasn't just a conqueror, he was a leader. He had built something strong, something lasting. This kingdom wasn't just taken, it was his.

And no matter how much Seraphina wanted to see him as the villain, the truth is always harder to ignore.

The people of Draeven did not just obey him.

They followed him.

And that meant breaking him, escaping him, would not be as simple as she had hoped