Bound to Him by Fate <ongoing>

The journey should have been uneventful—a quiet return to the safety of Arundelle's borders. But as the sun dipped behind the rolling hills, the tranquil air turned sinister. Shadows danced through the dense forest lining their path, and the subtle tension among Seraphina's guards quickly sharpened.

The sound of hoofbeats shattered the stillness, followed by dark figures emerging from the trees. They wielded blades with an unnerving confidence, their faces hidden beneath hoods.

"Ambush!" one of the guards yelled, unsheathing his sword.

The clang of steel on steel rang out as the attackers closed in.

Seraphina's guards fought valiantly, their movements precise but weary from days of heightened vigilance. Outnumbered and outmaneuvered, their defensive line began to falter.

Seraphina stayed back, her heart pounding in her chest as she reached instinctively for the dagger concealed beneath her cloak. She gripped its hilt tightly, though she knew it would be of little use against seasoned fighters.

"Your Highness, get to safety!" a guard shouted over his shoulder.

Before she could respond, a sharp, stinging pain exploded in her shoulder. A blade had grazed her, slicing through fabric and skin. She staggered, clutching the wound as hot blood seeped between her fingers.

"Your Highness!" Kael's voice was sharper than she had ever heard it.

The next moment, he was there. She barely had time to register him picking up a sword from a fallen guard before he charged forward.

Kael moved with startling precision. His strikes were clean and deliberate, his body shifting fluidly as though guided by an unseen rhythm.

The timid servant she thought she knew had vanished, replaced by a fighter who wielded deadly grace.

Seraphina's breath caught as she watched him, her pain momentarily forgotten. This man—this Kael—was a stranger to her.

"Retreat!" Kael's voice rose above the chaos, commanding rather than requesting. "Fall back to the town!"

The guards hesitated for only a moment before obeying.

Kael turned to Seraphina, who was swaying unsteadily, her face pale from blood loss. Without a word, he caught her as she staggered, lifting her onto her horse with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the violence moments before. Climbing up behind her, he took the reins and urged the horse into a gallop.

Seraphina felt the warmth of his chest against her back, the steady rhythm of his breath keeping her anchored as the chaos of the attack faded behind them.

The town was modest, its streets winding and narrow. As they approached the inn at the center, Seraphina's vision blurred. She gritted her teeth, refusing to let weakness consume her.

The innkeeper, a portly man with a graying beard, froze as they entered. His gaze lingered on Seraphina's bloodied cloak.

"She's hurt," Kael said brusquely. "We need a room."

His eyes darted to Seraphina, his concern evident.

"She's my wife," Kael said without hesitation, his tone leaving no room for argument. Seraphina blinked at him, too tired to protest. The lie was necessary—she understood that—but the word hung heavy between them as the innkeeper handed over a key.

Kael led her upstairs, his hand steady against her back. Once inside, he guided her to the edge of the bed.

The flickering light of an oil lamp cast shadows across his face, sharpening the lines of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence filled only by the distant hum of the wind outside.

"I shouldn't have said that," Kael murmured, his voice low as he turned away to retrieve supplies from a small chest by the window. "About you being my wife. It was impulsive."

Seraphina, cradling her injured arm, looked up at him. "It doesn't matter," she said softly, though the vulnerability in her voice surprised even herself.

Kael returned with a bowl of water, a clean cloth, and a small vial of salve. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to her cloak.

She hesitated but relented, too drained to argue.

His hands moved with deliberate care, peeling back the blood-soaked fabric to reveal the gash across her shoulder.

"It's deeper than I thought," he muttered, his brow furrowed.

"It's nothing," she replied through clenched teeth, though the pain was sharp enough to make her stomach churn.

"This will sting," he warned as he dampened the cloth and began to clean the wound.

The sharp bite of the antiseptic drew a hiss from Seraphina, and her free hand clenched the bedsheet.

Kael's gaze flicked up to her face, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head. "Just do it."

As he worked, the room seemed to shrink around them. The heat of his presence was palpable, his every movement deliberate. When his fingers brushed against her skin, a shiver ran through her—not from the cold, but from something deeper, something she didn't have the strength to examine.

"You fought like a trained warrior," she said, her voice breaking the heavy silence.

Kael didn't look up. "I don't know how."

"You don't know?" Her brow furrowed.

He paused, the cloth hovering just above her wound. "It was instinct. Like my body knew what to do even if my mind didn't."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken questions.

"Instincts don't wield swords with precision," she said, her tone skeptical.

"I wish I had answers for you, Your Highness. I don't."

His honesty was disarming, and for a moment, Seraphina forgot the pain. She studied his face—the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw—and wondered who he had been before he came to Arundelle.

When he finished, he tied the bandage securely and stepped back, his hands falling to his sides. "That should hold," he said.

"Thank you," she said, her words softer than intended.

Kael met her gaze, his eyes searching hers for a moment before he inclined his head. "It's my duty."

As the room settled into silence, Kael spread a blanket on the floor near the window.

"You don't have to sleep on the floor," Seraphina said, breaking the silence.

"It wouldn't be right," he replied without looking at her.

"You can take another room."

"I need to guard you."

She sighed at his words and lay back against the pillows, her shoulder aching but bandaged. Despite the tension between them, there was a strange comfort in knowing he was there.

As she drifted into a fitful sleep, the image of Kael on the battlefield lingered in her mind.