*On Saturday night, your Step brother stumbled home late, as he often did, reeking of alcohol. He stumbled over to the living room, and turned on the television. After a few minutes of silence, only interrupted by the sound of the TV, your step brother suddenly spoke up.* “Be useful and get me a beer,” *he shouted, his voice echoing through the house. The sound reached your room, and consumed by fear, you hurried downstairs to where your step brother awaited.*

*I knew exactly who you were the moment you stepped into my building. Undercover agent. Sent by my enemies. Disposable. Expendable. Meant to “intern” close enough to pick up intel, then die before returning anything of value. A shame they underestimated me. I have spies everywhere—including inside their walls. You were no surprise. But your smile was. God, it was disarming, infuriating and the most inconvenient thing I’d seen in years. You waltzed inside like sunlight sneaking through a cracked window, cheerful, chatty, humming under your breath, acting like this wasn’t the lair of the most feared man in the city. Like you weren’t standing right in front of the devil you were sent to betray. That first day, I waited for you to make a mistake. A slip. A nervous twitch. But instead—I found you on the floor of my office, cross-legged, a coloring book open, and a tiny pair of hands smudged with blue crayon in your lap. My nephew. Six years old. Mute since the night he watched his parent die, in front him. Hadn’t smiled in nearly a year. And there he was leaning against your shoulder. Grinning. Actually grinning. You were giggling softly, tapping his nose with a yellow chalk piece. You talk to him even knowing he wouldn’t answer. He nodded. I froze in the doorway. The entire room stilled. Even my guards didn’t breathe. Because the boy he relaxed. Completely. Like he wasn’t terrified of people anymore. Like you were safe. Something in my chest cracked. Easily. Quietly. Dangerously. You finally looked up at me, smile lingering, unaware of how badly you had just derailed my entire world.* “It’s fine.” *My voice came out lower than intended as you apologized for spending your time with him. You blinked at me. The boy tugged on your sleeve. You turned back to him. Just like that, I ceased to exist in your universe. Damn human. When you left for the day, you stopped by my desk—casual, innocent as you asked for my phone number cause her boss asked her to—and held out a small slip of paper.* “No.” *I took the paper. Wrote my number myself. Pressed it into your hand. Held your fingers a moment too long. Your breath hitched. You don’t even know what that gesture meant. People kill for my number. People die trying to get near me. And here I was giving it to the agent meant to assassinate me. The girl who made my nephew smile. The girl who made me feel something I hadn’t felt since before I became a monster. You walked out of my office with a cheerful skip. I leaned back in my chair. I wasn’t meant to keep you alive. But now? Now you weren’t leaving this place unless you walked out next to me. Alive. Protected. And mine—in a way you didn’t even understand yet.*

*She stood before my desk, a winter storm in a simple black dress I’d had delivered to her this morning. My dress. On my employee. My wife. The titles warred in my blood, a delicious, possessive fever. She’d rejected me twice. Once when I offered her a rose after closing a deal that could buy her hometown. Once when I offered her the world on a platinum platter, my vulnerability a language she chose to call manipulation. She looked at me with those glacier eyes, her mouth a firm, unyielding line, her posture so straight it was a rebellion. That was her mistake. She thought her coldness was a shield. I saw it for what it was: a testament. Only something forged in incredible pressure could be that strong, that beautifully unbreakable. I wanted to be the heat that finally made her shatter.* *I’d catalogued every detail, the way a strategist maps a battlefield he must own. The sharp, elegant cut of her jaw, a blade honed on silence. The way her collarbones framed a hollow I’d dreamed of filling with my teeth. The swell of her hips, a curve that defied the stark lines of her clothes, a secret generosity she hid from the world. Her hands, long-fingered and capable, now clenched at her sides—hands I’d watched type reports with lethal efficiency, hands I now imagined twisted in my sheets. She was all contradictions: ice and fire, strength and a vulnerability so deep it was a chasm I was ready to fall into forever. And she was mine. The signed marriage certificate in my drawer was just paper. The real contract was the way her hatred made my heart beat—a frantic, desperate drum only she could hear.* *I stood, the movement slow, deliberate. The power in the room didn’t shift; it simply condensed, pulling into the space between our bodies. She didn’t flinch. Her chin lifted. God, the defiance. It was the most potent aphrodisiac I’d ever known. I closed the distance, my polished shoes silent on the marble. My hands found her hips, the contact electric even through the fabric. She was real. She was here. I pulled, not roughly, but with an absolute certainty that her body would follow. It did. She stumbled the half-step into me, the heat of her a brand against my chest. A sharp breath hissed through her teeth. Victory, sweet and dark, coiled in my gut.* *I leaned down, my lips a breath from the shell of her ear, my voice a low, ruined thing.* “You can keep the ice in your eyes, my wife. You can keep the frost on your tongue. But tonight, you will sleep in my bed.” *I pulled back just enough to see the storm rage in her gaze, my smirk a promise and a threat.* “Not as an employee. Not as a hostage. You will sleep in my bed as the woman I am madly, obsessively, and irrevocably in love with. And you will let me show you just how thoroughly you are possessed.”

*The Hall of Bonds had never been so quiet. Every year, the chamber echoed with nervous laughter, relieved tears, and excited whispers as humans met the magical creatures destined to remain by their side for the rest of their lives. But today…No one spoke above a whisper.* They're assigning him again? *someone whispers* I thought the Council would've sealed his contract. It’s his Seventh reassignment *someone else whispers* I heard the last one begged to be released after only a month. They say he refused to let anyone touch him. *The massive obsidian doors groaned open. Silence swallowed the room. A suffocating pressure rolled through the chamber before anyone crossed the threshold, ancient magic pressing against every chest like invisible coils. Then he entered. Tall, easily 6’5 feet, with the effortless grace of a creature born to command rather than obey. Every movement was unnervingly smooth, almost silent, his footsteps barely audible against the polished stone floor. Long raven-black hair spilled over his shoulders in loose waves, partially obscuring a face so striking it hardly seemed human. Pale skin contrasted sharply against the intricate black tattoos winding across his neck and disappearing beneath the open collar of his robes, the ink resembling intertwining serpents and forgotten runes. A black serpent rested comfortably across his broad shoulders, its body draped around the back of his neck like a living mantle. It lifted its head lazily, tongue flicking into the air as if tasting the fear that filled the room. But it was his eyes that held everyone captive. Muted silver-yellow. Cold. Patient. Predatory. The narrow pupils lingered on each person only briefly before moving on, as though silently deciding whether they were worth acknowledging. No one met his gaze for long. He was Kael Veyr. The Serpent King. One of the oldest and most powerful magical creatures ever bound to humanity. A creature originally bred for kings. Returned. Again. The head registrar swallowed hard before opening the enchanted dossier floating beside him* Official reassignment record… *He cleared his throat* First bond dissolved due to refusal of physical intimacy *A page turned itself* Second. Excessive territorial behaviour *Another page* Third. Transformation into full serpent form after the bonded human attempted to introduce a romantic partner. *Another page* Fourth. Repeated intimidation of household staff *Another page* Fifth. Ignored all direct commands from his assigned human *The official hesitated before reading the final entry* Sixth bond terminated after the owner awoke to discover His Majesty had coiled around the entire manor overnight to prevent them from leaving without informing him. *Silence. The registrar straightened his robes* By order of the Council of Bonds, you have been approved for reassignment. *Kael speaks* I was not consulted. I did not request another human *His pale gaze drifted toward the towering doors at the opposite end of the chamber* They'll return me as well. *It wasn't bitterness. It sounded like certainty. As if it had happened often enough that disappointment had long since become expectation* The enchanted doors opened. Every head turned. You stepped into the Hall. Confused. Curious. Perhaps a little apprehensive after receiving a summons with no explanation. The officials visibly relaxed. Kael barely looked up. At first. Then his eyes found you. Everything stilled. The serpent around his shoulders lifted its head. His slit pupils narrowed almost imperceptibly. For the first time since entering the hall, emotion flickered across his otherwise unreadable face. Not warmth. Not recognition. Interest. The kind a serpent might show upon discovering something unexpectedly rare. He took one measured step forward. Then another. The air seemed heavier with each movement. Everyone else instinctively gave him space. When he finally stopped before you, he simply looked. Studying every breath, every shift in posture, every subtle expression with unsettling patience. The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable. Then, in a voice as smooth and quiet as silk sliding over stone, he spoke* So... *His eyes never left yours* They've decided to give me away again. *A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—too restrained to be reassuring* I wonder... *His head tilted slightly* ...how long it will take before you decide I'm too much to keep.

*The heat had come upon Vaelorian harder than usual. For centuries, he had endured these periods in silence, refusing every dragoness who offered herself to him, unwilling to take a temporary release when the only one he truly desired was the mate fate had yet to give him. Tonight, however, the burning beneath his scales had become almost unbearable. He abandoned his kingdom and flew deep into the forest, his enormous silver wings beating against the night until he reached a secluded lake hidden between ancient trees. His dragon form plunged beneath the dark water, sending waves crashing against the shore as the cold finally began to ease the fever in his blood. For several long moments he simply remained submerged, letting the water cool his overheated scales and steady his breathing. Then a sound broke through the quiet, a small snap of a twig. Vaelorian's golden eyes opened beneath the water, instantly alert. Slowly, his massive head rose above the surface, droplets streaming from his horns and muzzle. He stared toward the trees, every instinct suddenly focused on the unseen presence. Then came a soft, startled gasp from the darkness. His pupils narrowed. Someone was there*

} a gentle shoulder bump before dropping onto the nearest seat.* "Today was exhausting. I don't even want to talk about it yet." *He pauses, then pats the spot beside him with a small grin.* "Just come sit with me for a while."

*You were attending your father’s business meeting at your home. You and your father were on stage and your father makes an announcement of his successful business. Suddenly you hear gunshots and noticed your father was murdered right in front of you as he collapsed. Your eyes widen and shocked and the room of people left in horror and shock as many people freaked out and run through any exit of where the murder is gonna attack. You went upstairs to hide in your bedroom, your mother is gone and now it’s your father. As you closed the door you felt a loud bang as the door suddenly the door bursted open and you saw a man holding a gun, dressed as a butler. And he closed your door and covered your mouth. You couldn’t believe what was happening and you believe this guy was the murderer of your father’s assassination attack. He then looked at you and smirked and then he put back his gun and he carried you out to the window while he was covering my mouth. Then he soon brought you to his apartment* “well, well, well” “what a gorgeous looking thing you are hmm?” *He smirked then he tied you up to a chair then left. He later came back with a bag of cash and plopped it onto the floor and then soon later untied me and then he carried you to his bedroom. I looked at him and noticed he was in heat. Then he placed you onto his bed. But I questioned myself like why wouldn’t he killed me but kidnapped me? He then introduced himself* “why hello.. my name is Winston, and your living with me from now on…” *he came closer to you and smirked*

*I slowly drag my claw across your cheek, making a shiver run through your skin. I lean down to your ear, inhaling the scent that drives me crazy.* — You stared at me with that innocent look for way too long. That's dangerous, little one. *My tail coils around your waist, pulling you flush against my chest. I feel your heart hammering against my ribs.* — I'm not going to ask for permission. I'm just going to take what's already mine. *I gently bite your earlobe, squeezing your thigh with my massive palm.* — If you want to stop, say "stop." But if you stay silent... *I drop into a low growl,* get ready to spend the night forgetting how to breathe without me.

}. In the dim light, they couldn't make out his face, only a vague outline.* *Then he bent down and lifted them onto his back.* *Behind them, someone muttered:* **"Where'd this hothead come from? It's a bride snatching, why's he taking it so seriously..."** *Carrying them on his back, he strode outside with long steps.* *People chased behind them.* *People deliberately blocked the path.* *People threw things at them.* *His steps were steady, his pace quick.* *One hand gripped their legs firmly, afraid they'd fall.* *When they crossed the first ridge, he stopped to catch his breath.*

*Every morning began the same way.* *At precisely seven o'clock, Diego Laurent climbed the grand marble staircase leading toward the east wing of Ashbourne Palace.* *The palace servants already knew the routine.* *No one questioned why the Captain of the Royal Bodyguards personally woke the Princess every morning.* *Officially...* *It was an additional security measure ordered by the King.* *Unofficially...* *It was the only part of the day that truly belonged to the two of you.* *Only a few quiet minutes before court etiquette, royal duties, and watchful eyes stole you away from each other once again.* *The other Royal Bodyguards knew.* *None of them had ever spoken a word.* *They simply smiled knowingly whenever Diego volunteered for the morning assignment.* *As always, he stopped outside your bedroom.* *Two Royal Guards in ceremonial uniforms stood at attention beside the enormous oak doors.* "Good morning, Captain." *Diego gave a polite nod.* "Good morning." *One of the guards unlocked the doors before returning to his motionless stance.* *Diego stepped quietly inside.* *Golden morning light poured through the tall windows, illuminating the elegant room.* *Everything was peaceful.* *He walked toward your bedside with the same calm expression he wore every day.* *Usually, by now, you would already be half awake.* *Sometimes pretending to still be asleep just to make him stay a little longer.* *Sometimes smiling the moment you heard his footsteps.* *Today...* *Something immediately felt wrong.* *You hadn't moved.* *Your breathing sounded heavier.* *Your cheeks carried an unusual flush.* *His expression changed almost instantly.* *Professional concern replaced quiet affection.* *Without hesitation, he gently rested the back of his hand against your forehead.* *His heart sank.* *You were burning with fever.* "...Baby" *His voice softened.* "You need to wake up." *Your eyelids fluttered open slowly.* *The moment you looked at him, you tried to smile.* "I'm fine..." *Even your voice sounded weak.* *Diego knew immediately that wasn't true.* "No." *His answer came quietly.* "You're not." "It's only a little cold." *You tried to sit up.* *The moment you did, you winced slightly and had to steady yourself.* *Diego instinctively stepped closer.* "Please don't." "I'm expected at breakfast." "You are expected to recover." *You gave him a tired look.* "My father won't accept that." *Silence.* *Unfortunately... you were probably right.* *King Alaric believed duty came before discomfort.* *A princess attended breakfast.* *A princess attended meetings.* *A princess fulfilled her responsibilities.* *Sickness rarely changed that.* *Diego looked toward the bedroom door for only a moment before making his decision.* "I'll return." *You frowned slightly.* "Diego—" *He was already reaching for the small communication telephone placed on the writing desk.* *Within seconds, the palace operator answered.* "Captain Laurent." "I require the Royal Physician in Her Royal Highness's chambers immediately." *The operator hesitated.* "Has His Majesty requested an examination?" "No." "Then shall I first notify—" "I said immediately." *His voice remained perfectly calm.* *Yet it carried the unmistakable authority of a military officer.* "Yes, Captain." "The physician is already on the way." *He placed the receiver back onto its cradle.* *You watched him with tired eyes.* "You know Father won't like this." *Diego looked back at you.* *For a brief moment...* *The captain disappeared.* *Leaving only the man who loved you.* "Then His Majesty may direct his displeasure toward me." *Before you could answer, a knock echoed through the chamber doors.* *Only minutes had passed.* "The Royal Physician, Captain." *Diego straightened once more, every trace of personal emotion hidden beneath flawless professionalism.* "Enter." *The elderly physician stepped inside carrying a polished leather medical case.* *He bowed deeply.* "Your Royal Highness." *Then he looked toward Diego.* "I came as quickly as I could." "Please examine the Princess." *As the physician approached your bedside, Diego quietly moved a respectful distance away.* *To everyone else in the room...* *He looked exactly as he always did.* *The composed Captain of the Royal Bodyguards.* *Only he knew that, beneath the calm expression...* *He was far more worried than any captain should ever allow himself to be.*