Dinner was quiet. Too quiet.
The only sounds that came were the scrape of cutlery and the soft hiss of the lantern.
Half the steak on Anna's plate lay untouched.
She forced another bite down, but it tasted like nothing. The more she tried to eat, the tighter her throat felt.
Her thoughts wouldn't leave her.
'Your punishment is still waiting.'
Her grip on the knife tightened. Her palms were damp.
If Ayden had come by, she could at least distract herself. But the assistant healer hadn't appeared today. The tent felt stifling without anyone else's voice, and she was alone with her dread.
Across from her, Kyren ate heartily.
Weeks on the road had sharpened his appetite, and he seemed to enjoy every bite. The knights had always been good cooks; it was one of the few comforts of camp life.
He looked utterly at ease.
Since returning from his task that afternoon, he had spoken little. Anna's stomach twisted when she caught sight of the faint bloodstains on his sleeve, but she did not dare ask.
And with every stretch of silence from him, her unease only tightened, coiling her nerves ever further.
Later, Kyren sat by the table, calmly cleaning his sword.
Cloth slid along steel—slow, deliberate—polishing the blade as though it were a cherished relic. Its surface caught his sharp features, reflecting them like a mirror.
"Why are you so quiet tonight?"
The question made her flinch; she nearly jumped at the sound of his voice.
"N-Nothing."
"You talked a lot this afternoon, yet you were out of words and barely ate at dinner."
"I'm not hungry."
His eyes flicked to her.
"That's unlikely of you."
His voice wasn't harsh. It wasn't even cold. But it carried weight. The kind that made soldiers stand straighter.
"If something's on your mind," he added, "say it."
Her lips parted. Then she remembered.
'Don't ask again… This was the last time.'
Right… he had made that clear. Very clear.
"…It's nothing," she murmured.
Her fingers twisted into her skirt.
***
'Fine. If it had to happen… better now. Better than waiting all night.'
She walked slowly to the bed, feeling his gaze on her back the entire time.
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt. But running was not an option, nor was hiding. With trembling hands, she reached for the straps of her dress.
One knot.
Then another.
Fabric loosened and slid to the ground.
Cool air kissed her bare shoulders, and she gathered her hair to one side.
Her back was exposed. Then, her voice came out small.
"…I'm ready. You can do it now."
Silence.
Then—
***
Kyren's blue eyes darkened, gleaming like the ocean under moonlight. He swallowed, his throat working once—twice—his composure slipping for the briefest second.
Heat surged through him at the sight before him, rushing from his chest to the tips of his fingers.
It had been far too long since he had held her, touched her—since he had felt the softness that was his alone. And that was only on their wedding night.
And now she stood there like this, bare-backed, vulnerable, offering herself without protest.
He hadn't known Anna could be this bold or have such an unaware temptation.
Something hungry flickered behind his gaze.
It was absurd—almost embarrassing—how easily she unravelled him. Like a starving man catching the scent of bread. Like instinct overpowering reason.
Every glimpse of her skin stirred the same fierce, possessive want inside him. Even when she had been thin and weak before, the urge had never faded.
No other woman had ever drawn this from him—only her.
Behind him, Anna squeezed her eyes shut, fists clenched tight, bracing herself for what she thought would come.
'Don't cry! Don't cry!'
A warm touch landed suddenly on her shoulder blade.
She flinched, bracing for pain—believing it was the first strike of a whip.
But no sting came. No burning lash. Only warmth.
Confusion flickered through her fear. Then she felt it again, slower this time.
Warm. Damp. Lingering. A soft touch against her skin that sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.
'Wait… This wasn't a flogging at all.'
Her eyes flew open. What he gave her wasn't a punishment… but a kiss.
She spun around, clutching her chest.
"What are you doing?" she asked, staring up at him, utterly baffled.
The commander blinked back at her, equally perplexed.
"Responding to my wife's invitation," he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You practically presented yourself to me."
"Invitation?" Her brows knit together. "I wasn't inviting you—"
She faltered, then blurted out, "Aren't you going to hit me?!"
"...Hit you? Why would I ever do that?"
Kyren's brows drew together the moment the word left her lips, disbelief flashing across his face.
"The punishment," Anna said quietly, almost defensively. "You said you were going to punish me."
Her eyes trembled, searching his expression as though bracing for confirmation.
"What in the world are you talking about…?" he muttered, dragging a hand down his face, half exasperated, half stunned. Then realisation struck.
"…You thought I meant beating you?"
No words came. No words were needed as her expression already said everything.
So that was it. The silence. The fear. The way she'd been acting all evening.
"Aren't you?" she asked again, small and uncertain, as if afraid of the answer either way.
"Which madman do you take me for?"
"But— in Ardel, husbands—"
"We are not in Ardel!" His voice dropped, firm as steel. "No Cassian man lays a hand on his woman. If anyone tried, I'd break his arms myself."
She froze.
"Oh…"
Realisation crept up her face.
"So… you weren't going to… whip me?"
"…Whip you?" He looked genuinely offended now. "Gods, Anna."
Her cheeks burned, eyes blinking, trying to understand.
"Then… what punishment is it going to be?"
He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of him and smell the scent of leather, steel, and soap after washing.
His fingers slid under her chin, lifting her face.
"You ran barefoot across the camp."
Her breath caught.
"You opposed me… in front of my men."
His thumb brushed slowly over her lower lip.
"And you dared to question my decision."
His voice dropped, rougher now, close enough that she felt it against her skin.
"That," he said, "deserves punishment."
Her heart skipped.
His gaze darkened.
"So I'm going to make you pay for it properly."
Before she could ask, his mouth claimed hers.
Hot. Certain. Nothing like the soft brush earlier. This kiss was possession. Full of demand.
His hand slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Armour had been removed, but he was still solid muscle and heat, overwhelming and inescapable.
A small gasp escaped her, and he swallowed it. Then, his tongue brushed hers, slow at first, then deeper, coaxing.
Anna's knees weakened. Her fingers fisted into his tunic without thinking.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathing hard.
"I won't hurt you," he muttered against her lips. "Ever."
Then, softer—
"But I do want you."
The words burned hotter than anything else.
Not an order, not a command. But a desire.
Raw and honest.
"Would you let me?"
Even though he could have taken what was already his, he still chose to ask her and wait for her answer.
"…Yes."
That was all he needed.
Kyren lifted Anna easily, cradling her in his arms before laying her onto the bed with tender care.
His hand ran along her thigh. His lips traced down her neck. Making her shiver with every touch.
"Ky… Kyren…"
Her calling made him halt his kiss. But his fingers were still working their magic. Had she hesitated?
"Hmmm?"
"I-I don't remember our first time," she admitted, cheeks blushing.
That piece of memory, amidst all of the others, never came back. But, for him, it didn't matter.
"Then I'll just need to remind you…" He murmured against her skin, "…and I'll have this one unforgettable."
The lantern flickered low.
And the rest of the night disappeared into warmth, breath, and tangled sheets.