Kyren's blue eyes lingered on the woman lying helplessly in his arms.
Anna's eyes were shut tight, her breathing slow and even as her body nestled comfortably against his chest.
Her long locks spilt over his shoulder, carrying that faint, ripe-apple scent he had come to recognise as hers.
It wrapped around him—soft, sweet, warm.
Her delicate hands rested unmoving against his chest.
In their closeness, he could see her clearly. A small oval face. Smooth brow. Slender nose. Pointed chin.
"Cute," Kyren murmured with a faint smirk.
His gaze drifted lower as he slid the blanket down.
The soft curves of her bre*sts were partially revealed beneath the fabric. Marks bloomed across her pale skin—along her slender neck, her shoulders, her chest.
Some had already darkened into blue.
His chest tightened, and a quiet sigh escaped him. All of it was his doing. His large hand rose and gently stroked her hair, far more careful now than he had been last night.
She looked like a porcelain doll.
Small. Fragile. Innocent.
Even with the faint scars tracing her body from old wounds, she was still captivating.
Last night returned to him in fragments—the heat, the way she clung to him, the sounds she made, the dizzying ecstasy that swallowed every thought in his mind.
Everything else had disappeared.
He was like a lost man in the desert, wandering with a parched throat and cracked lips, and she was the quiet oasis that appeared at last—calm, gentle, and enough to quench him completely.
'Why am I feeling like this towards her…?'
The question surfaced quietly.
The closer she was, the stronger it grew.
It felt irrational.
They had been strangers when fate bound them in marriage, their time together so brief it could be counted on one hand.
Yet no matter how far he went, his thoughts strayed back to her again and again.
Her face. Her voice. Her small hands gripping his clothes.
He would picture her dewy eyes and soft touch in his mind, and every time, an unexplainable ache would settle in his chest.
He had never yearned for anyone like this. Not once. It felt as if something invisible had tied their souls together.
Then she stirred. Her lashes fluttered.
Slowly, Anna opened her eyes—only to find him already watching her.
"Good morning," Kyren greeted softly.
Confusion came first, but then colour rushed to her cheeks.
She quickly grabbed the blanket and pushed herself up, trying to cover herself, though it barely helped.
She was still embarrassed, still shy about revealing her body to him, despite what they did last night.
Kyren rose with her. The moment she tried to move away, his arm slipped around her waist and pulled her back against his bare chest.
"Where are you going?" he asked quietly.
"N-nowhere… I'm just getting up. It's morning already," she replied.
She could feel the solid warmth of him behind her. Firm. Unyielding.
"It's almost noon, actually," he said with a smirk.
"Oh…"
Her face burned.
Memories of last night flooded back.
The way he had moved—the way he had taken her apart piece by piece until she couldn't think straight.
No wonder she had overslept.
Despite trying to be gentle, Kyren had lost himself more than once. His restraint had come loose again and again, his movements turning rough, urgent, hungry.
At first, it had hurt her.
But he had learned her body quickly—touching, coaxing, finding the places that made her melt and forget the discomfort.
Pleasure slowly drowned out the pain.
By the end, she was no longer pushing him away but clutching at him instead, nails digging into his shoulders as soft gasps spilt from her lips.
Each sweep of his fingers left her weaker, softer, boneless beneath him, until the world dissolved into heat and breath and him.
The last thing she remembered was the steady beat of his heart before sleep stole her away.
She truly had been… 'punished'.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, brushing his knuckles against her cheek.
"I'm fine…"
"Did I satisfy you?"
Her brain froze.
"What—?!"
Her face turned bright red instantly.
She wished she could disappear from his sight.
No one had ever asked her something like that before. Not that there had ever been another man.
He was her first. Her only.
All her life, she had been taught that a wife must obey, must accept her husband wholeheartedly, and must endure whatever came without complaint.
No one had ever told her that her own feelings as a woman mattered at all.
And yet… he asked.
"…It was fine," she whispered.
"Fine?" His brow lifted. "Just fine?"
"N-no—! It was good! Great, actually!" she rushed out.
Because if he misunderstood, he might—
'Oh, God! Please no…'
Every inch of her still throbbed from last night. She couldn't bear another bout of his relentless affection, not even once more.
"Really?"
"Yes!"
"Then why are you hesitating?"
"…I'm just sore," she admitted quietly.
Guilt crossed his face in an instant.
"I was too rough. Did I hurt you anywhere else?"
Before she could stop him, he pulled the blanket down to her waist, eyes trailing over her body as he inspected every mark with a frown.
"It doesn't hurt," she insisted quickly.
"I'll call Rafe and Ayden."
"That's not necessary!" she protested. "My body bruises easily."
Kyren exhaled slowly.
"I caused these," he muttered. "I should take responsibility. You're my woman, remember?"
His thumb brushed her cheek again, gently.
"But it's always been like that," she explained softly. "Even sleeping alone, I bruise sometimes."
He studied her for a long moment.
"…Be careful and don't get hurt. Take care of yourself. Do it for me."
His voice softened.
She nodded.
"Still," he added, "let them treat you. Just in case."
Not wanting to argue further, she relented.
Kyren had already said it twice, and she knew better than to press him when his mind was set.
"Let's wash up and eat first," he said.
Then he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
The man before her was so different from the feared commander everyone else knew… So unbearably gentle.
***
As Rafe and Ayden stepped into the tent, they found Anna reclining on the bed while Kyren sat at her side.
"Is my lady unwell again?" the healer asked, brows knitting at the sight.
"I'm not sick. I can get up—"
Anna tried to push herself upright, but Kyren's hand pressed gently yet firmly against her shoulder, guiding her back down.
"Lie still. You're hurt," he said.
"Not anymore…" she murmured in protest.
"You agreed to be treated, didn't you?" His tone brooked no chance for argument. "So listen to me and don't move. Until Rafe and Ayden say otherwise, you're not stepping off this bed."
The quiet authority in his voice ended the matter.
Anna sighed and gave in.
"What happened?" Ayden asked, concerned.
"Check on her, and you'll know," Kyren said, already rising. "I'll wait outside."
Without another word, he stepped out of the tent.
The assistant healer approached the bedside and asked, "What's wrong? You were fine just the other day."
"I'm fine," the princess insisted softly. "Kyren is only exaggerating."
"The commander doesn't summon us for nothing," Rafe said, sensing there was more. "Tell us exactly what happened so we can treat you properly."
Under their serious gazes, Anna slowly lowered the shawl from her neck.
"It's only a few marks… They don't hurt."
Both men froze.
Dark bruises and red blossoms of bites littered her neck and collarbones—far too many to count at a glance. It looked, at first sight, as though she had been assaulted.
"My God… what happened to you?" Ayden choked.
"Did he hit you?" the healer asked sharply.
"Heavens, no! Of course not!" Anna blurted at once, flustered.
"Then—"
She flushed.
Understanding dawned, and both men went silent.
"…Are there more?" the assistant healer asked carefully.
"J-just a little… elsewhere…" Her voice dwindled to a whisper.
Rafe cleared his throat.
Damage that was apparent on the surface raised concerns about trauma elsewhere—areas far more vulnerable, particularly for a woman who had only recently recovered.
The healer's gaze lowered briefly. Not to linger, but to assess.
"Did you bleed?" he asked.
Anna squeezed her eyes shut, mortified.
"My lady," he said gently, "I know it's embarrassing, but I need to know."
"…Only a little," she admitted. "It has already stopped. It doesn't hurt much."
Rafe let out a slow breath, frustration tightening his expression. Weeks of careful recovery—of patience and vigilance—had nearly been undone in one night.
A husband's rights did not excuse a lack of compassion. Kyren knew how fragile she was, yet he had still taken her with reckless force.
Ayden had already been staring in stunned silence when the healer voiced the question.
The moment the answer came, confirming everything they feared, his restraint finally snapped.
"That's it!" he shot to his feet. "I'm going to crack that id*ot's skull—"
Rafe grabbed his shoulder.
"You won't even get close. I'll speak to him. You stay and tend to her."
The healer's expression hardened as well. This was no trivial matter, especially when it concerned his patient.
"Rafe! I–it's all right. I'm fine—truly!" Anna exclaimed, alarm flickering in her eyes as she feared a confrontation between him and her husband.
"Don't worry," he replied curtly. "We'll just talk."
With that, the healer rose and strode out at a brisk pace—his set jaw making it clear this would be far more than a mild conversation.
***
Outside, Kyren looked up the moment Rafe emerged.
"How is she?"
The healer stopped in front of him, arms crossed, expression dark.
"She could've been better," he snapped. "How could you be that rough with her? Do you know she bled?"
Kyren's jaw tightened.
He had noticed the bleeding the moment Anna got up from the bed, panic flaring despite his rigid appearance.
Though it stopped shortly after, her quiet assurances that she felt no pain had done little to ease him.
He had summoned the healer and his assistant immediately—unwilling to gamble with her safety, not even for a moment.
"I didn't mean to hurt her."
"You've shared a bed before," Rafe said sharply. "Bleeding the first time is expected. But it should not happen again. Not like this. What did you do to her?"
Guilt consumed the commander so completely that he lowered his gaze, unable to meet the healer's sharp stare.
"…Last night was different."
"How?"
Kyren hesitated, then exhaled slowly.
"She wasn't intoxicated. She knew exactly what we were doing," he said, voice low. "She responded to me… completely, and I-I lost control."
"You lost control?" Rafe scoffed, incredulous. "You? The Knight Commander?"
Kyren fell silent for a moment.
"I've never wanted anyone like that before," he said at last, quieter now, almost rough with shame. "Not once in my life. She's the first. I tried to hold back… but when she held me back…" His gaze drifted as he recalled their warm night. "I was overwhelmed. I didn't know what to do with it. I just… lost myself."
The healer blinked. "You've never felt lust before?"
Kyren shook his head. "Not once. It started the night we met. I thought it would fade. But, it didn't."
"…And you still handled her like she's made of steel," Rafe muttered. "She's your wife, not a battlefield. Even if you wanted her that much, you could be gentler."
The commander looked away. "…I know. It's my fault. I'm sorry."
The apology caught Rafe off guard. Kyren Raychard was a man of iron resolve—decisive, stern, and famously unbending. Regret was not something he voiced, much less admitted.
After a moment, the healer sighed.
"If you can't control yourself, I'm moving her to the infirmary."
"What? No!" Kyren's head snapped up. "Absolutely not!"
"She's my patient. I'm not leaving her here to get hurt again."
"I won't let her be! I swear I won't touch her!" Kyren protested, almost desperate. "Please. Just… let her stay with me."
Rafe stared at him. The grand duke was pleading.
Such a rare sight was enough to shock everyone. Why was he so infatuated with his new wife?
That made him wonder.
Ever since the princess arrived, the commander had changed. He was noticeably softer, less ruthless than before.
Rafe had seen it himself each time he came to the tent to tend to her. He was caring, doting on her as if she were precious to him.
She had even made him reduce the subordinates' sentences—an act that became a topic of quiet discussion throughout the camp.
The change was sudden, unmistakable, and for all its surprise, not unwelcome.
"…Fine," Rafe relented at last. "But if I see even one new bruise, she's moving. No arguments."
Kyren exhaled in relief.
"…Understood."
As the healer turned back inside, a faint smirk tugged at the commander's lips.
Tonight… Anna would still be in his arms.