Seraphina's POV
My hands won't stop shaking.
I stare at the wedding dress hanging before me—blood red, like they planned it as a joke. Like they want everyone to remember what happened five years ago when Thornhaven soldiers painted our palace floors with my family's blood.
"Princess, we must hurry." Morgana's voice pulls me back. She's the only person from home I have left, the only one who still calls me princess instead of just... her. The conquered girl. The trophy wife.
"Don't call me that," I whisper. "I'm not a princess anymore."
"You will always be a princess to me." Morgana touches my shoulder gently. "Your mother would want you to be strong today."
My mother. I close my eyes and I'm seventeen again, crouched behind a stone column, watching soldiers drag my mother across the throne room. Her crown fell off. I remember that detail so clearly—how it rolled toward me, splattered with red.
"Seraphina, where are you?" my mother had screamed. "Run!"
But I couldn't move. I was frozen, useless, a coward.
I watched Prince Caspian Thorne walk through our palace gates, his sword dripping. I watched him give orders while my father died. I watched everything burn.
And now I have to marry him.
"I can't do this," I say, opening my eyes.
"You can." Morgana begins unlacing my robe. "You're the last of the Aldric line. This marriage is the only way to bring peace. The only way to save what's left of our people."
Peace. What a pretty word for surrender.
I let Morgana dress me because I have no choice. The red fabric slides over my skin like a warning. In the mirror, I barely recognize myself. My dark hair is pinned with jewels that once belonged to my grandmother. My face is pale, making my green eyes look too bright, too scared.
I look like a girl playing dress-up in her own funeral.
"There," Morgana says softly. "Beautiful."
"I look like I'm bleeding," I reply.
A knock sounds at the door. My heart jumps into my throat.
"It's time, my lady." A guard's voice, gruff and Thornhaven-accented. Foreign. Enemy.
Morgana squeezes my hand. "Remember—you're stronger than they know. You survived when they tried to destroy you. You can survive this too."
I nod, even though I don't believe her.
The walk to the cathedral feels like walking to my execution. Guards line the hallways—Thornhaven soldiers, the same uniforms I saw five years ago. Some of them might have been there that night. Some of them might have killed my brothers.
My stomach twists, but I keep my head high.
The cathedral doors loom ahead, massive and decorated with flowers. White roses. My mother's favorite. Someone chose them on purpose, to hurt me.
It's working.
The doors open, and I see him.
Prince Caspian Thorne stands at the altar, and even from here, I can tell he's huge. Tall and broad-shouldered in his military uniform, covered in medals that probably celebrate murdering people like me. His dark hair is neat, his face expressionless.
He doesn't even look up when I enter.
Rage burns through my fear. He can't even bother to look at me? The girl he's being forced to marry? The princess whose family he destroyed?
I start walking down the aisle. Every step feels wrong. The nobles whisper as I pass—pitying looks, curious stares. They're wondering if I'll cry. If I'll run.
I won't give them the satisfaction.
Halfway down the aisle, something strange happens. A tingling spreads through my fingers, warm and electric. My magic. The forbidden blood magic that woke up the night my family died, born from grief and rage.
No. Not now. I can't lose control now.
I breathe slowly, forcing the power down. It fights me, wanting to explode outward, to hurt everyone in this room. To make them feel what I felt.
But I'm stronger than that. I have to be.
Finally, I reach the altar. Caspian still hasn't looked at me. Up close, he's even more intimidating—easily a foot taller than me, all sharp angles and controlled strength. A scar cuts through his left eyebrow. His jaw is tight, like he's grinding his teeth.
He looks miserable.
Good. I hope he hates this as much as I do.
The priest begins talking about unity and peace and new beginnings. Lies, all of it. This isn't a wedding. It's a funeral for everything I used to be.
"Prince Caspian Thorne," the priest says. "Do you take this woman—"
"I do." His voice is deep and flat, cutting off the priest mid-sentence. He wants this over with quickly.
So do I.
"Princess Seraphina Aldric," the priest continues. "Do you take—"
"I do," I say, even though what I mean is, I'll destroy you all.
"Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife."
The priest looks at Caspian expectantly. "You may kiss the bride."
My heart stops.
No. No, we didn't discuss this part. Nobody said anything about—
Caspian finally looks at me. Our eyes meet for the first time, and the world narrows to just his face. His eyes are gray, like storm clouds, and there's something in them I don't expect.
Pain.
He looks at me like I'm hurting him just by existing.
Then he leans down, moving slowly, giving me time to pull away. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, and his touch is so gentle it shocks me.
His lips brush mine, soft and quick and careful.
And in that moment, power explodes between us.
My blood magic surges, connecting with something inside him—something I didn't know was there. Energy. Magic. Power that mirrors my own.
Impossible.
The Thorne family has no magic. Everyone knows that.
Caspian jerks back, his eyes wide. He felt it too.
Around us, the crowd erupts in applause, but I barely hear them. I'm staring at my new husband, whose hand is trembling against his side.
"What are you?" I whisper.
But before he can answer, the cathedral doors burst open.
A soldier runs in, panicked and bloody. "Your Majesty! King Aldric has been attacked! The Aldorian resistance—they've breached the palace!"
Chaos erupts. Nobles scream. Guards rush toward the doors.
And Caspian grabs my wrist, his grip iron-strong.
"Come with me," he says urgently. "Now. Or you'll die here."
I try to pull away. "I'm not going anywhere with you—"
"They're not here to save you, Seraphina." His gray eyes bore into mine. "They're here to kill you."
The cathedral's stained glass windows shatter inward, and arrows rain down on the wedding guests.
Caspian throws himself over me as the world explodes into screams and blood and broken glass.
And I realize with horr
ible certainty that my wedding day is about to become another massacre.