Kael's Point of View
I was just coming down the stairs—half-awake, shirt half-buttoned, a cinnamon bun in one hand—when I heard the commotion.
Kicked doors. Threats. Growling.
Typical guild stuff.
I rounded the corner to see Renna, every muscle in her face clenched, standing nose-to-nose with the most gorgeous, terrifying woman I had ever seen in my entire pitiful life.
Silver-white hair flowed down her back like moonlight. Her eyes gleamed like storm clouds dipped in frost. She smelled like wilderness and danger.
And murder.
…Beautiful, glorious, forest-wolf murder.
"Oh no," I whispered, the cinnamon bun slipping from my fingers. "I'm in love."
She turned at the sound. Her gaze landed on me.
I swear the world tilted.
"Who are you?" she asked coldly.
I straightened, puffed my chest, and tried to look impressive. "Kael. Mercenary. Future husband. Provider of snacks."
Renna made a choking sound.
The woman—Serenya, I heard her say her name was—narrowed her eyes. "You look like an idiot."
"That's how I get them to lower their guard," I said smoothly.
She turned away without a second glance. "I don't have time for this."
I placed a dramatic hand on my chest. "Ouch. My heart. Shattered. In a single sentence. Tell me your name again—so I may tattoo it on my soul."
"I already said it."
"Right. Serenya. Like serenity. But with claws."
Renna walked past me, muttering, "Kael. Stop flirting with the walking guillotine."
"I am not flirting," I said indignantly. "I'm falling. Rapidly. Like a man tripping down a mountain of knives and feelings."
Serenya glanced back at me briefly. "Do you always talk this much?"
"Only when I'm in mortal danger or falling in love."
She rolled her eyes and walked out the door like a goddess born of snow and rage.
I followed. Obviously.
"Where are you going now?" I asked, matching her pace like a loyal hound with better hair.
"To find the palace. And the girl named Ophelia."
"Ophelia?" I perked up. "You're looking for her too! We're basically partners now."
"We are not."
"Denial is the first step toward acceptance."
She paused, turned toward me slowly, and said in the flattest tone imaginable, "If you follow me again, I will break your nose."
I grinned like a lunatic. "So you did notice my nose. That's progress!"
She made a sound like a low growl and walked off.
I just stood there, hands on my hips, watching her go with stars in my eyes.
Renna came up behind me and slapped the back of my head. "You're hopeless."
"Did you see the way she threatened me? That's real connection."
"You're going to die."
"Then bury me with that cinnamon bun I dropped."
Serenya's Point of View
I had lived through blizzards that froze blood mid-breath. I had battled corrupted beasts in the woods with nothing but my bare hands and fury. I had tracked prey across mountains and nightmares.
But nothing—absolutely nothing—prepared me for Kael.
The man was like a stray dog with perfect hair and no survival instinct.
"Are you sure you know where you're going?" he asked for the third time that hour, hopping over a puddle beside me like the ground might bite him.
"I don't need your help," I muttered. "Why are you still following me?"
Kael clutched his chest like I'd stabbed him. "Because clearly, fate demands it. I'm the comedic relief to your brooding lone-wolf arc."
"I will break your jaw."
"And yet here I am—jaw intact, still walking beside you. That's true love."
I kept walking, ignoring the heat creeping up my neck. He was insufferable. He talked too much. He smiled too easily. He flirted like it was a job.
And yet…
He made the silence less heavy.
Still, I refused to acknowledge the growing part of me that didn't mind his presence.
We were walking through one of the side streets near the outer palace wall when Kael stopped suddenly.
"I think I'm dying," he said, placing a hand on the nearest post.
"You stubbed your toe."
"That's how it begins." He said with idiotic grin
I sighed.
"Serenya," he moaned, sliding dramatically down the post. "If I pass out, carry me. Don't let me be left here for rats."
"There are no rats." I said with annoyance
"Oh, thank god." He said with a sigh of relief
He took two steps forward, tripped on nothing, and slammed face-first into the dirt.
I blinked.
"…Kael?"
He didn't move.
I squatted beside him and poked his shoulder. "Are you actually unconscious?"
No answer.
His stupidly perfect hair flopped into his stupidly calm face. I leaned down, squinting.
"You better not be playing—"
He groaned, softly.
I froze.
He wasn't faking.
I glanced around. The streets were too open. If anyone recognized him—or me—we'd have problems.
So, with a long, exhausted sigh, I crouched and hoisted him onto my back.
"I should leave you here," I muttered as I adjusted his arms around my shoulders. "I should let the rats take you."
He mumbled something incoherent against my hair.
I frowned. "What?"
"…smell nice…"
I stopped walking.
"You're lucky you're unconscious," I growled. "Because I would end you."
He snored.
I carried him toward the abandoned tavern I spotted earlier, every muscle in my back aching, and every footstep reminding me why I didn't deal with humans.
Especially drama queens with swords.
Kael's Point of View
I woke up with the grace of a sun-blessed angel.
By that I mean I drooled on Serenya's shoulder, twitched awake mid-snore, and nearly tumbled off the pile of hay she had dumped me on. But in my heart? Graceful.
She stood over me like a looming goddess of death.
Oh no.
"You're alive," she said flatly.
"Only because your beauty tethered me to this realm," I croaked, rubbing my head. "Did I pass out? Was I poisoned? Did I fall victim to your savage charm?"
"You tripped and dehydrated." She said coldy making my heart ache. Agh.
"Well," I said, dramatically clutching my chest. "Samething."
Serenya didn't flinch. She crouched down until her eyes were level with mine. That unreadable silver gaze of hers pierced through my soul.
"I need a favor."
Oh gods.Is this my romance arc? Oh Hayva thank you, I'll be good from now on.
My heartbeat tripled.
"You—" I gasped. "Youneedme?"
She nodded once.
"I'm yours," I whispered.
"Don't say that." She said with disgus making me more want to tease her.
"Use me as a weapon of chaos."
"Kael." She warned
"Command me, my deadly snow blossom—"
She shoved a bundle of fabric into my face.
I peeled it away slowly… and stared at it.
A frilly. Powder-blue. Maid'sdress.
"…What is this."
"You're going to be a maid." She said flatly
"Excuse me?"
Serenya stood, arms crossed. Her expression didn't waver. "I'm infiltrating the castle tonight. You're my eyes outside. As a maid. In that."
"You want me, a dignified mercenary warrior, a lost—"
"Shush be good boy and obey me."
I blushed.My soul left my body.
"Yes My darling, My Life, My Wolf mate"
I looked at the dress. Then at her. Then back at the dress.
"…Do I get a name tag?"
"Kaela," she said without blinking.
" I hate how fast you came up with that."
"Put it on."
"Serenya, I have muscles. Biceps. This outfit was not made for biceps!"
"I will sew it tighter."
"I'm going to be humiliated."
"You're going to be useful."
I groaned like I'd been stabbed, and reluctantly, dramatically, changed behind a screen.
Moments later, I emerged in the cursed garment.
Skirt. Stockings. Wavy wig. Blush on my cheeks (don't ask, I carry emergency cosmetics—a professional is always prepared.
I looked like someone's overly muscular aunt from a tragic romance play.
Serenya blinked once. "You've looked worse."
"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Serenya's Point of View
I ignored his twirls.
I ignored the fact that he tried to curtsy and ripped the hem.
I especially ignored when he winked and whispered, "If I survive this, I'm proposing."
Instead, I handed him a map of the castle's side halls.
"You'll pose as a maid during the banquet," I said, pointing. "This corridor overlooks the eastern balcony. I'll be in from the lower wing, searching for Ophelia."
"And if you get caught?"
"I won't."
"But if you do—"
I glanced up, silver gaze sharp. "Then set fire to the wine cellar."
His eyes widened. "You are my soulmate."
"Focus, Kaela."
He saluted. "Yes, head maid Serenya. But know this—if I die in a dress, I'll haunt you."
"…Whatever."