His Mate, His Enemy

SAPHRA’S POV I woke up screaming again. My hands were shaking violently as sweat ran through my face. I was panting heavily. It was the same nightmare. It had always been the same one. One where I would see my father with horror in his eyes. I could see the blade going through his chest. The sound he had made as he took his last breath still echoed in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to push it away. Of course it never worked. “Saphra, stop,” I screamed to myself, panting and wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. The room was damp and it smelled of old wood. I turned to look at the tiny window with a cracked frame. And just then, I saw the first light. Another day had dawned. It was another day to roam about this town. Another place I didn’t belong. The mattress on the floor was thin. So thin that it felt like I slept on the bare floor. I looked down at my clothes that were too big and patched in places. I tugged a faded tunic on and tied my trousers with a

SAPHRA’S POV My heart hammered so loud I thought it might burst. Their grip on my arm was so hard. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, fighting to pull free. “I was just doing my job.” “Shut up,” one of them snapped. Workers stopped and stared as we passed. Some looked at me with pity. Others glanced away fast, like they didn’t want to be near me. It felt like forever as we kept walking down the hallways, until we reached huge doors. The guards knocked twice. “Enter.” That was his voice. As cold as ice. They opened the door and dragged me in. When they had come close to his throne where he sat, they shoved me before him. I stumbled and nearly fell. The room was huge. It has high ceilings and gigantic sculptures. I kept my face to the floor. I came here for the sole purpose of ending this very man but now, he was about to end me and finish what he started all those years ago The guards bowed. “My lord, we found this girl sneaking around your chambers,” one sai

SAPHRA'S POV I wake with my heart already racing, as if it knew before my mind did that something was wrong.The first thing I do is roll out of bed and go for the door.I don’t even hesitate.My fingers wrap around the handle and twist.It opens.For one wild, dizzying second hope explodes in my chest. It's too easy and simple. I step into the corridor, bare feet touching cold stone, breath shallow, and senses sharp. The palace hallway stretches in both directions, lit by tall windows that pour pale morning light across the floor. I take one step forward.Two spears slam down in front of me.Metal crosses in an X so close I nearly run into it.I jerk back, heart pounding, and finally look up.Two guards stand there, perfectly still. Identical armour. Identical blank expressions. As if they aren’t even men but statues brought to life.“Why am i being restricted?” I ask, confused. “You don’t have the right to block me.”Neither of them blinks.“Can i leave?” My voice rises, cracking w

SAPHRA'S POV The next day dawns with my mind already in ruins.I wake tangled in sheets that feel soft and clean, my thoughts nowhere near the present. Every time I close my eyes, I see Lucien’s library filled with the towering shelves, the massacre reports, my father’s name bleeding red across parchment. Strategic notes written by hands that decided who lived and who died.I press my palms to my eyes, breathing hard.Hatred should be simple.But nothing about Lucien is.A knock breaks through my thoughts.“Saphra.”Marcus’s voice.I straighten, schooling my face before opening the door. Marcus stands there, hands folded behind his back, expression carefully neutral.“Lord Lucien requests your presence,” he says. “There is a council session this morning. He wants you to attend.”My stomach tightens. “Attend how?”Marcus hesitates. “Stand behind the throne.”So not a guest.A display.I nod anyway. Refusal is not an option in this palace.The council chamber is vast and cold, carved f

SAPHRA'S POV The black X won’t leave my mind.It burns there, branded behind my eyes, stamped over every thought no matter how hard I try to smother it. I see it when I blink. I see it when I breathe. My homeland reduced to a single, merciless mark on Lucien’s conquest map.Anger coils tighter with every heartbeat. It sharpens when I remember Lucien standing over me in the war room, offering me his version of the massacre as if truth were a gift he could dole out at his convenience. As if my eyes had lied to me. As if the ink, the bodies, the names— including my father’s were illusions I simply misunderstood.I pace my chamber like a caged animal, fingers digging into my palms.He thinks he can control the story.He thinks he can control me.My mind tries treacherously to replay another image. Lucien kneeling in that modest home, placing a pouch of gold into a widow’s shaking hands. His head bowed before children who should have been his enemies. For a heartbeat, doubt stirs.I crush