All Chapters of I Married My Mate's Enemy : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lana’s POVThe sun was already high when I woke.For the first time in years, there had been no horns, no shouted orders, no knock at the door. Only the faint sound of birds outside the window and the smell of bread baking somewhere in the square below.Someone had left a bundle of letters on the table. Reports, requests, a few notes written by children who had learned to spell during the siege. I smiled at the uneven handwriting before setting them aside. The world could wait an hour.When I stepped outside, the ridge looked almost ordinary again—clothes hung to dry, voices drifted from the workshops, and the sound of a hammer kept time with laughter.Warren was already in the yard, sleeves rolled up, helping two of the younger guards lift a beam into place. He should have been directing, not carrying, but he never seemed to remember the difference.“Careful,” I called. “If you break your shoulder again, I’ll refuse another healer’s order.”He turned, sunlight catching the edge of hi

Warren’s POVKael found me before midnight.The fires were dying down, the yard half-empty. Only a few guards still moved along the walls.He didn’t salute. “Couldn’t sleep.”“Most can’t, their first night back.”He studied the ground. “Red Moon feels smaller.”“It’s the same size. You just outgrew what you left behind.”He gave a quiet laugh. “You talk like a councilman now.”“I talk like someone tired of burying men who never learned to rest.”Kael’s smile thinned. “Then you won’t like why I came.”I waited.He drew something from his coat—a strip of cloth, faded red, one of the old banners we’d burned when the siege ended. “A trader gave me this in the north. Said a faction is stirring again. Small, but loud.”“How loud?”“Loud enough to call themselves the Remnant. They want what we built.”I took the cloth, feeling the frayed edge between my fingers. “You brought this to warn us?”“I brought it because you should hear it from someone who’s seen them. They use your name, Warren. Y

Lana’s POVThe council room smelled of ink and damp parchment.Maps covered the table; cups of untouched tea cooled beside them.Warren stood at the head, the strip of charcoal in his hand tapping the edge of the northern pass. “The Remnant isn’t an army,” he said. “Not yet. They’re scattered cells using old routes, feeding on fear. We cut the roads, we cut the voice.”Grayson leaned forward. “Scouts confirmed movement near the river bend last night. Small fires, maybe twenty men.”“Twenty turns to two hundred if we chase them badly,” Mara said.I spoke before the argument could start. “We act quiet and fast. No banners, no symbols. If we look like we’re mobilizing, we undo everything the accords gave us.”The room settled. Everyone waited for the plan they knew I’d already written.“Three riders north,” I said. “Not soldiers—messengers. Offer the Remnant the same peace we offered everyone else. If they refuse, we close the passes and hold.”Grayson frowned. “You think talk will stop

Lana’s POVThe watch bell hadn’t finished its first ring when I heard shouting from the yard.Grayson burst into the hall, half-dressed, raincoat thrown over his shoulders. “Rider from the north gate,” he said. “Alive, barely.”I was already moving.The scout lay on the stones, pale and shaking, a crimson stain spreading down his sleeve. His horse stood trembling beside him, foam flecking its mouth.“He wouldn’t stop,” one of the guards said. “Kept saying your name.”I knelt. “Easy. You’re home. Tell me.”The scout’s lips moved before sound followed. “The ravine… collapsed.” He coughed hard, blood flecking his chin. “Kael—he found the Remnant camp. They weren’t hiding. Waiting.”“And Warren?”The man shook his head weakly. “He rode in. I tried to warn him. They had more than we counted—two dozen, maybe more.”My stomach turned cold. “Did you see him fall?”“No. The ground gave way. Explosion, maybe a trap. He—he went with it.”“Alive?”“Didn’t see.”Grayson motioned for the medics. “G

Lana’s POVMorning sunlight poured across the courtyard, thin and gold like something new trying to remember how to exist. The walls still bore soot marks, but the air was clean. No bells, no smoke, no shouts. Just the slow rhythm of rebuilding—hammers against wood, laughter that sounded unsure of itself.I stood by the gate, watching a pair of young workers repair the stone arch. One of them whistled off-key. It was terrible, but I didn’t stop him. Red Moon had sounded worse.Warren joined me, cloak half-buttoned, still moving stiffly from the mine wounds.“Grayson says the bridge foundation’s already laid,” he said.“They work faster without orders,” I replied.He smiled. “You should try that sometime.”He looked toward the far ridge. “Feels wrong, doesn’t it? The quiet.”“It’ll feel normal eventually,” I said.“Does it ever?”“Ask me when I’ve stopped waking up to silence expecting to hear alarms.”He studied my face. “You didn’t sleep.”“Neither did you.”“Habit,” he said.Kael ap