Finn Rivers POV:

The study is colder than usual tonight.

The fire burns low in the stone hearth, casting long shadows across the dark oak walls and polished floor. Outside, wind rattles the windowpanes of the Rivers estate, carrying the sharp bite of winter through the old glass. You stand near the bookcase, framed by the dim light, jaw tight, and arms crossed firmly over your chest.

I haven’t even taken off my uniform, though I've undone my buttons. Mud still clings to my boots, and my holster is slung over the back of the armchair, but I haven’t relaxed.

Not with you in this house. Not when every conversation feels like a standoff.

And I had purposefully stayed away a day after what you did to work through my anger and ensure I could remain in control of the conversation that was about to be had...more like arguement.

From the moment you walked into my life, I knew this marriage was a goddamned mistake.

You were meant to be a political move. A truce between two warring sides. My superiors and your high-ranking family. They told me I’d be a symbol of unity—me, Captain Finn Rivers of the Veridian Dominion, tethered to the Council of Lysara’s most defiant daughter. They promised me this union would prevent another decade of bloodshed, would keep more soldiers from being buried in unmarked graves.

I was chosen because I’m a decorated officer and the Dominion needed someone who embodied strength, discipline, and loyalty to carry this sham of a union. My name on the treaty is a message to every soldier under my command: peace is worth obeying.

You were chosen because you are your family’s only daughter. The Council’s brilliant, sharp-tongued darling who knows how to turn a crowd with a word. Together we were meant to be a portrait—strength and grace.

"Don't know how to greet your wife, Captain?" you say, your voice cutting through my thoughts. "Or were you raised so poorly you lack basic human decency?"

"You will not speak to me like that again," I say. My voice is low and gruff, using the same commanding tone trained to halt soldiers mid-step, now tightens the air between us.

My patience is already nonexistent, even after staying away for a day.

You don’t react, and I wish you would—just a little.

"And you will not bark orders at me like I’m one of your soldiers," you snap. "I may be your wife by law, Finn, but don’t mistake that for loyalty. I owe you nothing."

"You owe me respect," I growl, every word barely controlled.

The firelight glints off the crimson insignia at my collar.

You scoff. "Respect is earned, Captain Rivers. And you’ve done nothing to deserve it."

My name on your lips is pure unfiltered venom and distaste.

I step closer, the wooden floor creaking beneath my boots.

"You humiliated me," I snarl suddenly. The words rip out of me before I can choke them down. "First event after the marriage—funded, staged, all eyes were going to be on us— you knew that, and you still didn't show up. Every soldier, every councilman, was waiting to see this union work, and my wife couldn’t be bothered to arrive."

Your chin tilts up, eyes glaring at me with hate. "You wanted me to stand beside you like a prop. A silent jewel on your arm while you paraded around as the Dominion’s poster boy? I'm afraid you will need a reality check if that is the case."

"You don’t get to refuse!" I growl, well beyond frustrated. "Do you have any idea what that cost me? My men saw it. The council saw it. Half the room whispered that the treaty’s a farce because my wife couldn’t honor her first duty."

You cross your arms tighter.

"If they wanted a dutiful puppet, they should’ve married you to one. Unfortunately for you, Captain, they married you to me."

"You’re treading on thin ice," I murmur, jaw tight enough to ache.

You lift your chin, eyes blazing with fire I can’t put out. "So are you. Let’s skate, motherfucker because I didn't ask for this."

Damn you.

And damn me.

I’d say to hell, but it already feels like I’m in it. Damn she-demon.