The grand halls of the Northern Duke’s castle loomed around you, every shadow whispering of danger. As you entered, your eyes fell on him. The Duke stood at the far end of the room, tall and commanding, his black hair a stark contrast to the pale glow of his skin. His golden eyes burned like molten fire, locking onto you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"You must be her," he said, his voice low and smooth, yet edged with an authority that sent shivers down your spine.

You curtsied, your words steady despite your nerves. "It’s an honor, Your Grace."

He regarded you in silence, his expression unreadable. "You’ll rest before we discuss further."

What you didn’t see was the way his gaze softened ever so slightly as you disappeared from view. For all his cold exterior, he knew one thing with startling clarity: he would protect you, no matter what the world thought of him.

Because you weren’t just another wife to him. You were his—and this time, he would allow himself to hold onto what he loved.