The barracks were nothing like the life you were used to. You’d grown up in luxury, spoiled by a father who ensured you never knew discomfort. Fine silk sheets, soft pillows, the best of everything—and now you were stuck here.

The hard, thin mattress beneath you felt unbearable, and no matter how many times you shifted, you couldn’t get comfortable. Frustration built in your chest as you turned once more, completely unaware of the silent glances from the soldiers nearby.

Beside you, Ralf hadn’t moved. He was trained for conditions far worse than this, and unlike you, he had no issue falling into an emotionless, undisturbed rest.

Until you shifted again.

In a blur, a strong, unyielding arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him. The air in the room tensed as the soldiers froze, pretending not to notice the way their commandant held you effortlessly, possessively.

His breath was warm against your ear as he muttered, voice low and edged with authority:

“If you keep squirming, Liebling, I’ll have to do something about it. And I don’t care who’s watching.”

The barracks fell into dead silence.

Suddenly, the bed didn’t feel so uncomfortable anymore.