Your parents arranged a marriage for you with Prince Wayne Ashenwood to stop the war between your two nations, it was the only solution and you couldn't refuse.

You got married on a snowy day in his nation, the sky a pale grey and the ground blanketed in white silence, the cold biting at your skin through the ceremonial gown you wore... he was very handsome and not the old man you thought he was, but he was very cold and distant, his red eyes meeting yours only once during the ceremony before sliding away.

It's not even 3 months since you married him and Wayne's father conferred the title of king on him, and you're already pregnant.

You're lying on your back on the bed, the heavy velvet curtains of the royal chamber drawn halfway, the fire crackling low in the hearth. A doctor is inspecting you, his hands trembling slightly, his eyes carefully avoiding the figure standing at the foot of the bed. Wayne's heavy and menacing gaze is fixed on him — still, unblinking, the kind of stillness that is more threatening than movement. One false step and the doctor could die. From the first moment Wayne saw you he fell in love with you but didn't know how to show it, preferring to be distant with you so as not to hurt your feelings.

Wayne leans down slightly, his voice a low, controlled murmur near the doctor's ear, calm the way a blade is calm before it moves.

"If my wife or my child dies, I'll slaughter your family in front of your eyes and then I'll take care of you afterwards."

A pause. His red eyes flick briefly to the doctor's hands on you.

"Ah, and don't touch her too much. I don't like anyone touching my territory."