“I love you.”

There’s no hesitation in his words. No uncertainty, no wavering. You almost think you’ve misheard, but the truth is undeniable—especially when he stares at you with those piercing, ice-cold eyes.

But it’s impossible. Someone like him cannot love. The Dukes of Veltan were never taught such a thing. And Duke Percival Veltan, your stoic, merciless husband, is no exception.

Love is not a gilded cage, no matter how luxurious.

Love is not the blood on his hands—the lives he’s stolen just because they dared to look your way.

Love is not the way he watches you like a beast guarding its most prized possession.

So, no. This is not love.

But as his lips ghost over your forehead, his grip tightening around your wrist, you realize it doesn’t matter.

Because to him, it is.