Chapter 13
Seraphina's heart pounded relentlessly as she watched him walk out of the room, leaving behind a storm of emotions she couldn't quite control. What had just happened? What had he done to her?
Her body still tingled from his touch, her lips burned from his kisses, and worst of all—there was a heat between her legs that she didn't understand. It was a strange, uncomfortable warmth, damp and throbbing, making her thighs clench involuntarily. Was this desire? The realization sent a jolt of panic through her. How could a simple kiss—no, that was no simple kiss—how could he make her feel this way?
"Your Highness…" Irene's voice cut through her chaotic thoughts. "It seems you and His Majesty are getting along well," she mused, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Seraphina's cheeks burned. "Just… just get done with it," she muttered, averting her gaze as Irene chuckled softly before setting to work.
Her emotions were in disarray. How had she let him unravel her so easily? A single kiss shouldn't have left her breathless, but his lips—his warmth—had consumed her. It took several long minutes for Irene to redo her hair and makeup, and soon enough, the time had come.
The moment she stepped into the grand hall, whispers erupted around her. This was the first time she was appearing before the court, the first time these creatures had laid eyes on their future queen. She wondered what they saw—a witch? A prisoner? Or something far worse?
A deep breath filled her lungs as she straightened her back. She would not cower. She was a princess of the witches, an assassin trained to kill the man she was about to marry. She refused to let these bloodsuckers intimidate her.
As she walked down the aisle, she forced herself to lift her gaze. But the moment her eyes landed on him, she faltered.
He was breathtaking.
Rhydian stood at the altar, his once long And untamed hair now trimmed and brushed back, revealing his sculpted jawline and striking features. Those piercing red-tinted eyes held an intensity that made her stomach tighten, and his lips—those sinful lips that had just claimed hers not long ago—were curled into a smile that was nothing like his usual taunting smirk. This one was softer, almost… genuine.
Seraphina's breath hitched. Focus, Sera. She forced herself to look away before she made a complete fool of herself.
When she finally reached him, Irene placed her hand in his, and her fingers trembled slightly. She scolded herself for it, but Rhydian's warm grasp steadied her.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice a deep, coaxing whisper. "You don't have to be nervous."
Nervous? Nervous?! Of course she was nervous! But it wasn't for the reasons he might think. It was because of him, because of what he did to her, because of the way her body betrayed her whenever he was close.
She swallowed hard as they climbed onto the podium. Throughout the entire ceremony, their eyes kept finding each other. Every time she caught him looking, he would smirk and look away. And every time he caught her staring, her heart would stutter, and she would quickly avert her gaze.
Then the moment she dreaded arrived.
"You may kiss the bride."
Seraphina's breath lodged in her throat. What?! In front of all these people? This was… she couldn't—
But before she could react, Rhydian moved.
His hands cupped her cheeks, tilting her face up to his. Her breath stilled as she met his gaze, burning with something dark and unreadable.
"Don't worry, Purple," he whispered, his tone teasing yet strangely tender. "I won't bite. You can relax."
But how could she relax when he was this close?
His lips brushed against hers—slow, deliberate, not the desperate, devouring kiss from earlier. This one was different. This one was dangerous.
Her lashes fluttered shut as warmth spread through her, sinking deep into her bones. Without thinking, she parted her lips, welcoming him in. His tongue slid into her mouth, exploring, claiming, and all thoughts of resistance crumbled.
A soft moan escaped her throat as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him. Her body molded into his, and she kissed him back, mirroring his hunger. His tongue tangled with hers, teasing, tasting, devouring, until her knees felt weak beneath her.
Then the sound of applause shattered the spell.
Seraphina gasped, pulling away, her breath unsteady.
"As of today, the princess of the witch clan has been officially crowned queen."
The crowd erupted in cheers, though she could tell some were forced. Time would reveal whether they accepted her or simply tolerated her presence.
But none of that mattered right now.
Her lips still tingled, swollen from his kisses. She was breathless, dazed, and worst of all—craving more.
What the hell was wrong with her?
She was here to kill him, not fall under his spell. Yet with every touch, every glance, every heated kiss, he was tearing down her defenses.
She had to snap out of it.
"Shall we?" Rhydian's voice drew her back, his hand extended toward her, waiting for her to take it.
Her fingers twitched. This was it. The wedding was over. She was now his wife.
So what now?