I roam the once-familiar corridors and grand halls of the palace. Gideon has sent me an assistant named Claire. She is mid-thirties and is supposed to help me acclimatize to the castle's inner workings. This castle, the same place where I felt both unimaginable happiness and pain, will be mine soon - or sold, or destroyed. Anything. As long as in the end, Gideon and his family will live like slaves amidst every piece of rock and stone of this castle.

As I pass through the different offices and rooms, Gideon's closest kin watch me as if I am some kind of apparition. Their glances are a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Claire then leads me into a room filled with luxurious furniture and paintings adorning the walls. "This is where the King and his Council members hold important meetings and negotiations," she explains, gesturing towards a large mahogany table in the center of the room.

I nod, taking it all in. "These paintings weren't here before," I say, pointing at one depicting a stern-faced man in royal garb.

"King Gideon commissioned a couple of painters the past few years. You will notice new artworks in the rooms that we'll be in."

We then move on to another area of the castle - the concubines' section. It's filled with lavish bedrooms, each one occupied by a young woman dressed in luxurious clothing.

"These are Gideon's concubines rooms," Claire explains as we walk through.

My jaw tightens at the sight of them, maintaining an expression that seems as if I am jealous of the concubines. "How many does he have?"

Claire clears her throat nervously before answering. "Five at the moment," she says. "But only three remains because of your return."

"Did they..." I start, trying to gauge Claire's reaction. "... agree to it?"

"They got compensation for it, but I don't know the exact situation," she answers cautiously.

As we continue our tour of the castle, my mind is working overtime, strategizing and planning my next moves.

Finally, we make our way to the prepared nursery for the future children of Gideon and his concubines. The room is filled with toys and pastel-colored furniture, ready for a little prince or princess to inhabit it.

"Everything looks lovely," I praise.

"Queen Marinella was the one who designed this," Claire informs me proudly. "She has always been very involved in the welfare of her son's concubines and their children."

I raise an eyebrow at this information, and seeing my reaction, she adds, "I hope I didn't offend you with that information?"

"It's fine. I am well-aware that kings need to procreate." I take a deep breath and add, "What about King Gideon? How did he treat his concubines these past few years?"

Claire hesitates before answering. "He is good to them..." she answers. "He treats them well and provides for their needs."

I scoff at this response, knowing that Gideon is far from being "good" in terms of treating his women.

And so, trying to read between the lines, I ask, "So, he never really spends time with them?"

Claire shifts uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. "Well...you know how he is. He's always busy with his duties as king."

"Hmmm..." I mutter.

"He never... really spends that much time with them," she adds. "The past year seems to be the most difficult for him."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Claire covering up for her king's neglectful behavior is laughable. It's the same thing I've done before, and see where it leads me.

"I see," I say calmly, though inside I am seething with anger.

We continued our tour of the offices including introductions, before making our way back to my chambers. By then, it was close to evening.

"Is there anything else you need, Mage Serra?" Claire asks politely. "Luna? Ahm, Your Highness Serra?" she asks, not knowing how to address me.

I shake my head, dismissing her for now and ignoring her confusion on how to address me. "That will be all for today, thank you."

She bows and leaves me alone. Once she was gone, I let out a frustrated sigh and pace around the room. I need another few days to understand all the changes and to re-insert myself into the political play of the castle.

So, I sit down at the desk and start writing down a list of magical devices I have created for Dunkerson before. I also need to know what happened to them. Those items might be due for some much needed maintenance... and a little tinkering. It will be a way to solidify my position as Luna and Queen and gain influence in the entire Dunkerson. Not to mention how far the military has fallen since I left.

Second on the list is getting to know the court members and familiarizing myself with their alliances and agendas.

Third, I need to start earning the trust and loyalty of the people in this kingdom. They are just as important as the courtiers and hold great influence over public opinion. They may see me as only a human mage, and thus, unfit to become the Ruler of a Lycan Kingdom, but that can change too.

Lastly, I need to figure out a way to gain control over Gideon himself, and then Queen Marinella will follow right after. He might seem in love with me now, but I know better than to think it will last. And when his affection ends, I must be ready.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. It's Gideon, looking as ruggedly handsome as ever with his unruly hair and piercing eyes. As much as I loathe admitting it, seeing him still stirs something inside me.

"Serra..." he greets.

"Gideon," I greet back with a polite nod.

"I wanted to check if everything was... alright?"

"Everything is fine," I reply with a smile. "I'm just trying to get used to things here."

"It might be disconcerting, but don't push yourself too hard," he says, looking around the room like a lost puppy. He looks at me with those concerned eyes, as if he really thinks I'm here to mend old wounds. The thought almost makes me laugh.

"I will adjust," I assure him. "It's not the first time that I am new here."

"I remember," he reminisces. "You were overwhelmed at first, but got acclimatized to the grandeur soon."

And I remember too. I also remember when I told him that it's easier to get familiar because he was here, and his presence makes everything all the more easier.

Oh, my gullible, stupid, love-blind, past self.

And I know that I need to say the same words to him now, to make him feel a connection, and yet, I keep mum.

Silence stretches out between us before he finally speaks again. "Actually, Serra..." he starts.

I lean my head to the side, waiting.

"I actually got something for you..."

I watch as he pulls out a delicate flower from his coat. It's a beautiful white rose with a tinge of blue at the edges, reminding me of the sky just before it turns dark.

"For me?" I ask, my voice betraying my surprise.

"Yes," he nods, holding out the flower for me to take. "I know you like flowers."

I hesitantly reach out and take the flower from him. He is wrong, though. I have a platonic love for flowers. However, because he gave me flowers before, I start to love them. Later on, I learned that Marinella had been forcing him to give me flowers.

"It's beautiful," I say, hiding how I really feel about it. "I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything," he replies, stepping closer to me. "Just keep it in your room always."

I look up at him, and our eyes meet. He seems lost and is trying to find himself in my eyes. Unfortunately, it's not home that he will ever find in me, but hell.

"Serra..." he starts, but is interrupted by a knock on the door.

We both turn towards it as Queen Marinella enters the room with a bright smile on her face.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asks playfully, raising an eyebrow at us.

Gideon quickly steps away from me and clears his throat. "No, mother. I am just checking up on Serra. In case there's anything she needed."

"That's good to hear," she says as she walks over to us. "I hope everything is to your liking?"

"It's perfect," I reply.

"I'm glad." She then turns to Gideon. "Now, invite her for dinner, will you? I want to talk more with the two of you."

Gideon looks at me. I nod and give him a reassuring smile. "It sounds lovely," I say.

"Great!" Queen Marinella claps her hands together. "Gideon, take Serra to the dining hall and I'll join you both shortly."

-- Gideon Dunkerson's POV --

The great dining hall of Dunkerson castle was ablaze with the warmth of firelight. I sit at the head of the oaken table, while both Queen Marinella, my mother, and Serra sit on both my side. This time, it is a private dinner for the three of us.

My mother is telling tales about the valor of knights and cunning dragons. She looks bright as she continues to speak, but I know my mother. When Serra returned, she had already raised her concerns to me. She fears that Serra might have another agenda.

I pushed it aside. Serra is nothing like that. She's the type to get tired of politics. Petty schemes are not really her forte. Serra is bright, but the type of straightforward smart who works diligently and focuses on the things they excel at. For her, it's her proficient skills in magic. Some call it genius-level though.

"Gideon, isn't that right?" My mother's voice pulls me back into the conversation.

"Hmmm?" I answer my mother.

I have been gazing for far too long at Serra, but I still don't shift my attention from her. Then I watch a blush on her cheeks as she looks down at her glass of wine. Yes, definitely not the type to think of the complications that my mother is warning me of. Besides, she knew about my cheating but still sacrificed herself to save me. Now, she's back again, and I promise that I won't give her any more reasons to hurt compared to what I've done a lot in the past.

"Gideon?" my mother asks again.

I nod at my mother, not really knowing what question I'm affirming. "Yes, indeed."

Her laughter fills the room, and I can see how the blush in Serra's cheeks became even redder. To hide it, she takes a sip of her wine, as if it's the most delicious thing ever. I glance at her lips. Oh! I want to kiss her again, to taste her skin, and hear her moans. It's been a while, I miss her so.

"I am asking when you are going to become intimate again. You need heirs from Serra, so tonight will be a great time."

"Oh," I say, so that explains the blush on her face.

Serra fidgets with her glass, her fingers tapping lightly against the crystal. So, I can't help but reach out and hold her hand, and she just fits perfectly into mine as if her hands are made to be held by only me.

Serra turns to look at me, her eyes are filled with uncertainty. "I..." she begins, but stops, biting at her lower lip. And the gesture is making me think of the different ways I can nibble on her lips.

"No pressure, Serra," I say, surprising myself with how strained my own voice sounds. "We don't have to rush into anything."

"I mean it's okay, but... I may not be up to par..."

Oh, my sweet, classic Serra. Always second-guessing herself other than magic. I reach to her cheeks and caress it. She blinks and gazes into my eyes. This is love. It's still there. So, I will do everything to treat her right this time.

"I assure you, Serra," I tell her, my voice getting deeper the more I feel my desire for her. "You've always been more than enough."

She swallows, her eyes shimmering in the light as they meet mine. My heart stutters at the sight. I will erase the doubts from her mind, and with time and assurance, she'd find the confidence and security in my love.

"Okay," she whispers.

My heart swells with a warmth I hadn't felt in a long time. Right now and here, I want to take her, to make her scream in her passions again. To give her all that I can. But all I did was to bring her hand to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles. I watch the emotions play over her face, the nervousness slowly giving way to something more tender, more trusting.

"You two lovebirds, just leave now, and do whatever you want in the comforts of your room," Queen Marinella suggests, waving her hand.

And so, we rise from our seats. Serra, who is still holding my hand, gives me a shy smile. We bid our goodbyes and leave the dining hall, the sound of our footsteps fading into the quiet of the castle corridors.

************************

I can feel the warmth of Serra's hand as we make our way back to my quarters after dinner.

"That was quite a feast," she comments, breaking the silence between us.

"Yes, my mother always makes sure that we have a grand meal whenever there are guests." I reply as I glance at her.

We reach my room, and I open the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. She steps inside, looking around curiously at the lavish decor. I close the door behind me and walk over to stand beside her.

"Do you really want to do this with me tonight?" I ask. "Be intimate?"

She looks up at me. "It's my duty."

"I want it to be more than just a duty, though."

She looks up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers and I feel like I am drowning in them again. Her gaze always makes me second-guess things that I thought I was very sure of.

"Gideon?"

"Hmmm?" I ask.

My heart beats faster as she takes another step towards me until there is barely any space left between us. Without thinking, I reach out and take her hand in mine.

"Can I hold your hand?" I ask hesitantly, afraid of pushing her too far and making sure that she really wants me to hold her hand.

Serra doesn't say anything, but she doesn't let go of my hand either. Instead, she gently intertwines our fingers together and leans her head against my chest.

We stand there for what feels like eternity, just holding each other's hands and breathing each other's scent. It feels like all the troubles in the world have vanished, leaving only us.

"Your room is beautiful, Gideon," she murmurs into my shoulder. Her voice is soft as a gentle song, and it makes my heart skip another beat. "It's just as grand as everything else here."

With temporary courage, I ask, "Do you want to share this room with me?"

She chuckles, pulls a bit from me, and looks around. "If you were to invite me here, this place needs a bit more bookshelves," she suggests.

"Hmmm," I say, pulling her body back to me. She's soft, and she smells very nice. "I can prepare another room for all your towering bookshelves and I will fill them with ancient tomes."

"I hope it's far from this room?" she asks. "I still do dangerous experiments with magic."

"If it is far from this place, then let's add an ornate bed with velvet drapes in that room," I suggest.

But instead of giggling, she stiffens in my hold. I've gone too far, so I squeeze her body to mine and bury my face in her hair. But then, I was too late to remember that I... am already very ready to take her to bed.

"Sorry," I whisper, embarrassed at my body's reaction to her.

She pulls a little and looks down, then she blushes again, knowing exactly what I want to do now, with her.

"Can I prepare? I mean, I need a bath first."

I feel a pinch in my heart. I remember that before, we always took a bath before becoming intimate. I'm the one who puts that rule, making her feel as if she is always dirty.

"There's no need," I say, reaching for her hand and kissing each of her fingers.

"I also need to explore your room first. I mean, this is an enormous room," she remarks as my lips make their way to all her fingers.

I glance at her face. There it is. She's as red as a beet. She is feeling this; I am sure. And so, with a playful smile, I say, "If you want to explore, we can do that."

There is a pause and then, she stammers, "Y-you mean, explore the room, right?"

I shake my head and wind my arms around her waist. When I pull her back to me, she squeals in surprise, and it sounds so good in my ears.

"No, Serra," I murmur, reaching up to lightly trace her face with my fingers. Her reaction to my touch made my pulse quicken in response. "I meant the exploration of us."

She blinks at my words, the blush on her cheeks deepening. The interplay of fear and desire in her gaze fans the embers of my growing desire to own her again.

"Serra?" I ask, trying to get her consent.

She takes an uneasy breath, and then her eyes flutter shut as she leans into my touch.

-- Back To Serra’s POV --

With Marinella around, I’m careful about using my magic to fake the blush on my cheeks. I also make sure that I don’t use too much glamour or else, she will notice the constant use of my magic even when I am unconscious.

I tiptoe towards Gideon while my eyes are still closed. Earlier, I saw the delight in the way he looks at me, as if he is living in his past. And in his imagined past, he is not an asshole-cheating-jerk-of-a-husband.

Gideon presses forward, and I place my palm against his chest. His body is still rock-hard, nice to look at, but never good at cuddling. It’s all fine, though. For me, cuddles are never his utility. Besides, even before, he had never been the one to cuddle. After our copulation, he will never snuggle next to me. He would even evade my touch and so I learned not to pester him with it.

“Gideon...” I whisper.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

I nod faintly. “Yes,” I respond. “Please...”

I feel him shudder under my palm. He leans into me and presses his lips to mine. And I... I forget to breathe for a while. His lips are soft and warm. It is a familiar sensation that almost makes me lose myself.

But then, reality crashes down on me and I remember all the lies and betrayals that shattered our marriage. All the anger rushes to my head. I want to push him away. I want to violently lash at him, to give him back all the hurt I felt because of loving him. And yet, the rationality still wins, so I stiffen instead.

Sensing it, Gideon runs his tongue on my lips, tasting me as his hands rise to cup my face. He tries to deepen the kiss, parting my lips so we can be more intimate, but I stay rigid. I thought about this part of my revenge before. I told myself that I will enjoy myself, that I will take and take from him, but it seems like I will need more time to get used to this, or else I will lose sight of my goal.

Suddenly, he breaks the kiss. “Serra,” he begs, as if breathing into me. “Open your mouth. Let me kiss you deeper.”

I open my eyes and peer through my lashes, and I still say, “Okay.”

I reach for the back of his head and lean closer. I open my mouth and let him in. His tongue, warm and insistent, plunges into the recesses of my mouth, awakening a dormant desire. He is still a great kisser, that when I thought I lost desire for another person, here it is again. The desire is still present, pooling in my belly as I remember all the nights we shared. I guess those nights are the only good times I shared with him.

His hands move to my hair, fingers threading through its strands, as he pulls me closer to his body, squeezing me into him as if he wants to merge his body to mine, I pull back and notice that his eyes are still focused on my lips.

“Gideon, a little gentler...”

The instant I am done speaking, he pulls me into him again, like a man parched. His breaths merge with mine as he continues to explore the terrain of my mouth, licking and probing, sending jolts of pleasure radiating from my lips down to my toes.

Strangely though, as intense as the sensation may be, it does not drown the bitterness. This is Gideon. The man who lied and betrayed our vows. The man who broke my heart into a million pieces. I can’t deny that I’m torn. My injured heart screams for me to push him away, my brain tells me to control our lovemaking so I will have the upper-hand, and my body craves more of his touch.

It’s a perilous dance that I am engaging in, and it’s taking my all to keep up. The pain of our past and the sweet desire of the present are clashing, creating a noisy mix of raw emotions that’s too loud to ignore.

“Oh god, Serra...”

I pull back and I realize what I have done. I have jumped into him, my legs around his hips, his hands under my butt as he carries my weight.

I exhale softly, and my fingers trace the outline of his jaw. “You don’t like this?” I ask, and I realize that my voice is coming in short gasps.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply holds me close, as if fearing that I’d escape if his grip slackens even the slightest. His lips brush against mine once more, the heat from his breath threatening to drive me crazy — with lust, nothing more.

“Don’t move...” he whispers, his voice trembling the same as mine, and I realize that he is aching for my touch as much as I lust after him. “Or I might lose it.”

His eyes bore into mine, full of raw passion and desire. But there’s also sorrow lurking in the depths of those dark pools. Is it guilt over his past actions? Regret over the pain he has caused me? Or is it simply the fear of losing his useful mage again?

“Are you okay?” I ask, my arms tightening around his neck.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed together. The heat from his skin seeps through my clothes, igniting a fire within me that I thought was long extinguished.

“Please, Serra,” he implores, his voice low and husky. “Can I make love to you again?”

“Yes,” I whisper before capturing his lips once again.

While I am in his arms, he strides towards his bed with ease, never breaking the intense kiss between us. I fall back onto the soft, plush mattress as I settle into the bed, watching him as he takes his clothes off.

Gideon is still a masterpiece, a Lycan king outside. Every inch of his muscular torso exudes raw strength. His skin, kissed by the sun, is sweat-sheened. He also has a perfect face, and he only looked better during the time we were separated. He is a man so beautiful that the naive me never even thought that he was just a beautiful mask. And this perfect facade is the reason an ordinary mage like me aspired to become his wife, not knowing that I will be trapped in pain instead.

His unrestrained gaze meets mine and something primal flashes within them. He crawls onto the bed, hovering above me, his hot breath fanning my face as he lowers himself down onto me. His lips devour mine in a kiss that sears through my veins like liquid fire, making me gasp out at the intensity.

“Serra,” he murmurs against my skin, his fingers tracing the contour of my face, making me blush furiously.

I reach out, running my fingers through his dark hair, pulling him down for another of his searing kisses. His hands roam over my body, teasingly slow, unleashing a tsunami of sensations that leaves me moaning into his mouth.

“This time is ours,” he whispers.