ZURI

Tyr’s smirk widened as his piercing eyes bore into me. “Here’s my condition, Zuri,” he said, his voice a cold, almost seductive rumble that echoed in the vast hall. I hated his smirk. He was too sagacious to admit that this deal would benefit him. “I won’t touch you until you beg for it.”

I stiffened. His words sliced through the air like a blade. My lips parted and I instantly prepared a sharp retort. The bastard! His calm, smug expression made my blood boil.

“Beg?” I scoffed, straightening my back, letting him see that I was anything but intimidated. “The last thing I’d ever do is beg you for anything.” My voice rang with the defiance that I wanted to show.

His smirk deepened and a curl defined his lips as though he found my resistance amusing. He didn’t reply. Instead, he stepped back toward his throne with a lazy, calculated grace that screamed control.

I clenched my fists and forced my breathing to steady as I reached for my gown. I kept my eyes on him as I tied it around myself. I would not show him an ounce of weakness.

This was what he wanted. That was his tool. Crush the soul, and the body will be yours. That was Tyr's strategy. But he would not crush me. I won't allow that.

I knew of the countless kingdoms he'd defeated, and how he had successfully infused fear into the people. He couldn't defeat my kingdom, and he wouldn't defeat me.

I'd gotten the grace of having my proposal accepted, but there was one more thing I needed to ensure.

Once clothed, I squared my shoulders and spoke again in a firm tone. “I want Denny given comfortable quarters with the other warriors.”

Tyr lowered himself onto his throne, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He shrugged, as though my demand was a trivial matter. “Done.”

He clapped twice, and the large doors creaked behind me. A maid walked in and bowed with her face to the ground.

“Take her upstairs,” he ordered. “See to it she’s comfortable.”

My pride didn’t allow me to acknowledge his casual dismissal, but I needed his help, and for now, that meant playing the game. I turned and followed the maid.

I didn’t even glance back at him.

The maid led me through a winding corridor that opened into a grand staircase. The further we walked, the more extravagant the castle became. Intricate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting fierce battles and royal ceremonies. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, casting a warm glow over polished stone floors.

When we reached the door to what I understood would be my quarters, the maid opened it with a soft creak, revealing a room that took my breath away.

The chamber was enormous, bathed in golden light from the glass sconces. A massive four-poster bed, draped in crimson and gold silks, stood at the center of the room. The bedding looked softer than anything I’d ever known, adorned with embroidered patterns of wolves and stars.

Oh, Tyr had taste.

A fireplace crackled in one corner. The flames cast flickering shadows that danced across the walls. To the left, a carved wooden desk was surrounded by shelves lined with books, their leather spines gleaming; and to the right, a sitting area with plush chairs and a low table invited relaxation.

But it was the view that truly captivated me. The windows opened onto a balcony overlooking the vast expanse of Bjord’s territory. Rolling hills stretched into the horizon, their emerald beauty tinged with the amber of the moon's glow.

The maid lingered near the door, waiting for instructions. I turned to her with a small, polite smile. “Thank you. You can leave now.”

She dipped her head in a quick bow and left without a word.

Alone at last, I walked to the balcony and rested my hands on the cool stone railing. The view was magnificent, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Tyr’s words echoed in my mind. The arrogance of that man…

He looked better up close. I couldn't deny that. A lot of people thought Tyr was a scarred 6'4 beast that fed on the blood of people, but I knew better.

I'd seen him for the first time that year when he brought an attack to Magnika. He was violently repelled. I wasn't allowed to fight since I wasn't of age, so I joined the women in helping the kids to safety while fending off smaller attacks on the way.

Tyr's eyes were on me the entire time as he advanced. It didn't come as a surprise that he could still recognize me.

I clenched the railing until my knuckles turned white. “I won’t beg,” I whispered to myself, as though saying it aloud would solidify my resolve. I didn’t come here to cower or submit. I came to win.

I turned back into the room, pacing, as my mind churned. Tyr thought he could toy with me, but I wouldn’t be so easily broken. I would stand firm, no matter how long it took. That was my job as queen and protector of Magnika.

The faint sound of shouting reached my ears. I paused and strained to listen. The noise grew louder, and my heart sank as I recognized the voice.

Denny.

I cursed under my breath and bolted for the door. I hurried down the stairs, tracing the sound of the commotion. My pulse quickened as I burst through the massive front doors and came upon a group of guards clustered in the courtyard below.

Denny stood at the center of the chaos, his fists raised in defiance as two guards attempted to restrain him.

His shirt was torn, his face flushed with anger. “Get your filthy hands off me!” he growled.

I gritted my teeth as I summoned two balls of flames in both hands, whooshing them around my palms to draw their attention.

I was scared and drained, but if I wanted the respect of these men, they had to understand that they were not standing before a docile queen.

Everyone turned to me. Their voices drowned to a murmur. “What’s going on here?!” I demanded in a loud voice.