The Duke's Reluctant Bride

The remnants of the lightning's wrath still hummed faintly. The air hung heavy with a pungent, metallic scent. Captain Valerie's expression was unreadable—cold and sharp, like the storm she wielded. Her turquoise eyes swept over the trembling man before her, who clutched a bleeding ankle and dared not to meet her gaze.

"How reckless," she said. Her voice was calm, but it carried an edge that cut deeper than steel. "Wandering the forest at night? Did you think the abyss would grant you mercy just because you were ignorant?"

The man stammered, his voice choked with fear. "I... I didn't know... I thought they were just wolves..."

"Wolves wouldn't have been so kind to you either," Valerie replied, deadpan. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "At least they'd have finished the job quickly. You're fortunate I was in a generous mood tonight."

His face blanched.

She turned away, lightning still flickering around her, and her deep blue cloak snapped in the wind. "Judging by your wound, you can still run—or at least hobble with flair. Go get it treated. And if I catch you near these woods after dusk again, I'll let the abyss have you."

The man didn't wait to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet and limped into the mist without a backward glance.

A soft rustle behind her drew her attention. One of her subordinates—a knight clad in silver armor and a matching blue cloak—stepped forward and saluted.

"Captain, the perimeter has been secured."

Valerie gave a short nod, eyes lifting to the starlit sky above the dark forest of Wintermere. "Well done."

She turned to him, her tone sharpening. "Tell the others: we're not returning to the front just yet. Wintermere may have more lurking in its woods than wild beasts."

The knight hesitated, shifting slightly. "But, Captain—"

"Sir Gareth will handle the rest," Valerie cut in, already turning her attention back to the forest. "He's overdue for a lesson in dealing with monsters anyway."

The knight blinked. "...May I ask why you're staying?"

Her gaze lingered on the treetops, where shadows gathered far too easily.

"Because I don't believe the enemy's finished. That attack on His Grace's estate. If they try again, I'll be here." Her fingers curled slightly, a faint crackle of power pulsing in the air. "Next time, I'll make sure they don't make it past the walls."

She looked at him fully now, wind tugging at her cloak, eyes burning like turquoise lightning.

"Once is a breach," she said. "Twice is a threat."

The knight sobered, nodding silently.

"You intend to protect the estate personally," he said, more a statement than a question.

Valerie gave a curt nod. "Exactly. We can't afford another lapse. The knights let their guard down, and I won't tolerate that."

She paused, her tone tightening.

"I've heard Quentin and the duchess held the line themselves—with no knights to back them. If it weren't for the treants that young lady summoned, they would've been among the casualties."

The knight's shoulders stiffened, guilt shadowing his features.

Valerie's expression hardened—but her voice, though clipped, held fierce resolve.

"Wintermere needs a storm to meet the shadows head-on," she said, her magic humming faintly around her like thunder waiting to break. "And I intend to be that storm."