The Obsessive Male Lead Is Actually Scary

It had only been a day since I collapsed into bed, sore from Grandmama’s brutal defense drills and dagger lessons. One night of half-sleep, and already it felt like a fragile bubble of peace I couldn’t afford.

I woke to the smell of fresh bread and woodsmoke, the kind of scent that almost made me forget I was a fugitive. Pale morning light filtered through the dusty curtains. The blanket around me had twisted in the night from tossing and turning—I remembered dreaming of Marius’s hand closing around my wrist like a manacle.

My muscles still ached from yesterday’s training.

I sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

The last thing I remembered was collapsing after hours of drills, my pride bruised and my body worse for wear.

Alessio had returned not long before I woke, boots damp and eyes sharp from an early scout. From the kitchen, I heard his voice low and tense with Grandmama’s.

"...Mellerfen’s the only option..."

"You’ll need to move soon. His men are getting closer."

My stomach growled, loud and undignified. I pressed a hand to it, wincing. The survival instinct, apparently, didn’t care about fear.

When I stepped into the main room, Alessio was setting the table while Grandmama stirred a pot over the hearth.

"Sounds like a beast in there," Alessio teased as he caught sight of me.