Mated To The Barbarian King Who Is My Ex-husband's Father.

The night had been short for the rest of the tribe, but for her, it felt agonizingly endless. Samantha hadn’t been able to close her eyes for a single second.

She spent the entire night tossing and turning in bed, her mind racing as she tried to devise an escape route from her current dilemma.

​Her scheme was so close to succeeding. If she played her remaining cards correctly, her rival would be utterly ruined within a matter of hours.

​There was a real chance Kane would finally open his heart to her and perhaps even offer his hand in marriage...after all, no other high-ranking woman in the territory would dare fill the vacant seat of his queen.

​However, to pull off the final blow, she had to ensure the guards discovered the stolen necklace right where she had buried it.

​The guards would never stumble upon its hiding spot on their own unless she provided precise instructions to dig up the dirt floor at in Astrid’s store.

​Samantha bit her lower lip nervously, turning onto her side to face the canvas wall. The only reason she had buried the necklace so deeply in the first place was to prevent Astrid or anyone else from discovering it prematurely and handing it back to the King.

​Now, in hindsight, that decision felt like a massive error.

​She let out a frustrated sigh, flipping onto her back once more as a stroke of brilliance hit her.

​If she informed the guards that the search order came directly from her mother, they would obey without hesitation and no one would ever suspect her of pulling the strings.

​A dark chuckle escaped her lips as she shook her head, catching the faint flicker of shifting shadows passing against the exterior of her tent.

​Dawn had officially broken, and the camp was coming alive as the tribe began their morning routines.

​Samantha sat up and stretched her arms, preparing to put her plan into motion. She whispered a quick prayer to the Moon Goddess, pleading for fortune to favor her endeavor today.

​But as her feet touched the cold ground, a familiar, thunderous voice roared her name from just outside the tent entrance, making her heart violently leap into her throat.

​At first, she had mistaken the voice for Kane’s, but the subtle, boyish undertone quickly gave it away as her brother’s.

​Ragnar carried a voice strikingly similar to the King’s, especially with the raw, terrifying harshness that surfaced whenever either of them was enraged.

​Still, Samantha wondered what his problem could possibly be at this hour. Was he simply looking for another excuse to pick a fight with her?

​"Pffft. Ragnar... do not piss me off this morning," Samantha muttered, rolling her eyes as she crossed the tent toward the entrance.

​Before her fingers could even touch the fabric flap, Ragnar barged inside. Everything happened in a violent blur—the next thing she knew, a crackling slap hit across her cheek, the force of the blow throwing her off balance and nearly sending her crashing to the dirt floor.

​A icy shiver raced down her spine as she cupped her burning face, staring down in absolute shock.

The sheer disbelief of the hit paralyzed her from retaliating immediately. Ragnar wasn’t this kind of man. No matter how viciously they bickered or drove each other to the brink, he had never once laid a hand on her.

​"Ragnar..." She snapped her head up, her temper flaring as she raised her hand, ready to return the slap with interest—only to freeze.

​His eyes had bled into a menacing, glowing gold, locking onto her with an overwhelming expression of pure disgust and hatred.

​Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she refused to let him see her tremble.

​"Do not dare speak my name with that filthy mouth of yours," her brother spat, his stance rigid, practically daring her to test him further.

​"I am your elder sister, and I have every right to slap you back, you fool!" she snarled, her voice trembling with rage and lingering shock. "How dare you storm into my tent at dawn to start trouble?"

​"You deserved it... though I damn well wish it wasn’t true," Ragnar replied, spitting onto the floor between them. He dragged a trembling hand through his dark hair, desperately trying to rein in his explosive fury. "You utterly disgust me."

Samantha desperately wanted to strike him back or shove him out of her tent, but the grim realization settled over her that something far worse had transpired.

​It was obvious...Ragnar had uncovered her secrets. The only terrifying question was: which one?

​Her hands balled into tight, trembling fists as the hushed murmurs of gathering crowd members drifted through the canvas walls.

People were beginning to cluster outside, drawn by the commotion of her furious brother storming into her quarters.

​"Does Arianna truly deserve all of this venom over a man?" Ragnar demanded, fighting with everything in him to keep his temper from boiling over. A raging fire burned in his chest, urging him to do far more than just slap her. "Is this how a woman ought to treat another? I thought you were supposed to be her protector...her sister’s keeper!"

​"Arianna is not my sister, and you had better get that through your head!" Samantha snapped defensively, stepping up to match his stance. "I have only one sibling in this world, and that is you, Ragnar! A brother who just betrayed his own blood for a complete stranger... a brother who laid his hands on me for the sake of another woman!"

​Ragnar rolled his eyes, utterly immune to her pathetic attempt at playing the victim. He glared at her, his expression a bitter storm of disgust and pity.

She hadn’t even begun to grasp the magnitude of her foolishness—once Kane uncovered the full truth, he would end her life without a second thought.

​"What on earth is happening here?" Aunt Freya demanded, bursting into the tent and throwing herself between her two children. Her eyes darted anxiously back and forth between them.

​The moment her mother appeared, Samantha instantly burst into dramatic tears, clutching her cheek as if in unbearable agony. "Ask your precious son, Mother! He barged into my home and struck me all for the sake of some woman.!"

​"What woman?" Aunt Freya asked, her brows furrowing into a deep crease. She had no idea what they were arguing about, let alone any reason to believe her son would actually raise a hand against his own sister.

​"Stop playing the victim, Samantha," Ragnar sighed, his anger flaring up all over again. "I despise it when you pull this manipulative act. You have always been like this, so I shouldn’t even be surprised."

​"Really?" Samantha gaped at him, stunned that he was dragging up their past just to justify his outrageous behavior. "Mother, he barged in here and slapped me across the face all because of Arianna!"

​"W-what?" Her mother whipped around to stare at Ragnar’s face. She could see the storm raging in his eyes—a terrifying side of him that rarely surfaced, and one she genuinely feared to witness. "What on earth came over you, Ragnar? I know my son was not raised to behave like this."

​"Mother, do not take his side!" Samantha snapped, gritting her teeth in sheer frustration. "Your precious son must have fallen in love with the Queen...why else would he defend a woman he barely knows?"

​Aunt Freya’s heart leaped into her throat. She rounded on her daughter, her hand twitching as if she were about to strike Samantha herself for such recklessness. "Have you completely lost your mind?! What if the King hears such treasonous words? How do you expect to explain yourself if this reaches his ears?"

​"It is the truth! Can’t you see the way he is acting?"

​"Shut your mouth..." her mother began, only to be cut off.

​"Let her, Mother. Go on, run to the King and report me," Ragnar said, a dark, bitter smile touching his lips as he nodded. "And while you’re at it, be sure to tell him that you were the one who stole Mother’s jewelry and framed his Queen for it."

​"What on earth are you saying, Ragnar?" Aunt Freya’s brow pinched into a sharp, horrified line as she stared at him. She desperately wanted to dismiss his claim, but when she turned to her daughter, Samantha’s ghost-white, frozen face spoke volumes. Terror gripped Freya’s heart as she demanded, "Tell me he isn’t telling the truth, Samantha!"

​Samantha stumbled backward, her heels catching against the wooden trunk behind her as she stared in speechlessness.

She had committed so many dangerous schemes in secret, but she had never dreamed that this would be the sin her brother uncovered.

Samantha’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird as her mother glared at her, looking as though she were about to tear her limb from limb right then and there.

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