Chapter 3 up
“Wake up.”
The voice pulled me from a sleep that had never truly come. I opened my eyes with a reflex of survival—and found Aethern standing beside the bed, his shadow swallowing the last embers of the firelight.
I sat up too quickly. The coat—his coat—was still wrapped around me.
“Stand,” he said again.
I obeyed. The stone floor bit into the soles of my feet. There was a brief pause, as if he were weighing something in my face—not my body, not my submission. Something deeper. Something more unsettling.
“What do you smell?” he asked suddenly.
I frowned. “Fire… iron… and—” I stopped.
There was another scent. Faint, unfamiliar, clinging to my skin as if it had been there for a long time. Not mine. Not entirely his either. Something in between.
“I don’t know,” I said at last.
His eyes narrowed. For the first time since I entered this palace, he looked… alert.
He stepped closer. Too close. His hand lifted—I held my breath—and his fingers stopped at my wrist. Not touching. Just close enough to measure a pulse that couldn’t be seen.
“You didn’t have nightmares,” he said, more statement than question.
“I already live in one,” I replied.
He withdrew his hand, his jaw tightening. “Did you dream last night?”
I hesitated. “No.”
It was a lie. I had dreamed of fire that did not burn—of chains that bound without pain—of a voice that spoke my name not as a command, but as recognition. I would not give him that.
“Good,” he said coldly. “Because dreams are the beginning of bonds.”
The word fell like a hammer.
“What bond?” I asked.
He turned away, walking to the stone table, pouring a dark liquid into a cup. “A bond I never asked for.”
I swallowed. “Neither did I.”
He stopped. The silence between us tightened.
“The Elders will come today,” he said after a moment. “They want to ensure their offering… has been accepted.”
“And?” I already knew the answer would not be simple.
“And I don’t like being inspected,” he replied. “Especially when something isn’t proceeding as it should.”
I felt a subtle heat at my wrist. Not pain—more like a pulse answering another pulse. I covered it with the coat, my heart beating too fast.
“If they ask,” he continued, his gaze sharp, “you feel nothing.”
“Nothing about what?”
“Exactly.”
The massive doors opened with a heavy sound. Pale morning light slipped in, followed by restrained murmurs. Two Elders entered cautiously, their eyes flicking from Aethern to me—then dropping at once.
“Your Majesty,” one of them said, bowing deeply. “We have come to ensure the well-being of the… offering.”
“What do you see?” Aethern asked evenly.
The Elder glanced at me. “The Omega lives. Unbroken.”
“Unbroken,” Aethern repeated softly. “Interesting.”
The second Elder cleared his throat, uneasy. “We also sense… a change.”
My chest tightened. I could feel it now too—the scent growing clearer, layered with something that made the room feel smaller.
“What change?” Aethern asked.
“An incomplete marking,” the Elder answered, almost whispering. “Like the shadow of a bond. Impossible without—”
“Enough,” Aethern cut in. One step forward, and the air in the room seemed to collapse. “You came to confirm, not to accuse.”
The Elders retreated half a step. “We only remind you of the old laws, Your Majesty.”
“The old laws do not bind me,” he said coldly. “Leave.”
They left faster than they had arrived.
Silence returned—more dangerous than before.
“What did they mean?” I asked, my voice barely sound.
Aethern looked at me for a long time. Too long. Then he said quietly, as if admitting something to himself, “There is a mark between us.”
I shook my head. “That’s impossible.”
“Yes,” he said. “It should be.”
He moved closer. This time, the distance didn’t feel like a threat—more like an invisible pull. His hand closed around my wrist. Brief contact. The world tilted for a second too long.
The heat answered.
We both flinched.
Aethern released me at once, his jaw rigid, his eyes dark with something that was not anger.
“This will not happen,” he said firmly. “I do not bond. I do not choose. I do not lose control.”
I stared at my wrist, where a faint impression remained—not visible, yet undeniable, like the echo of an unspoken vow.
“And me?” I asked.
He turned away. “You will stay.”
“As what?”
He stopped at the doorway. “As a mistake.”
The door closed.
I stood alone, my heart still pounding, still echoing the memory of that touch. If this was a mistake, then it was growing between us—silent, dangerous, and no longer something that could be ignored.
And for the first time since I was offered to him…
I realized something that terrified me and made me feel alive at once:
If this bond is completed—
then I will not be the only one trapped.