Chapter 92: Flooded with memories

You sit on the edge of your bed, your gaze distant, staring at the stone wall as though it might offer some comfort or answer. The weight of your thoughts presses down on you—thoughts of Elle, of her safety, of her fate. You hope she’s somewhere far from this madness, that she’s found a way to escape this life that’s been thrust upon her, a life you know all too well. You wish she could be free, free from the chains of royalty, from the expectations, from the constant battles for power.

But deep down, you know the truth—she can’t escape it. Not without risking everything. Not without drawing the attention of forces that would crush her.

And yet, you cling to that hope, that small spark of possibility that she might find a way out. You want so badly for her to live a life outside of this world of lies, manipulation, and bloodshed. But that wish, that dream, feels selfish. You don’t know if you’d survive it if something happened to her. The thought gnaws at your insides, making it harder to breathe.

Your eyes flicker to him—Davide. The man who was once your tormentor, your captor, and your fated mate, now locked beside you in this strange, twisted bond that neither of you asked for. You glance at him as he sits across the room, the silence between you thick, oppressive. His presence is like a weight on your chest, suffocating you, and yet, there's something else—something that makes your heart ache in ways you can't quite explain.

The memories flood you before you can stop them.

You remember the first time he locked you away, his cruel smile as he threatened your freedom, the sting of his grip as he dragged you through halls you never wanted to see again. You can feel the bitter coldness of his words as he tore away your dignity, your humanity, forcing you into submission. His laughter echoed in your ears, mocking your every effort to fight back. He had no mercy then, no care for the woman you were. All he saw was his possession, his prize, someone to control.

The way his hands had felt, cold and possessive, as he traced the lines of your skin like it was his right to claim every part of you. The pain of his betrayal, the way he used you and discarded you as if you were nothing more than a tool to further his own power.

You had been his prisoner—no, more than that, you had been his plaything, the puppet he controlled with ease. Every moment spent in his presence had been a war against yourself, against your very identity. You remember the times he forced you to obey, making you betray your own desires, your own will. The whispered threats in your ear, the promises of suffering if you didn’t comply.

He shattered you in ways you didn’t think were possible, each action carving deep wounds into your soul. He had a way of breaking people without ever laying a hand on them, of twisting their hearts until nothing was left but fear and compliance. You thought you would never escape him, thought you would never escape the darkness he cast over you.

And yet, now, as you sit here in this quiet, oppressive room, with him across the way, you feel something unexpected. The bond between you, twisted and broken as it is, pulls at you in ways you can’t explain. The warmth of him lingers in the air, even though your body tenses every time his eyes flicker to you. You can’t escape him, not entirely. Not now that the claim has been made.

Your heart aches with a bitter sort of love—one born not from affection, but from necessity. You hate him. You hate him for what he did, for everything he made you endure, for the part of you that will never be whole again because of him. But you cannot deny the bond, the tether that still holds you, pulling you toward him no matter how hard you try to resist.

You’re trapped, not just by the chains of this royal life, but by the chains he placed on your heart long ago. You can feel it now, the pull, strong and undeniable. And it sickens you. You want to hate him more than you already do, but there is no escaping it.

Your body trembles, and you quickly look away from him, refusing to let him see the turmoil inside you. The shame. The confusion. The ache that never quite goes away. You know you can’t escape him—not fully—and that truth cuts deeper than anything he ever did to you.

But then, as you sit there, in the silence of your own mind, the bitter memories still fresh and raw, you can’t help but wonder—what would it be like if you had never claimed him? Would you be free of all of this by now? Or would you have still been dragged into this life, into this web of manipulation and cruelty? Would Elle be safe? Would you?

The thought lingers, heavy and unanswered, as you look once more at Davide—at the man who was once your captor, your enemy, and now, the man whose blood runs through your veins, whose touch you cannot escape.

The weight of the past and the present bear down on you, and for a moment, you wonder if there will ever be a way to break free from it all. Or if you’re doomed to repeat the same cycle of pain forever.

The silence in the room stretches as Davide finally breaks it, his voice low but firm. "We have a choice," he says, his eyes meeting yours in a rare moment of sincerity, though there’s a guarded edge to his tone. "We can leave the council’s reach. We can live somewhere else, away from their eyes, their rules. No more playing their game of power."

For a moment, the words hang in the air, and you feel a flicker of something—hope, perhaps. It sounds too good to be true. You imagine the possibility of freedom, of a life without the constant weight of expectations, without the suffocating pressure of the royal world.

But as quickly as the thought blossoms, reality rushes in to crush it. Davide isn’t done yet.

"But," he continues, the weight of what he’s about to say settling between you like an anchor, "we’ll have to present our children to the Higher Council. A grand ball will be held—an event for them to meet the other royals, the supernatural with royal blood, and to be fated to one of them." His gaze darkens, as if reliving the same burden himself. "It’s the price we pay, no matter where we go."

Your heart sinks. The words echo in your mind, each one heavier than the last. The grand ball. The arranged fates. The very thought of your children, your future, bound to this cruel system, sends a wave of dread crashing through you. You thought, perhaps naively, that you could escape it all—that you could carve out a life for your family free from this constant manipulation. But the Higher Council’s grip is unrelenting, and no matter where you go, they will always find a way to pull you back in.

You can’t escape it. Not truly.

For a moment, everything inside you freezes. The thought of your children—Elle, of course, but any future children you may have—forced into this life, these expectations, is too much to bear. You don’t want them to grow up like this, trapped in a world of power plays and royal bloodlines, forced to meet the eyes of strangers who will decide their fates. You want them to have the choice, the freedom, to live their lives on their own terms, not as pawns in a game they never asked to play.

"Is this all we can hope for?" you ask, the question slipping from your lips before you can stop it. The bitterness in your voice cuts through the silence between you. "A life of half-freedom, where we’re allowed to live as long as we play their game when it matters?"

Davide’s expression hardens, but there’s something more behind his eyes. Something you can’t quite read. "It’s the price of power," he replies, almost as though he’s resigned himself to the inevitable. "We can’t change it. Not completely. But we can carve out some semblance of peace for ourselves, for now."

You feel a storm brewing inside you, a whirlwind of emotions that threatens to consume you whole. Part of you wants to scream, to demand more—demand that your children be given the life they deserve, the life you never had. But the other part of you, the part that has seen the world for what it is, knows the truth.

This is the world you live in. And no matter how much you want to fight against it, no matter how badly you want to protect your children, there’s nothing you can do that won’t come with a price.

And that price is always too high.

"How long until that day comes?" you ask quietly, dreading the answer.

"Many years," Davide says, but there’s a dark look in his eyes. "But it’s not the waiting that’s the hardest part. It’s what comes after."

You can’t bring yourself to ask what comes after. You don’t want to know.

The weight of what he’s told you sinks in like a stone, pressing down on your chest, suffocating you. You wish you could believe there was another way, some secret path that could lead to a life of peace, but you know, deep down, there isn’t. The council will always be there, watching, waiting.

For a moment, all you can do is sit in the heavy silence that stretches between you, both of you trapped by the life you’ve been forced to live, no matter how far you try to run.

And for the first time in a long time, you wonder if you will ever truly be free.