Cassia's POV
Someone is screaming.
I jolt awake, heart hammering, ready to see flames or executioners or Seraphine's cold smile—
But there's nothing. Just silence. And the softest bed I've ever felt in my life.
I'm not in a dungeon. I'm not on a burning stake. I'm lying in a massive bed with silk sheets that feel like water against my skin. Sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, and when I turn my head, I see mountains. Actual mountains, covered in snow, stretching as far as I can see.
This isn't Aurelia. We don't have mountains in Aurelia.
For one wonderful moment, I let myself believe it was all a nightmare. My parents are alive. Seraphine is still my cousin, not my enemy. I'm just waking up from a terrible dream.
Then I see the burns on my wrists where the chains cut into my skin. The red marks on my ankles. The faint smell of smoke still clinging to my hair.
It was real. All of it.
I swing my legs out of bed and immediately regret it. My whole body aches like I've been beaten. My throat feels raw from screaming and smoke. Every movement hurts.
But I force myself to stand. To walk to the window.
The view takes my breath away. A massive fortress made of black stone sits on a mountain peak. Below, I see a city spread out like a dark jewel—buildings with sharp spires, walls that look impossibly thick, and people moving through streets like ants. Beyond the city, forests stretch in every direction, broken only by more mountains.
This is the Obsidian Court. The Dark King's home. His kingdom.
I'm trapped in the most beautiful prison I've ever seen.
I try the door. Locked, of course.
"Hello?" I call out, my voice hoarse. "Is anyone there?"
Footsteps approach immediately. The door unlocks, and a young girl enters. She can't be older than fourteen, with dark hair and wide, nervous eyes. She carries an armful of black fabric.
"My lady!" She drops into a curtsy so deep she almost falls over. "You're awake! His Majesty said to fetch him the moment you woke, but first I'm to help you dress for dinner—"
"Slow down," I interrupt gently. The poor girl looks terrified. "What's your name?"
"Elara, my lady." Another curtsy.
"Just Cassia is fine." I try to smile, even though nothing feels fine. "Where am I, Elara?"
"The Obsidian Court, my lady—I mean, Cassia." She sets the black fabric on the bed. "His Majesty's fortress. You're in the East Wing, in one of the royal guest chambers." She hesitates. "Everyone is talking about you. They say you're the Fated One. That you have divine power. That you made the king feel something for the first time in twenty years."
So the whole fortress knows. Of course they do.
"I don't feel very divine," I mutter, touching my burned wrists.
Elara's eyes go wide with concern. "Oh! Let me get the healer—"
"No!" The word comes out sharper than I intended. I don't want strangers touching me, examining me, asking questions. "I'm fine. Just... help me get dressed, please."
Elara nods quickly and unfolds the fabric. It's a dress—simple but elegant, made of black silk that shimmers when it catches the light. She helps me into it, her hands gentle and practiced.
As she works, I notice something odd. "How did you know my size?"
Elara blushes. "His Majesty provided your measurements, my lady. He's very... observant."
A chill runs down my spine. Theron looked at me once and memorized my exact measurements? That's either impressive or deeply creepy. Maybe both.
"His Majesty requests your presence for dinner," Elara continues, braiding my hair. "In his private dining hall."
"And if I refuse?"
Elara's hands freeze. "Please don't refuse, my lady. He's been... different since you arrived. More on edge. The guards say he destroyed three training dummies this morning without even touching them. Just looked at them and they exploded into ice."
Great. I'm having dinner with an emotionally unstable king who can kill with a glance.
"Fine," I say. "Let's get this over with."
Elara leads me through hallways that seem to go on forever. Everything is made of dark stone that drinks in the light. Torches burn in iron holders, but they only make the shadows deeper. Servants press themselves against the walls as we pass, their eyes downcast. No one speaks. No one even seems to breathe loudly.
They're all terrified. Of him. Of this place.
Of me?
We finally reach a massive door guarded by two soldiers in black armor. They open it without a word.
Inside is a dining hall that could fit a hundred people. But there's only one person sitting at the long table.
Theron.
He doesn't look up when I enter. He's reading papers, his expression cold and focused. A single plate of food sits in front of him, untouched.
Elara curtsies and practically runs from the room. The doors close behind her with a heavy thud.
I'm alone with the Dark King.
"Sit," he says without looking up. His voice is flat, emotionless. Like yesterday's fear and concern never happened. "We have much to discuss about why you're still alive."
I don't sit. Instead, I walk to the other end of the table—as far from him as possible—and remain standing.
"I'd rather know where I am and why I can't leave," I say, keeping my voice steady even though my heart is racing.
Theron finally looks up. His storm-cloud eyes sweep over me, taking in the dress, my braided hair, my defiant stance. Something flickers across his face too fast to read.
"You're in my fortress. You can't leave because leaving would get you killed." He sets down his papers. "Sit. Please."
The "please" surprises me. Carefully, I pull out a chair and sit. The table is so long I can barely see him clearly.
Theron sighs. "You don't have to sit at the opposite end of the kingdom."
"I don't trust you," I reply honestly.
"Good. You shouldn't." He stands and walks down the table toward me. I tense, ready to run, but he just pulls out a chair closer to mine and sits. "But we need to talk, and I'd rather not shout."
He gestures to the food on the table between us. Roasted meat, fresh bread, fruit I don't recognize, and wine that smells expensive. My stomach growls loudly. I haven't eaten since before the ball—two days ago? Three?
"Eat," Theron says. "You're no good to me if you starve to death."
"How comforting." But I reach for the bread anyway. I'm too hungry to let pride stop me.
Theron watches me eat with that unsettling intensity. After a moment, he speaks.
"Do you know what a soul bond is?"
I swallow my bite of bread. "You said our souls are bound. That if I die, you die."
"It's more complex than that." He leans back in his chair. "A soul bond is ancient magic—older than kingdoms, older than language. It ties two people together at the deepest level. Your pain becomes my pain. Your emotions bleed into mine. Your life force connects to mine."
"So I'm stuck with you forever?" The thought makes me want to scream.
"Unless one of us dies, yes." His expression doesn't change. "Which is why so many people want you dead. If you die, I die. And there are countless enemies who would celebrate my death."
My hand freezes halfway to reaching for more food. "So I'm... bait? A target?"
"Both." Theron's jaw tightens. "You're also the only person who can break my curse. Or trigger its ultimate consequence."
"The love thing," I say quietly. "If I fall in love with you, the world ends."
"If you freely fall in love with me," he corrects. "That's important. It has to be genuine. Unforced. Unmanipulated. Which is why I need to keep you here, where I can protect you from both external enemies and from..." He pauses. "From developing feelings that would doom us all."
I laugh. Actually laugh. It sounds slightly hysterical. "You think I could fall in love with you? The man who conquered my kingdom? Who let my parents die? Who—"
"I didn't let your parents die." His voice turns sharp. "Your cousin killed them before I even arrived in Aurelia. I came to your kingdom following a prophecy—looking for the one person who could break my curse. By the time I got there, Seraphine had already seized power."
I stare at him. "You're saying you didn't order their deaths?"
"I ordered many deaths," he says coldly. "But not theirs. Seraphine acted on her own. She wanted power, and she was willing to murder her own family to get it." His eyes bore into mine. "I'm a monster, Lady Cassia. I won't pretend otherwise. But I'm not the monster who killed your parents."
The words hit me like a physical blow. All this time, I thought Theron orchestrated everything. But he's saying Seraphine did it all herself?
"Why should I believe you?" I whisper.
"Because lying serves no purpose." He stands and walks to the window, his back to me. "We're bound together now. If I wanted to manipulate you, I'd tell you pretty lies. I'd promise to avenge your family. I'd play the tragic hero." He glances back at me. "But I respect you too much for that."
"Respect?" I can't keep the bitterness from my voice. "You locked me in a room."
"To keep you alive!" For the first time, emotion cracks through his cold facade. Anger. Frustration. "Do you know how many assassination attempts there have been since yesterday? Seven. Seven different groups tried to sneak into the fortress to kill you. And those are just the ones we caught."
My blood runs cold. "Seven?"
"Your cousin still has allies. My enemies want to use you as leverage. And then there are the fanatics who believe the prophecy means you're an abomination that needs to be destroyed." Theron turns fully to face me. "So yes, I locked the door. Because the alternative is watching you die, which would kill me too, and I've spent twenty years trying not to die."
We stare at each other across the room. The tension is so thick I can barely breathe.
"How long?" I finally ask. "How long do I have to stay locked up?"
"I don't know." And for once, he sounds almost human. Almost vulnerable. "Until I figure out how to keep you safe. Until I understand your power. Until I find a way to break the curse without triggering its catastrophic clause."
"And if you can't? If there's no way to break it?"
Theron's expression hardens. "Then we both learn to live with it. Forever bound. Never able to love. Trapped in an impossible situation."
A knock at the door interrupts us. A guard enters, looking nervous.
"Your Majesty, forgive the intrusion, but there's urgent news."
"Speak."
The guard swallows. "Seraphine has escaped from the kitchens. She killed two guards and fled into the mountains. And..." He hesitates. "She wasn't alone. Someone helped her escape. Someone from inside the fortress."
The temperature drops so sharply I see frost forming on the windows.
"Find her," Theron says, his voice deadly quiet. "And find whoever helped her. I want them brought to me alive."
The guard bows and runs.
Theron turns to me, and I see something in his eyes that makes my stomach drop.
Fear.
"She's coming for you," he says. "She won't stop until you're dead."
Before I can respond, another guard bursts through the door.
"Your Majesty! The fortress is under attack! Someone's opened the main gates—we have intruders—"
Alarms start blaring. Shouts echo through the hallways. The sound of clashing swords.
Theron moves faster than I can track. He's suddenly in front of me, pulling me to my feet.
"Stay close to me," he orders. "Do exactly as I say. Understand?"
I nod, too terrified to argue.
He draws a sword from thin air—literally just materializes it from nothing—and positions himself between me and the door.
The dining hall doors explode inward.
And through the smoke and debris, I see her.
Seraphine, covered in blood, holding a blade that glows with dark purple light.
Behind her stand at least twenty soldiers I don't recognize.
She smiles when she sees me.