Chapter 10 (Continued): The Void King Appears
The doors closed behind him without a sound.
Elowen realized only then that the silence had changed. It was no longer the strained quiet of fear or expectation, but something heavier like the air itself had bent around his presence. The candles lining the chamber flickered once, then steadied, their flames bowing subtly inward, as though acknowledging a master.
Lord Kael Draven of Blackspire stood several paces away.
He did not approach her.
That alone unsettled her more than any stride toward her ever could have.
He was tall taller than she had imagined, though imagination had failed her entirely when it came to him. His dark armor was not ceremonial despite the wedding that had bound them only hours ago. It bore the faint scars of use, edges dulled not by neglect but by blood and battle. Shadows clung to him unnaturally, curling along the lines of his shoulders and throat like living things that recognized their king.
His face was sharp in a way that suggested discipline rather than cruelty. Dark hair fell loose, brushing the collar of his armor, and his eyes
Elowen swallowed.
They were not black as the rumors claimed.
They were a deep, endless gray, like storm clouds stretched over a void. When they rested on her, the world seemed to narrow until there was only the space between them.
She instinctively lowered her gaze.
Not out of obedience.
Out of survival.
"I told them to give you a choice," Kael said at last.
His voice was quiet. Too quiet for someone so feared. It carried no threat, no raised edge, no cruelty but it held weight. Every word landed like a stone dropped into still water.
Elowen's fingers tightened in the fabric of her borrowed gown.
"They said," she began, then stopped. Her throat felt dry. She tried again. "They said my choices ended when the contract was signed."
Kael's jaw tightened.
The shadows around him stirred.
He exhaled slowly, visibly restraining something that pressed against the edges of his control. When he spoke again, it was deliberate measured.
"They lied."
Her heart stumbled.
She dared to look up.
He had not moved closer, but something in his posture had shifted. Not aggression. Restraint. As though he were holding himself still by sheer will alone.
"You are my wife by law," Kael continued. "By treaty. By ink and seal." His gaze softened barely, but enough that she noticed. "You are not my possession."
The word struck her harder than any insult her family had ever thrown.
Not… possession?
"I don't understand," she whispered honestly.
"I know." He paused. "That is not your fault."
That more than anything fractured the careful walls she had built around herself. Her family had never spoken those words to her. Not once. Every bruise, every order barked at her as though she were a servant rather than blood those had always been her fault.
Kael moved then.
Not toward her but toward the window, where moonlight spilled across the stone floor. He stopped there, standing half in shadow, half in silver light.
"You were brought here because your family wanted coin and protection," he said. "I agreed because it secured my borders."
So it was a bargain. A transaction. The hollow in her chest returned.
"But," he added, turning back to her, "that does not give me the right to touch you. Or command you. Or claim more than you are willing to give."
Her breath caught.
Slowly, carefully, Kael removed one gauntlet and set it aside. Then the other. The sound of metal against stone echoed softly in the chamber, loud in the hush between them.
"I have been called a monster," he said. "A butcher. A tyrant who takes what he wants."
His gaze locked onto hers.
"I will not be that man to you."
The words settled deep, heavy with promise.
Elowen's knees weakened slightly, and she sank onto the edge of the bed without realizing she had moved. The mattress dipped beneath her weight, silk whispering against her skin.
Kael noticed.
The shadows reacted before he did rippling sharply but he forced them back with a clenched fist.
"You are trembling," he said quietly.
She laughed once, breathless and broken. "I was told you'd kill me if I displeased you."
Something dark and dangerous flickered across his expression not toward her, but toward whoever had planted that fear so deeply inside her.
"I do not kill women who are afraid," he said. "And I do not touch those who do not wish it."
He hesitated, then added, more softly, "If you wish me to leave, I will."
The room spun.
No one had ever offered her that kind of power before.
"I… don't want you to leave," Elowen said, surprising herself with the truth. "But I don't know how to… be a wife."
A muscle in Kael's face twitched something like relief, quickly smothered.
"You do not have to be anything tonight," he replied. "Or tomorrow. Or ever, unless you choose it."
He approached the bed then, slow enough that she could have told him to stop at any moment. He stopped a careful distance away and lowered himself to one knee not in submission, but in balance, meeting her eye level without towering over her.
His power pressed gently against her senses now not crushing, but vast. Endless. Like standing at the edge of an abyss that chose not to swallow her.
"You are safe here," Kael said. "I swear it."
Something in her chest cracked open.
Tears welled before she could stop them. She pressed her lips together, ashamed, but he did not look away.
"May I?" he asked quietly, gesturing to the sleeve of her gown.
She nodded.
His fingers barely brushed her skin as he adjusted the fabric careful, reverent. When his knuckles grazed one of the old bruises she had failed to hide, the air shifted violently.
The shadows surged.
Kael froze.
Then very deliberately he pulled his hand back and closed his eyes, breathing through whatever storm raged inside him.
"No one," he said, voice low and dangerous, "will ever lay a hand on you like that again."
She believed him.
Not because of his power.
But because of his restraint.
Kael rose and stepped back, giving her space once more.
"Rest," he said. "You have had enough fear for one lifetime."
As he turned to leave for the adjoining chamber, Elowen spoke without thinking.
"My lord?"
He paused.
"…Kael," she corrected herself, heart racing.
He looked back at her, surprised and something warm flickered briefly in his eyes.
"Yes?"
"Thank you," she whispered.
The shadows stilled completely.
Kael inclined his head not as a warlord.
But as a man who had just been trusted with something fragile.
And for the first time since she'd been sold like property, Elowen slept without fear of what the night might take from her.