The night air felt sharp, heavy with the scent of wet earth.
Her lungs burned with every uneven breath, yet somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew something was fundamentally wrong with the way she was breathing.
She didn’t know how far the palace was behind her; she only knew she had to move away to feel safe.
Evryn ran through the forest, chased by something she could not see.
“If you stop,” she whispered through broken breaths, “you’re dead”.
She had no plan, and her body moved on its own as branches scraped her face and roots rose like traps.
Her thoughts were a mess of confusion and pain.
She remembered dying.
She remembered a face leaning over her, but the memory was like ink washed away by rain.
Then, she heard it: the steady, controlled rhythm of hooves striking the ground.
Her heart should have leaped into her throat.
Instead, she realized with a twist of terror that she felt no heartbeat at all.
“A horse?” she whispered, her voice shaking.
She tried to run faster, but the sound behind her only grew closer…steady and confident.
Whoever followed her was not afraid.
She glanced back and saw a dark shape on horseback.
“Don’t look back,” she muttered to herself.
“Just run”.
But fear pulled at her, and when she looked a second time, the rider was too close.
Panic blinded her.
She turned her head forward, straight into a tree with full force.
The impact exploded through her body, and after a small, broken sound, everything went dark.
The forest fell silent until the horse reached her.
Auren stepped down from the saddle, his boots landing softly.
He looked at Evryn lying in the dirt, her bright hair spread across the earth.
“That will hurt when she wakes,” he said quietly.
He crouched beside her, his fingers resting against the coolness of her neck.
She had not fed yet, and the warmth had not returned to her skin.
Under the moonlight, she looked different; her hair, once brown, now deep orange like living flame.
Behind her closed eyelids, he could see a faint gold glow.
“She runs from a palace,” he murmured to himself.
“Escapes guards.
Climbs from a window.
And loses to wood”.
Auren lifted her carefully against his chest and turned back toward the palace.
He walked through the gates without slowing.
The guards stepped aside quickly, lowering their eyes in silence.
Inside her chamber, the scene was one of desperate rebellion.
The window was open, and a long line made of twisted sheets, curtains, and clothing trailed down the palace wall.
It had snapped under her weight.
“She did not hesitate,” Auren murmured, his jaw tightening.
“She would rather fall from stone than stay in this room”.
He laid her on the bed and called for Abby.
A gate of golden light opened, and a young short black hair woman stepped through her black eyes on the bed.
“She jumped,” Abby said softly.
“She fell,” Auren corrected.
Abby used her magic to heal the deep damage in Evryn’s shoulder.
Once the glow faded and the bruise lightened, Auren dismissed her.
Standing alone by the bed, he brushed a strand of hair from Evryn’s face.
“I don’t know when you will allow me to touch you again,” he whispered.
He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss.
“I missed those lips…
A lot”.
He sat in a chair beside her; his eyes fixed on her peaceful face as his mind drifted back to how it all began.
The ceremony hall was loud with music and fragile laughter, but Auren stood apart from it all, unmoved by the display.
He attended only because politics demanded it, showing no respect for the peace the event pretended to celebrate.
Human nobles spoke in hushed, careful tones when they passed him, terrified to even look at his face.
He had no interest in the servants moving through the crowd.
Until something shifted.
It began as a subtle tightening in his chest, an irritation he almost dismissed.
Near the center of the hall, a tray tilted.
A glass shattered against the marble, and dark red wine spread across the floor like blood.
A young maid knelt quickly to clean the mess, her movements quiet and efficient as she apologized softly to a noble.
Auren did not stare; he simply looked.
And the world changed.
The tightening in his chest became a sharp, sudden pressure, as if invisible hands had wrapped around his ribs and pulled inward.
His breath stalled.
Something ancient in his blood reacted violently…not with hunger or attraction, but with a singular, crushing command: Protect.
The instinct struck him with a force that was not his own.
His gaze returned to her against his will.
She stood up and moved to another table, completely unaware that the most powerful being in the room had just become bound to her existence.
Auren tried to fight it.
He forced his gaze away and turned toward the exit.
But with every step he took in the opposite direction, the pressure deepened into a warning pain.
By the time he reached the shadows where Abby could open a gate, the pain had coiled in his chest with lethal intent.
The moment he stepped through the golden gate and put a vast distance between himself and the maid, the pain exploded.
It struck his very power, turning his own energy against him, and he had to brace himself against the cold stone wall of his chamber as his vision darkened.
Abby, who had been standing nearby, froze when she saw her lord in that state.
At once, she lifted her hand, golden magic moving toward him as her face filled with alarm.
“You are under a spell,” Abby said quietly.
Auren cursed under his breath and forced himself upright.
“What kind?” he asked coldly.
“Can you break it?”
Abby slowly shook her head.
“No, my lord.
It is forbidden.
Ancient.
This kind of spell comes from love.
Someone loves her deeply enough to bind the strongest presence around to protect her.”
Auren’s jaw tightened, and his silver eyes darkened.
“In that hall,” he said coldly, “that was me.”
His pride flared.
“I am no one’s guard,” he snapped.
“I do not lower myself to stand beside a human servant.”
He decided to end her life to break the bond.
But the moment the thought fully formed, his power turned against him like a storm, lashing through his veins in blinding punishment.
Pain tore through his body so violently that even breathing became difficult.
The spell would not allow it.
It would not even let him think of harming her.
Desperate, he turned to Abby.
“Kill the girl,” he ordered coldly.
But before Abby could even answer, Auren’s own body moved against his will.
In a blur, he crossed the room and seized Abby by the throat, his hand stopping her from obeying the very order he had given.
He released her a second later, his whole-body tense, trembling with disbelief.
Even his own flesh had turned against him to protect the maid.
His silver eyes darkened.
He forced himself to think past the pain.
“Bring her here,” he said at last, his voice hard.
“Lock her in the lower cages.
She will stay there until I find someone capable of breaking this spell.”
But the moment the order left his mouth; the bond struck him again.
A sharp wave of agony ripped through his chest and power, stronger than before, as if the spell itself rejected even the thought of treating her like a prisoner.
Auren staggered, one hand catching the edge of the table to keep himself standing, fury and disbelief burning across his face.
The message was now unmistakable.
The spell would not let him kill her.
It would not let others kill her.
And it would not even let him cage her.
It had wrapped itself around every violent intention he held toward the girl and turned his own strength into her shield.
“It will not allow you, or anyone, to harm her,” Abby whispered.
Auren straightened slowly, regaining control of his posture even if he had lost control of his life.
The pressure pulsed in his chest, reminding him that there was only one path left.
“You must protect her, Auren” Abby said.
The thought was a humiliation…to act as a guard for a servant, he closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, the cold resolve had returned.
“I will not return,” he said.