Auren stood alone in the garden, the afternoon light falling across the grass in long shadows.
The farm was quiet again, but his thoughts were not.
He replayed the market in his mind, the moment he saw her on the ground, the blood near her brow, the fear that had struck him deeper than pride ever had.
He hated her.
He reminded himself of that.
She challenged him, mocked him, ordered him like he belonged beneath her voice.
Yet when he saw her hurt, something inside him had reacted without thought.
It had not felt like humiliation.
It had felt like rage.
He tried to dismiss it.
The spell, he told himself.
The magic shaped his reactions.
The magic forced his body to move, forced his chest to tighten, forced his mind to fear her harm.
This is not you; he told himself.
This is the spell, he repeated it until the words felt steady.
The air shifted behind him.
A golden gate opened quietly, and Asric stepped through.
Wore a formal clothing, tailored perfectly, a long coat fitted to his broad shoulders.
His brown hair was brushed back neatly, and his brown eyes held their usual sharp amusement.
Even standing still, strength showed in the way he carried himself.
Unlike Auren’s controlled stillness, Asric moved lightly, almost casually, as if the world rarely pressed heavily on him.
“You look troubled,” Asric said softly.
Auren did not answer.
He extended his hand, and Asric handed him a folded letter.
“From Abby,” Asric added.
While Auren read, Asric’s gaze wandered through the garden.
He studied the estate buildings, the paths, the quiet space.
Then his eyes returned to Auren.
“So,” Asric said calmly, “where is she?
I would like to see the woman who managed to bind the king himself.
I wonder what her mind looks like.”
Auren’s focus remained on the letter.
The more he read, the colder his expression became.
Abby had searched deeper into the forbidden spell.
The protector was not only bound to guard her.
Their lives were tied.
If she died, the protector would die with her.
The magic would not allow failure.
“If she dies, you die.”
The words struck him harder than any blade ever could.
His jaw tightened instinctively, though his expression did not fully betray the impact.
This was not something he had chosen.
Not something he had agreed to willingly.
And yet, whether he accepted it or not, his life now stood bound to hers…balanced on the fragile line of her survival.
Auren stepped closer to Asric, his silver eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp warning.
“You must listen to me.
Do not open a gate here whenever the whim strikes you.
You must be careful.
If the servants see the magic or catch a glimpse of you, this fragile disguise will shatter.
I cannot have them questioning why a high lord is visiting a common hand.”
Asric shrugged casually, leaning back against a tree.
“I knew you were alone, cousin.
I thought you might appreciate the company while you’re ‘relaxing’ in the dirt.
Besides, you need to find a more permanent solution.
How long can you live like this, working as a servant and sleeping in a shack?
Just bring the girl with you.
Let her work at your palace.”
Auren’s jaw tightened at the suggestion.
He thought of Evryn…the way her hazel eyes burned with defiance even when she was exhausted, and the way she had shielded his dignity in the kitchen.
“It is not that easy,” Auren said, his tone heavy with frustration.
“She is engaged, and she has a best friend she treats like blood.
She won’t just leave them and come to our world, not even for all the gold in the Shadow Realm.
For now, I have no choice except to wait and stay by her side.”
Asric let out a low, amused hum, his eyes drifting toward the path leading back to the house.
My curiosity is just high, Auren.
I want to see your little bird.”
Before Auren could respond, he felt it.
The pull in his chest shifted…subtle, but unmistakable.
A connection tightening.
Drawing closer.
She was coming.
Auren lowered the letter slowly, the paper folding between his fingers, and lifted his gaze toward Asric.
One glance was enough to understand the problem.
There would be no hiding what they were.
“Damn it,” Auren muttered quietly.
“She is coming.”
Asric’s lips curved faintly.
Evryn stepped into the garden moments later.
She slowed when she saw a second man standing beside Auren.
Auren stepped forward slightly.
“Are you alright?” he asked her first.
She nodded.
“I am fine.”
Her eyes had already moved to Asric.
“So?” she asked.
Auren exhaled slowly.
“This is Asric.
Asric, this is Evryn.”
Asric stepped forward with smooth confidence.
He took her hand gently and bowed, pressing a polite kiss against her knuckles.
“A pleasure,” he said warmly.
Auren watched the gesture with a sharp gaze.
He knew his cousin well.
Asric enjoyed complexity.
He enjoyed tension.
He enjoyed pushing situations until they twisted.
Evryn studied Asric carefully.
She noticed at once how similar they were in posture and speech.
The controlled movements.
The authority beneath calm voices.
Yet they were not the same.
Asric’s brown eyes held open charm.
His smile came easily, light and inviting.
His brown hair softened his features, and his clothing declared status without shame.
He looked like a man comfortable in power.
Beside him, Auren stood in simple servant clothes, White fabric plain against his frame.
So hard to smile.
One dressed as a noble.
One dressed as a servant.
The contrast was impossible to ignore, and they stand close to each other.
Auren knew her well enough to see the questions forming in her mind.
Before she could ask, he spoke to Asric calmly.
“Thank you for your visit,” he said evenly.
Asric’s smile deepened slightly, he understood the dismissal.
“It seems I arrived at the wrong time,” Asric replied lightly.
Without further explanation, he stepped back.
This time he did not use the magic.
He walked to the gate of the farm until the gate swallowed his presence.
Evryn stared at the empty space for a moment.
Auren studied her expression carefully.
He wished briefly, for the first time in his life, that he possessed Asric’s gift to read thoughts.
He wanted to know what she was thinking.
She turned to him slowly.
“I came to say thank you,” she said.
“And you may rest today.
Consider it a reward.”
She began to turn away.
Without thinking, he reached for her wrist gently and stopped her.
He stepped closer. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Up close, he could see the darkened skin beneath her eye and the small wound near her brow.
The sight tightened something deep inside him.
His hand remained around her wrist, careful.
He wanted to lift his fingers to her face, to check the swelling himself, but he stopped.
Focus, Auren.
You protect her, if she dies, you die.
That is what matters.
He released her slowly, pulling his hand back to his side.
For the first time, she saw something different in his eyes.
The sharpness was still there, but beneath it was softness she had not seen before.
His grip had not hurt.
It had been gentle.
She felt it.
And for a brief moment, neither of them spoke and something between them had shifted again.
Asric returned to the palace with measured steps.
The long corridor of black stone reflected faint light from the torches, and servants bowed as he passed.
Nothing in his face showed the storm forming beneath his thoughts.
The moment he had touched Evryn’s hand; he had reached for her mind out of habit.
He always read human easily.
It was natural to him, effortless.
This time, something had blocked him.
His power had brushed against an invisible barrier and been pushed away with quiet force.
It had not hurt him, but it had warned him.
That was not ordinary magic.
Inside his private chamber, he removed his gloves slowly, thinking carefully through what he had felt.
If her mind was shielded, then the spell was layered deeper than he first assumed.
Whoever cast it had not only chosen a protector.
They had sealed her from outside influence.
That meant power.
That meant intention.
“Zain” asric called a name in the empty room
Moments later, the air folded open.
Zain stepped through his own gate.
The wizard’s robe brushed the floor as he entered, his dark eyes already searching Asric’s expression.
Zain was not a man who wasted time.
“You called,” Zain said calmly.
“I need information,” Asric replied.
Zain studied him.
“About?”
“There is a protection spell,” Asric continued slowly.
“It selects the strongest nearby and binds him as guardian.
I want details.”
Zain’s expression changed slightly.
“It is ancient.
Dangerous.” Zain folded his hands.
“If the spell chooses a protector, that protector cannot abandon the one protected.
Their lives are tied.
If she dies, he dies.
The magic ensures loyalty through fear.”
Asric’s brown eyes widened slightly.
“So, if the protector fails” he asked.
“He dies with her,” Zain answered simply.
Silence settled between them.
Then Asric began to laugh.
It was soft at first.
Then sharper.
“So,” he murmured to himself, “cousin…
you are in serious trouble.”
Auren was not distracted; he was trapped and the trap had teeth.
Asric finally turned back toward Zain, his brown eyes steady.
“I found a weakness,” he said quietly.
“Finally.”
Zain’s lips curved faintly.
He did not need asric to explain further, he understood enough.