Aliena woke up screaming.
She shot upright in bed, heart pounding violently against her ribs, breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps as her eyes flew around the room.
Pale morning light streamed through tall palace windows, illuminating silk curtains, polished floors, and the unmistakable luxury of her chamber.
She was not in the forest.
She was not surrounded by shadows.
She was not about to be devoured by demons.
She pressed a hand to her chest, breathing hard.
“I’m alive,” she whispered shakily.
“I’m… alive.”
Then the memories crashed into her.
The forest.
The cold.
The demons.
Sebastian.
Her eyes widened as the events replayed themselves in brutal clarity, his voice, his touch, the way he had healed her wound, the way he had looked at her as though the world had narrowed to only her existence.
She let out a strangled gasp.
“I almost kissed the Crown Prince,” she whispered in horror.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“No—worse,” she added, mortified.
“I almost felt something.”
She groaned and collapsed back onto the bed, covering her face with her pillow.
“This is bad.
This is very, very bad.”
Her fingers brushed against the necklace beneath her nightdress.
It felt warm.
Comfortingly so.
Not glowing.
Not burning.
Just… present.
Her heart skipped.
The golden light.
The way it had wrapped around their hands.
The way Sebastian had gone so still.
Her breath caught.
“Oh no,” she whispered.
“No, no, no—”
A knock interrupted her spiral.
“Aliena?” Dinna’s cheerful voice floated through the door.
“Are you awake, or are you pretending to be unconscious again?”
Aliena bolted upright.
“I’m awake!”
The door opened, and Dinna entered with a tray of breakfast balanced expertly in her hands.
She took one look at Aliena’s wild hair, pale face, and wide eyes and raised a brow.
“…You look like someone who wrestled a nightmare and lost.”
“I almost died,” Aliena muttered.
Dinna blinked.
“…Again?”
“Yes.”
Dinna nodded thoughtfully and placed the tray down.
“That tracks.”
Aliena stared at her.
“You’re not even surprised?”
“My lady,” Dinna said calmly, pouring tea, “you live in a palace full of vampires, nobles, secrets, and a Crown Prince with the emotional range of a blade.
I stopped being surprised days ago.”
Aliena snorted despite herself, then immediately clamped her mouth shut, remembering herself.
“Dinna,” she whispered urgently, “I think I did something terrible.”
Dinna sat.
“Was it illegal?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it immoral?”
“Possibly.”
“Did it involve the Crown Prince?”
Dinna’s eyes widened.
“Oh.
Oh no.”
“I didn’t mean to!” Aliena rushed.
“It just—happened.
The forest.
The danger.
He was close and intense and—”
Dinna held up a hand.
“Stop.
I need tea before this story continues.”
Breakfast helped.
A little.
Aliena ate mechanically while recounting the events—leaving out certain details she absolutely refused to process aloud.
Dinna listened, eyes growing wider with every sentence.
“Demons,” Dinna repeated slowly.
“You were abducted by demons.
And saved by the Crown Prince.
In the forest.”
“Yes.”
“And he healed you.”
“Yes.”
“And you survived.”
“Yes.”
Dinna leaned back.
“I leave you alone for one evening.”
Aliena buried her face in her hands.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to face him now.”
“You could try pretending you faint every time he enters the room.”
“I am not fainting on command!”
“Shame,” Dinna said.
“It’s a useful skill.”
After breakfast, Dinna helped her bathe and dress.
Aliena chose something elegant but modest, soft fabric, long sleeves, nothing that screamed I was almost romantically traumatized in the woods.
As Dinna fixed her hair, she paused.
“You know,” she said casually, “the Crown Prince hasn’t slept.”
Aliena stiffened.
“How do you know that?”
“The entire palace knows,” Dinna replied dryly.
“He nearly bit a council member this morning.”
“…Oh.”
“He’s been pacing.
Snapping.
Glowering at walls.”
Aliena swallowed.
“That’s… concerning.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Dinna said cheerfully.
“But also fascinating.”
Elsewhere in the palace, Sebastian was unraveling.
He stood at the tall window of his private study, hands clenched behind his back, eyes darker than Aliena had ever seen them.
Gone was the controlled calm, the cold authority.
What remained was something fractured.
Haunted.
Miles leaned casually against a pillar, arms crossed, observing him with unsettling calm.
“You haven’t blinked in five minutes,” Miles said.
“At this rate, your eyes may fossilize.”
Sebastian ignored him.
“You didn’t sleep,” Miles continued.
“You scared three servants.
And the council is whispering.”
“Let them whisper,” Sebastian snapped.
Miles raised a brow.
“You’re terrified.” The source of this chapter is g.com.
Sebastian’s jaw tightened.
“I am not.”
“You hunted demons in the forest,” Miles said evenly.
“That didn’t terrify you.
This does.”
Silence.
“She’s human-weak,” Sebastian said finally, voice low.
“Fragile.
Untrained.”
“And?”
“And she makes my instincts… misbehave.”
Miles smiled faintly.
“Ah.”
Sebastian turned sharply.
“Do not say it.”
Miles tilted his head.
“Say what?”
“That word.”
Miles straightened.
“Sebastian.”
“No.”
“You know what it means.”
“I refuse to acknowledge it.”
Miles stepped closer, expression turning serious.
“The bond does not care about your refusal.”
Sebastian dragged a hand through his hair.
“She doesn’t even understand what happened.”
“Good,” Miles said.
“Ignorance is safer.”
Sebastian laughed bitterly.
“For her, perhaps.
Not for me.”
Miles studied him quietly.
“You’ll protect her.”
Sebastian’s answer was immediate.
“With my life.”
Miles nodded once.
“Then act like it.
And stop glaring at windows.”
Sebastian exhaled sharply.
“She’s too close.”
Miles smirked.
“You saved her from demons.
A hallway encounter will not kill you.”
Sebastian wasn’t convinced.
Later that morning, Aliena wandered the palace halls, trying, and failing, to appear normal.
Every corner felt charged, every shadow suspicious.
And then she saw him.
Sebastian walked toward her, expression cold, posture rigid, eyes fixed ahead.
Her heart leapt.
He passed her.
Did not slow.
Did not look.
Did not acknowledge her existence.
She stopped walking.
“Oh,” she murmured.
Her chest tightened in a way she didn’t like.
“Well,” she said quietly to herself, forcing a smile, “that answers that.”
She squared her shoulders and kept walking, unaware that Sebastian’s hands were clenched so tightly his nails had pierced his palms.
Because some mornings, the most dramatic battles were the ones fought in silence.
And both of them were losing.
They were both in denial.