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After Alaric stepped into the chambers, Lady Vaelor gave Zara a lingering glance before silently excusing herself, her expression unreadable as she disappeared through the doorway. The air shifted the mont the door shut behind her, leaving Zara and Alaric alone in the flickering candlelight.
For a long mont, neither of them spoke. Zara still couldn’t believe she was standing here, face to face with the man who had taken everything from her. The man who had bound her to him with chains she could not see but could feel tightening around her soul.
She wasn’t sure who spoke first, but sohow, they began talking.
Their words were cautious at first, laced with veiled hostility, but as the conversation unfolded, Zara found herself, for the first ti staring at him, not as the ruthless warlord, not as the man who had stolen her kingdom, but as sothing else. Sothing human.
And that was when she noticed it.
Alaric’s breathing had grown uneven, his strong fra slightly unsteady. His skin, usually burning with an untad intensity, now carried an unnatural heat, as if flas simred just beneath his flesh.
A fine sheen of sweat glistened along his brow, and his normally sharp eyes had dulled with exhaustion.
Zara’s brows furrowed. "Alaric... you’re burning up."
"I’m fine," he muttered, his voice hoarse, but even as he said it, his legs nearly gave out beneath him.
Zara stepped forward instinctively, catching his arm before he could collapse. "You’re not fine," she snapped, her irritation masking the strange concern stirring within her. "Sit down before you fall over."
He shot her a glare, but his body betrayed him. She pressed her hands against his chest and forced him to lower himself onto the nearby chair. He was too weak to resist.
For a mont, he simply sat there, breathing heavily, his head bowed. Zara hesitated before kneeling in front of him. She could feel her heart pounding, why? she didn’t know.
But sothing inside her urged her to act.
Slowly, carefully, she lifted her hands, pressing them against his temples.
The mont she channeled her power, a soft glow emanated from her fingertips, spreading warmth through his fevered body. His breath hitched, his muscles tensing beneath her touch, but he didn’t push her away. He simply closed his eyes, allowing the magic to sink into his skin, restoring his strength.
The process took only a few minutes, but by the ti she was done, Zara felt her own body weaken. A faint dizziness swept over her, a familiar drain that ca with using too much of her energy. She pulled away, exhaling softly.
Alaric opened his eyes. The feverish haze was gone, replaced with sothing unreadable.
She expected him to sneer, to make so arrogant remark about her concern for him. Instead, he just stared at her, sothing flickering in his gaze, sothing raw, sothing unguarded.
And for so inexplicable reason, Zara felt sothing, too. Sothing soft. Sothing terrifyingly real. It wasn’t hatred, nor was it the forced pull of the spell. It was sothing else. Sothing she couldn’t na.
But then the mont passed. The world righted itself once more, and Alaric was fine.
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Later that day, Zara reconvened with Lady Vaelor, who wasted no ti in delivering important news.
"The eting has been set," Vaelor whispered, glancing around to ensure no prying ears were near. "You will et with the resistance tonight."
Zara nodded without hesitation. "I’ll be there."
That night, as the kingdom settled into uneasy silence, she dressed in dark clothing, concealing herself beneath a hooded cloak. The ti had co.
She was ready to move.
Zara wrapped her dark cloak tighter around herself, the thick fabric shielding her from the cold night air.
The corridors of the palace were eerily silent, save for the distant echo of armored boots patrolling the halls. She moved quickly but carefully, her heart pounding against her ribs as she slipped through a hidden passage behind the servant quarters.
They had arranged this eting in absolute secrecy, but there was always the chance that soone was watching. Scarlet. Alaric. Even the council. Her betrayal, if discovered might an her death.
Finally, she reached the old abandoned wine cellar beneath the palace, a place untouched since Calithea had fallen into Alaric’s hands.
The air was damp, thick with the scent of aged wood and earth. A single lantern flickered in the far corner, illuminating the hooded figures waiting for her.
Noblen and noblewon of Calithea. The last remnants of a once-proud kingdom.
The mont she stepped forward, all eyes turned to her.
A man stepped ahead of the group, his sharp features partially obscured by the shadows. Lord Devrin, a loyal noble from her court before Alaric’s conquest. He bowed low.
"My queen."
Zara hesitated at the title. She had not felt like a queen in so long. Not since she lost everything.
"I am no queen," she said bitterly. "Not while Alaric wears the crown."
Devrin straightened, his eyes burning with conviction. "Then help us take it back."
The others murmured in agreent. Zara’s pulse quickened.
"I want nothing more than to see Alaric fall," she whispered fiercely. "But I am bound to him. This spell, it chains in ways I do not understand.
Even now, I feel it pulling at , forcing to need him, to crave him when I should despise him." Her voice wavered with frustration. "I can’t fight it much longer."
A woman stepped forward, her face partially veiled. Lady Aeliana, one of Calithea’s greatest mages before the war.
"There is a way to break it," Aeliana said softly. "But it cos at a price."
Zara’s breath hitched. "What price?"
Aeliana hesitated. "Your life may be at risk."
Silence fell over the room. Zara clenched her fists.
"What do you an?" she asked.
Aeliana exhaled. "The love bind is tied to your soul, my queen. It is ant to ensure complete devotion. Breaking it requires undoing the magic at its root and it also requires that the mage who created the spell be the one to break it but now we don’t have that and so I would be the one trying to break the spell, that is against the rules of a love bind spell and that kind of disruption could kill you. If your body cannot handle the severance... you may not survive."
Zara’s stomach twisted. Death. It was a risk she had expected but hearing it aloud made the weight of it sink into her bones.
But what choice did she have? If she did nothing, she would remain a puppet, slowly losing herself to Alaric’s control.
"I will do it," she said firmly.
The nobles exchanged glances, so hesitant, others resolute.
"There is more," Devrin added. "The ritual must be perford in secrecy, far from Alaric’s reach. If he senses the spell weakening, he will tighten his hold on you."
Zara swallowed hard.
"He already is," she murmured.
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The mont she stepped back into her chambers, a searing heat blood in her chest. Zara gasped, clutching at the fabric of her dress as the invisible bond twisted around her like iron chains.
A deep voice cut through the silence.
"You’ve been sowhere you shouldn’t be."
Her breath caught as she turned.
Alaric stood in the shadows of her chamber, leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His piercing eyes glead with sothing dark, sothing knowing.
Fear coiled in her stomach, but she masked it behind cold indifference. "I went for a walk."
Alaric pushed off the wall, moving toward her with slow, predatory steps.
"You’re lying," he said smoothly.
Zara lifted her chin, forcing herself to hold his gaze.
"I am your queen. I do not need permission to take a walk."
A flicker of amusent danced across his features, but it was quickly replaced by sothing more dangerous.
"I can felt it, my queen," he murmured, reaching out to cup her chin between his fingers. His grip was firm, unyielding. "your resistance, I can feel it"
She shuddered as the warmth of the spell flared beneath his touch, making her body betray her.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she whispered.
Alaric’s fingers trailed down her throat, lingering at her pulse point. "Don’t you?" His voice was silk and steel. "You’re fighting it. I can feel your resistance."
Zara’s jaw clenched.
His other hand slid around her waist, pulling her against him. Her body reacted before her mind could stop it, her breath hitched, heat curling in her stomach. The spell was relentless, forcing her to lean into him when she wanted nothing more than to push him away.
"You will never win," he whispered against her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine. "The harder you fight, the more you need ."
Zara’s nails dug into her palms. She hated him. And yet, her heart betrayed her, aching for his touch.
Damn this magic.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The door creaked open, breaking the tension.
Lady Vaelor stepped inside, bowing slightly.
"My king," she greeted, her voice smooth, respectful.
Zara turned sharply to her. "What is it?"
Lady Vaelor’s eyes flickered to Alaric. He nodded once, dismissing Zara as if she were an afterthought.
"I summoned her my love, give a mont with lady Vaelor" he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead before stepping away.
Zara stood there, tense, watching as Alaric and Lady Vaelor moved to the far side of the room.
She couldn’t hear their whispers, but she saw the way Vaelor’s gaze darkened, the way Alaric’s smirk grew.
A cold sensation crept down Zara’s spine.
Sothing wasn’t right.
As Lady Vaelor bowed once more and left, Alaric turned to Zara with a satisfied smirk.
"Get so rest, my queen." His voice was almost mocking.
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