The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of their footsteps. The forest had swallowed the rest of the world whole, leaving nothing but the shadows of towering trees and the cold bite of uncertainty.
Selene walked with her chin high, her wrists bound in front of her with thick iron cuffs. Beside her, Seraphina moved just as stiffly, her golden eyes flickering with restrained anger.
They were being taken deeper into the vampire king's domain.
Damian Kieran.
The name had not been spoken, but she knew it now. The sheer weight of his presence, the way his men moved with silent obedience—it left no doubt. He wasn't just a leader. He was the kind of ruler people feared to defy.
Selene clenched her fists, her claws digging into her palms. Her entire life had been spent proving she was strong enough, fighting against those who saw her as unworthy. And now, she was bound and being dragged through a vampire's land like a prisoner.
Like a helpless girl.
Her pride roared in protest, but she swallowed it down. Now wasn't the time.
She cast a glance at the man walking ahead of them. Damian.
He hadn't looked at her since they started moving. Not once.
She should have been relieved. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped under the weight of his gaze again. Because the moment their eyes had met back in the forest, everything had shifted.
She had felt it. The bond.
But it wasn't just the pull of fate that unsettled her. It was the way he had reacted to it—cold, detached, unaffected.
It was exactly what she wanted.
And yet, it burned.
"Hey," Seraphina whispered beside her, her voice low enough to avoid the sharp ears of their captors. "You doing okay?"
Selene exhaled through her nose. "I'm fine."
Seraphina arched a brow. "You don't look fine."
Selene shot her a look.
Seraphina sighed, her voice softer this time. "This isn't your fault."
Selene didn't respond. Because a part of her wasn't sure that was true.
They shouldn't have been caught so easily.
And yet, Damian had moved like he had known exactly where she would be. Like he had been expecting her.
That thought unsettled her more than the chains on her wrists.
The path widened ahead, leading to an ancient fortress carved into the mountainside. The sight of it made Selene's breath hitch. Towering stone walls loomed over them, torches flickering along the entrance, casting long shadows that danced against the stone.
A fortress. A prison.
As they passed through the heavy gates, Selene's muscles tensed. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to fight, to do anything but step willingly into the heart of enemy territory.
But she forced herself to move forward.
They were led through a long corridor, the air thick with the scent of old stone and burning wood. The moment they stepped into a large, open hall, the guards halted.
Damian turned at last, his gaze sweeping over them with quiet authority. "Unbind them."
One of the guards hesitated. "My king, are you sure—"
Damian's gaze flicked to him. "Now."
The guard swallowed before stepping forward. A sharp click, and the weight around Selene's wrists disappeared.
She rubbed at her skin, resisting the urge to shake off the phantom feeling of restraint.
Seraphina muttered under her breath, "About damn time."
Damian ignored her. Instead, his gaze locked onto Selene's.
"You crossed into my land," he said, his voice measured. "That alone is reason enough to execute you."
Seraphina stiffened beside her, but Selene held Damian's gaze.
"You didn't."
His expression remained unreadable. "Not yet."
Selene resisted the urge to bare her teeth. "We didn't come here to cause trouble. We were tracking something—"
"I know," Damian cut in.
Selene blinked. "You know?"
His brown eyes gleamed under the dim torchlight. "You think I wouldn't notice rogues lurking near my borders?"
Selene hesitated. "Then why capture us?"
"Because I don't believe in coincidences."
His words sent a chill down her spine.
Selene wasn't naïve. She had spent her entire life being underestimated, overlooked. But she had also learned to read between the lines, to see the patterns others missed.
Damian wasn't just suspicious of her.
He was watching her.
Studying her.
And the worst part?
She didn't know why.
He turned to one of his guards. "Get them rooms. Under watch."
Selene's jaw tightened. "We're not prisoners."
His gaze snapped back to her, something dangerous flickering beneath the surface. "You're not free either."
Her stomach twisted.
She wasn't afraid. She had spent too many years fighting to let fear rule her now.
But the way Damian spoke—the way he looked at her—left her with a different kind of unease.
Because for the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure what was going to happen next.
And she hated that.