The wind screamed through the white trees, carrying her breathless defiance into the shadows. Aelia didn't look back.
She wouldn't give him that.
Every step she took away from Kael felt like reclaiming a part of herself — the part she lost when she let him touch her, kiss her, lie to her.
> You don't get to say I didn't matter.
You don't get to break me and still own me.
Branches clawed at her skin as she stumbled through the wilds, mist thickening with each step. Her legs burned. Her palms bled from where she'd fallen. But she kept moving.
Anywhere was better than going back.
Until the world itself turned against her.
---
The ground shifted beneath her feet. The roots twisted unnaturally, tripping her, rising like fingers trying to pull her down. The mist curled tighter, cold and whispering, dragging along her skin like silk spun from broken promises.
"No," she hissed. "Not again."
But the realm obeyed him.
Not her.
And it wasn't done with her yet.
---
Then came the sound.
Boots. Calm. Measured.
She stopped walking.
The fog parted behind her — and there he was.
Kael.
No armor. No crown.
Just his eyes: blacker than night and harder than obsidian.
She didn't move.
She didn't speak.
Neither did he.
The wind fell still.
Then — she turned, slowly. Met his gaze.
"I told you," she said, voice hoarse, "I'm not going back."
His jaw tensed. "You don't have a choice."
---
"I'll die before I return to that cursed place," she snapped.
Kael stepped forward.
She backed up instinctively. "Don't—"
But he was already there.
She swung her fist — wild, desperate — and he caught her wrist mid-air. She kicked, screamed, shoved him back with every ounce of strength, but he moved like a glacier — cold, unstoppable.
"You bastard! I hate you!" she shrieked. "Let me go!"
But Kael's face didn't change. He didn't flinch.
He whispered a single word in the language of the underrealm.
And the chains came.
---
Shadow-bound silk snapped through the air — not iron, not visible to mortal eyes, but real enough to burn. They wrapped around her wrists and ankles, binding her magic, her body, her defiance.
Aelia screamed — not in pain, but fury.
"No! No, Kael, you don't get to do this!"
"You think I want to?" he growled, voice finally cracking.
"Then don't!" she cried. "Let me go! Let me choose!"
His silence said it all.
He didn't trust her to choose.
---
He reached down, lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She beat at his chest. She clawed at his shoulders.
"I'm not yours," she sobbed.
"I know," he whispered, and it hurt more than if he'd denied it.
---
✧
He carried her through the ruins.
Past the altar.
Past the cracked mirror.
Past the memories she hadn't asked for and the grief he refused to face.
All the way back to the edge of the realm — where the white trees ended, and the Hollow Palace rose in the distance like a haunted monument.
Aelia twisted in his arms, head pressed against his shoulder, cheeks wet with tears.
"I trusted you," she whispered.
He didn't answer.
"Was it all a lie?"
Still nothing.
She let her voice break. "Did you ever mean to care?"
Finally, Kael spoke.
> "No."
---
The word shattered what was left of her strength.
She stopped struggling.
Let him carry her.
Let herself break.
---
The gates opened for them — tall and silent and cold.
The Hollow Palace welcomed its master home.
But nothing about it felt like home.
The marble glowed under their feet, and the great hall echoed like a tomb. No servants moved. No guards dared look. Word had already spread:
The bride had run.
And the king had dragged her back.
---
He carried her to her chamber and set her on the bed like someone placing a weapon back in its sheath.
The chains disappeared with another word.
Aelia didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Her body curled into itself like a flame retreating from the wind.
Kael stood at the door.
His hand lingered on the handle.
Then her voice came, soft and raw:
> "I would've stayed."
He closed his eyes.
"But now," she said, "I'll never forgive you."
---
He didn't turn.
Didn't explain.
Didn't beg.
Because Kael didn't beg.
Even when he wanted to.
Even when he already knew — she was the one thing he couldn't afford to lose.
But he was losing her anyway.
So he left.
And behind the thick oak doors, Aelia screamed into her pillow — until her voice was gone.
---