> "Some kings are crowned. Others are collared—and worship it."
---
The stars had never looked so close.
They pulsed above them—red and violet and white—like a thousand eyes watching from behind heaven's veil. Dominic lay still in the hollow of the hill, staring upward, Lyra's fingers absently combing through his hair. He was silent, though his heart thundered with everything he hadn't yet said.
"You're warm," he murmured at last.
Lyra glanced down at him, a small smirk curling her lips. "You say that like you expected me to be cold."
"You used to be." He turned his head just enough to meet her gaze. "Or maybe I just didn't know how to feel it."
"You weren't ready to feel it."
Dominic propped himself up on one elbow. The silver collar around his neck pulsed with magic, but it no longer restrained him—it breathed with him, alive, feeding off the bond that only seemed to deepen the longer they stayed tethered.
"I'm ready now," he said. "For all of it."
She raised a brow. "Even the gods?"
"Even you."
The way he said it—low, reverent, full of mischief—made something in Lyra coil tight with want. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulled him up into her lap, and kissed him like the moon would never rise again.
---
They made love under the stars. Fierce. Deep. Endless.
Her magic lit the air, tracing his skin with glowing sigils. His hands roamed her body like a starving man learning to breathe again. The magic between them flared with every kiss, every cry, every gasp. When he came undone in her arms, she whispered a spell into his lips—and for a moment, time itself bent.
---
Later, when their bodies were still entangled and the fire had burned to coals, Lyra stirred.
"There's something I need to show you."
Dominic blinked sleep from his eyes. "Now?"
She didn't answer. She stood, wrapping her obsidian robe around her like wings, and motioned for him to follow.
They walked into the forest—barefoot, half-dressed, bonded by magic and lust and fate. The trees parted for her. The wind stilled. Even the moon seemed to dim as they passed beneath ancient boughs.
Eventually, they reached it.
A stone door, buried into the earth, surrounded by roots and marked with blood-red runes.
Dominic stepped closer. "What is this?"
Lyra stared at the door. Her expression unreadable.
"My heart."
---
The door opened without a touch. Inside was no room. No stairs. Just a chamber of violet crystal, pulsing with memory. Dominic stepped inside—and saw everything.
Lyra's childhood in a realm where witches ruled. Her fall from power. Her betrayal. The prince from his bloodline who had bound her with false love and cursed her with a kiss meant to kill. He saw her chained, beaten, left in a realm where time didn't move. Alone. Forgotten. Until the curse broke.
And then—he saw himself. Not as he was now. But as he had been. The cold CEO. The cruel strategist. The man who took power without ever giving it.
He staggered back.
"Why show me this?"
Lyra stepped forward. "Because you're part of it now."
His breath trembled. "I didn't choose this at first."
"You chose me. Eventually. That's what matters."
He turned to face her. The silver collar glowed. "And if I walk away?"
She smiled sadly. "You won't."
---
They returned to camp. But the silence between them now was heavier.
Dominic lay awake, staring at the collar's reflection in his blade. He wasn't afraid of it anymore. But he was beginning to understand the depth of it. The power. The danger. And the weight.
He was no longer just a man.
He was her anchor.
Her blade.
Her breaking point.
---
By morning, they weren't alone.
The stranger arrived at dawn. She rode a beast of bone and smoke, wrapped in gold-threaded robes, her face hidden behind a white mask shaped like a smiling skull. Her aura burned.
Lyra stood instantly. "Stay behind me."
Dominic didn't.
The woman dismounted, lowering her hood. Her skin was black glass. Her eyes were fire. Her voice was silk dipped in venom.
"Sister."
Dominic froze.
Lyra's jaw tensed. "Veyra."
"You've been busy," the masked woman purred. "Breaking rules. Binding cursed blood. Tearing down temples."
"I should've killed you when I had the chance."
"And yet," Veyra said, tilting her head, "here I stand."
Dominic stepped forward. "Who are you?"
She turned her gaze on him. "The one who taught her how to bind souls."
Lyra's hand burst into flames. "Leave."
Veyra laughed. "I didn't come to fight. I came to offer… balance. You've awoken the gods, sister. You think they'll let your toy live? You think they'll let your bond last?"
"We'll survive."
"No," Veyra whispered. "You'll burn. Unless…"
Lyra narrowed her eyes. "Unless what?"
Veyra smiled.
"Unless you let me take him."
---
The air shifted.
Dominic's body reacted before his mind did. He stepped closer to Lyra, chest bare, sword drawn. "Not a chance."
Veyra shrugged. "He'll be safe with me. Tucked away in a mirror realm where the gods can't reach him. You stay here. Fight your war. Die in peace."
"No," Lyra said. "You just want to hurt me."
Veyra didn't deny it. "I was your lover before you betrayed me."
Dominic blinked. "Wait—what?"
Lyra's magic crackled dangerously. "Don't."
"Oh, he doesn't know?" Veyra turned to him, sweet and deadly. "Did she tell you how she broke me for her throne? How I gave her everything and she left me to rot in the Obsidian Courts?"
Lyra growled. "Enough."
Dominic stepped between them. "Why are you really here?"
Veyra's voice dropped.
"Because the gods are coming. Because they hate broken curses. And because your bond is growing too fast. It's drawing things… older than time."
She pointed to the collar.
"That's not a symbol. That's a beacon."
Lyra paled.
Dominic glanced between them. "Is that true?"
Lyra didn't answer.
Veyra smiled.
"I'll give you three days," she said. "Then I return. And if you haven't unbound him…"
Her mask shifted. Her voice became something monstrous.
"I'll do it for you."
Then she vanished into smoke.
---
The forest fell still.
Lyra collapsed onto a stone, face in her hands.
"You didn't tell me you had a lover," Dominic said, voice quiet.
"I didn't want to relive it."
He sat beside her. "Is she telling the truth?"
Lyra looked at him, eyes burning.
"She was mine. I was hers. And I broke her."
"Why?"
"Because I thought I had to."
Dominic nodded slowly.
"I'm not afraid of her."
"You should be."
"I'm only afraid of losing you."
Her breath hitched.
She touched his face gently.
"You'll never lose me," she whispered. "But I might lose myself."
He pulled her close. "Then we fight together."
---
That night, Dominic couldn't sleep.
He stood outside the tent, eyes turned to the sky. The stars were gone now. Replaced by strange black shapes that twisted unnaturally, like ink in water. The collar around his neck hummed louder.
He turned to Lyra. "I can feel them."
She nodded. "They're watching."
"What do they want?"
She didn't answer.
But the ground trembled.
And a voice—not human, not mortal—echoed through the night.
"THE CURSE WAS OURS. YOU TOOK WHAT WE OWN."
Dominic dropped to his knees, clutching his head.
Lyra screamed an incantation.
A shield erupted around him.
But the voice laughed.
"YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM US."
Then silence.
Lyra ran to him, gripping his face. "Are you hurt?"
He looked at her, shaken. "They're coming."
---
In the days that followed, everything darkened.
The skies never cleared. The winds carried whispers. Animals fled. The world itself seemed to bend under the weight of ancient eyes.
Lyra began preparing a ritual. One that could hide Dominic—at least temporarily—from divine sight.
"You'll be safe," she said, painting runes on his chest. "But I won't."
He caught her hand. "Then I won't do it."
"You have to."
"No." His voice hardened. "We fight together. You said it."
She turned away, fighting tears.
"This isn't a boardroom," she said. "You don't get to win with words."
"No," he replied. "I win with you."
She looked at him then—truly looked.
And in his eyes, she saw not the cursed blood. Not the billionaire. Not the man who once controlled empires.
But the one man who had ever chosen her after knowing the truth.
So she kissed him.
And the collar blazed.
---
On the third day, Veyra returned.
But this time, she didn't come alone.
She brought the gods.