Harry Winstor arrived the next day in his new heir's uniform—crisp, formal, silver embroidery gleaming.
His blue eyes were sharp, predatory. His silver hair perfectly styled. He entered the hall to find Alyster with the Sisters. By the window stood a figure with long white hair catching sunlight. His heart stopped.
Annabella. She turned. She'd lost weight, but remained breathtaking. Purple formal robes with her family's sigil.
Her expression carefully neutral. Her eyes colder than he remembered.
Alyster bowed. "Lord Winstor. Welcome."
Annabella sighed and bowed, eyes on the floor.
Harry couldn't look away. "I'm pleased to see your daughter returned safely."
Alyster took Annabella's hand and placed it in Harry's. "I'm sure you young lovers have much to discuss."
Annabella flinched—barely perceptible disgust.
Harry's grip tightened, fingers intertwining possessively. "You'll make me the happiest man alive if we arrange the wedding soon."
Alyster left, thinking Annabella just needed to play the grateful victim. The moment he was gone, Annabella yanked her hand free and walked away.
Harry blinked. "Annabella—"
"Don't."
He recovered, forcing a smile. "I'm happy you're alright.
The white hair suits you."
Silence.
"I hope we can put this behind us. Build a life together."
Nothing.
"I don't need to know what Reagan did while you were captive. I'll marry you regardless."
Annabella's hands came together in slow, deliberate applause.
"Bravo. I'm baffled by how good you are at lying."
Harry frowned. "What?"
Annabella's eyes glowed purple.
She raised her hand, magic swirling, projecting a memory into the air.
Arthur, alive, at the portal: "I'm not happy about you and Reagan. I don't approve. But I won't interfere. You can live your life with her. You deserve happiness."
Harry's expression darkened.
"Your brother was more of a man than you'll ever be."
"He was a fool. He didn't deserve you. But I'll forgive your... trespasses with Reagan."
"Oh, we're not done." Her smile was cruel. "Act two."
Another memory materialized. Reagan carrying dying Arthur. Annabella trying to heal him. Arthur's fading voice:
"Stop, Bella. Reagan is my sister. Mine and Harry's. Charles—our father—tried to have her killed during the final exam. Assassins. He wants her identity forgotten. She's born with both Life and Death magic."
Cough.
"I tried to protect her. But Harry—Harry stabbed me."
The memory faded. Harry stared, then threw his head back and laughed. Manic. Unhinged. "You have the evidence to save your mongrel lover. And it means nothing!"
He crossed the distance and pulled her into a possessive embrace, inhaling her scent, hands roaming. "I don't care about my father's plans. I don't care about House Winstor's ruin."
He pulled back to look at her. "The only reason I became heir was to claim you."
He dropped to his knees, gripping her waist, eyes fevered. "I've loved you forever, Annabella.Harrybear has always been there, but you never saw me. Never noticed."
His voice cracked. "I've worshipped everything about you. I'm still your Harrybear."
Annabella's expression remained ice.
"You can expose me. But it won't serve anyone. Reagan will still be hunted. And your father will have her killed anyway to preserve his house."
He leaned closer. "But if you marry me, I can protect her. Slow things down. Keep her alive."
His hands tightened. "I'd rather watch the world burn than live without you."
Annabella ran her hand through her hair, fury and calculation warring.
She'd been naive. Rea had warned her about Harry's obsession. Harry was a monster. But killing him would make Charles more desperate. Her eyes glowed brighter.
She placed her hand on his throat—commanding. Magic pulsed from her palm.
"I will marry you. Under specific conditions."
Harry smiled. "Anything."
"First—you never harm Reagan. You don't interfere with her life or any efforts to protect her. You work against your father's plans to kill her."
"Agreed."
"Second—you give me political freedom. You don't question my alliances or actions."
"Agreed."
"Third—"Her grip tightened.
"I bear you one child. One. After that, you never touch me again. Never come to my chambers. Never demand marital rights. We live as strangers."
"Agreed!"
"I bind this it to your magic and Your life."
"I swear—on my magic, my life—I agree to all terms."
Annabella leaned down and kissed him—pure binding magic.
Power flowed into him, wrapping around his words, sinking into bone, blood, soul. She pulled back and wiped her mouth like cleaning filth.
"If you break these terms, the spell kills you. Slowly. Your magic will eat you alive."Harry smiled, eyes glazed. "Worth it. I'm finally getting you."
The thought of bedding her once made him delirious. Annabella turned and walked away, robes sweeping. Harry knelt there, touching his lips, counting days until their wedding night.
Months later
Andrew found Annabella alone at a political gathering.
"How is she?" Annabella asked immediately.
"Training relentlessly in a Sagan village. Stronger than ever."Andrew paused. "Pushing herself to exhaustion daily."
Annabella's shoulders sagged with relief. "Good."
They watched Harry across the room, standing beside Charles like the perfect heir. "Are you really going to marry him?"
Andrew asked quietly.
"I don't have another option."
"You do."Andrew's voice was tight. "Marry me instead. On paper only. I wouldn't touch you. But it would—"
"My father would never allow it," Annabella cut him off gently. "He has too much to gain from my marriage to Harry."
"When is the wedding?"
"A month." Andrew looked stricken. "Rea won't take this well."
"Then don't tell her." Annabella's voice was sharp. "Let her focus on training. On staying alive."
"This is going to destroy her. She might never forgive you. Or even recover from this"
Annabella said nothing.
Later, Andrew met Lyz at a tavern.
"George's location is a fortress,"Lyz reported. "High Priestess wards everywhere. The only time he'll be vulnerable is at Annabella's wedding—he has to bless any marriage in his house, even under house arrest."
"So that's our window."
"Annabella designed the extraction plan herself," Lyz said coldly. "But only for George. Nothing for her own escape."
Andrew's blood ran cold. "She's really going through with it."