Let's get one thing straight, I didn't plan to trigger an ancient matchmaking bond and definitely did not want to be bonded to a feral shadow prince.
I was just trying to do my job: break magical Contracts, free the people and stick it to the gods. But fate? Fate's a clingy jerk with a bad sense of humor.
Let's rewind a bit.
Okay, deep breaths, Zahara. Deep, shaky, "please don't get caught dismantling an ancient, god-tier magical contract tonight" breaths. Seriously, of all the Tuesday nights.
Or maybe it's Wednesday? Time kind of blurs when you're a rogue mage branded as a "heretic" for having the sheer audacity to think magical systems shouldn't actively suck the life out of people. My bad, I guess?
My name's Zahara, by the way. Or Zahara 'The Chainbreaker,' if you're feeling dramatic – which, let's be honest, this world is all about drama. My special skill? I can see the magical contracts that basically run everything in this fractured realm.
Think of them like magical rulebooks enforced by ridiculously powerful (and probably corrupt) godly beings. And my hobby? Well, that would be breaking them. Not exactly a popular pastime, especially when the guys who made the rules live in giant, shiny temples.
Which brings me to tonight. Where am I? Oh, you know, just chilling inside the Temple of Contracts. Your friendly neighborhood eccentric temple where they keep all the fun stuff, like the Contract of Perpetual Tithe for the village of Oakhaven. Charming name, right? Not so charming when it means every single bit of their harvest, their magic, their joy, gets siphoned off to keep this ridiculously opulent place sparkling. Gross.
My power, this ability to see and break Contracts, it's… intense. It's not like waving a wand or chanting pretty words. It feels like reaching into the very fabric of reality, finding the magical stitching holding a Contract together, and just… snip. Only the 'snip' part feels more like tearing concrete with your bare hands. And it leaves its mark literally.
See these glowing cracks crawling up my arms? Yeah, those are the side effects. Every Contract I break etches itself onto my soul, and it shows on my skin. Looks cool, I guess, like some kind of cosmic tattoo, but it burns like hell. A constant reminder that every act of rebellion, every person I free from these chains, costs a piece of me. Fun times.
Tonight's target is a big one, at least for a village like Oakhaven. The Perpetual Tithe is housed in a crystalline orb nestled deep within the Temple archives. Getting here was… an adventure. Lots of sneaking past grumpy temple guards with way too much armor and even more self-importance. Seriously, get a hobby, guys. Your devotion to magical bureaucracy is showing.
My heart is doing a little jiggle against my ribs. Not from fear, exactly. More like anticipation? And maybe a tiny bit of dread. Breaking Contracts is dangerous, not just because of the backlash, but because it attracts attention. Unwanted attention. Like the kind that wears shadowy cloaks and hunts people like me across the continent.
Okay, focus, Zahara. The orb is just ahead. It pulses with a sickly golden light, greed made manifest. I can see the countless threads of magic connecting it to Oakhaven, thin, shimmering leashes pulling the life force out of the land. It's disgusting.
My hands… they're already starting to glow. The cracks on my skin deepen, light pouring out like molten gold. It's the power stirring, recognizing the target. It wants to break this chain. It's a hunger I rarely suppress.
I reach out, my fingers brushing against the cold surface of the orb. The threads are visible to me, thickest right at the source. This is it. Time to perform unauthorized magical surgery.
The moment my power connects, it's like hitting a magical brick wall. This isn't just a simple village Contract. It's tied into something older, something bigger. A deep, resonant hum fills the air, rattling my teeth. The Temple structure groans around me.
This is… unexpected. Usually, it's just a clean break, a satisfying snip. This feels like trying to unravel a knot tied by a god having a really bad day.
I push harder, channeling the raw energy that lets me unmake these systems. My scars scream, the light from them blindingly bright now. The threads of the Contract don't just snap – they recoil, whipping back like struck nerves.
And then it happens.
It's not just the Contract breaking. It's like the force I used while breaking it ripped a hole in something else. A searing, strange energy slams into me. Not like backlash, but… a connection. A magical anchor point slams into my very soul, a jolt that leaves me breathless and disoriented.
CRACK!
The orb doesn't shatter. It implodes, sucking the golden light inward before winking out of existence. Silence falls, heavy and unnatural.
Then, the groaning of the Temple becomes a roar. Dust rains from the ceiling. My eyes widen as the temple starts coming down. Okay, accidental architectural demolition was NOT on the agenda.
"Run!" I yell, although there's no one to hear me. I turn, run back the way I came, the sound of collapsing stone and screaming guards echoing behind me. 'So much for a clean getaway.'
I burst out of the archives and into a grand hallway, ignoring the priceless tapestries catching fire. The air is thick with dust and the smell of ozone. 'I need to get out now.'
Just as I reach a massive marble archway leading outside, a figure appears, blocking my path.
He's tall. Like, unfairly tall. Dressed in dark, practical armor that somehow still manages to look ridiculously expensive. A long, shadowed cloak billows around him. And his face… sharp angles, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth, and eyes the color of a storm just before it breaks. Brooding? Yeah, that about covers it. This guy practically emits an aura of 'leave me alone or I'll make it hurt.'
Oh, what a joy. The guy who's been hunting me. The Prince. Kaelen Vostra.
Rumor has it he's cursed. Something about turning into a monster when he gets emotional. Honestly, given the perpetually stormy look on his face, I'm surprised he hasn't just gone full beast mode permanently. Probably just needs a really bad Tuesday.
He takes a step towards me, his movements predatory, silent despite the chaos. "The Chainbreaker," his voice is low, rough, like gravel shifting. Not exactly friendly. "Took you long enough to show your face in the capital."
My heart, already overworked, leaps into my throat. This was not how I envisioned the night ending. I was supposed to be halfway to Oakhaven by now, checking on the villagers.
"Prince Kaelen," I manage, trying to keep my voice steady. My scars are still glowing, the strange new magical anchor-point pulsing faintly in my chest. It's… weird. Like I suddenly have a new, unwanted organ made of pure magic.
"Lovely weather for a Temple collapse, isn't it?" Okay, maybe not my smoothest opening line. The laid-back humor isn't really landing when the roof is falling on our heads.
He ignores the sarcasm, eyes narrowed on me. Or maybe on my glowing scars? "You'll fix my curse," he states, not a question.
Right. About that. Apparently, my ability to break magical systems is supposed to be a miracle cure for his monstrous little problem. As if. Curse-breaking is complicated. Messy. And I'm not exactly running a charity for magically afflicted royalty. Especially not the ones who want to use my power for their own shady purposes.
"Your curse is your problem, Your Royal Broodiness," I shoot back instinctively. Vulnerability is a weakness. Love is a weakness. Getting involved with a guy who turns into a monster when he feels things? Probably triple major weakness points. My mother taught me that lesson the hard way.
He takes another step, closing the distance, a coldness radiating off him. "You triggered something here tonight," he says, his gaze fixed on my chest, right where that new magical jolt is emanating from. "I felt it."
Felt what? The system trigger? Did he… get hit by it too? No, that's impossible. The Fated Bond System – yeah, I know a little about it, saw some texts in the Temple archives years ago before I went rogue. It was rumored to bind two souls. It required a specific ritual or chaotic magical catalyst. Like, maybe, say, me tearing apart an ancient, god-tier Contract with excessive force?
My blood runs cold. Please, no. Please don't let me be magically chained to the brooding prince who wants to use me as his personal curse-removing tool.
His hand reaches out, not towards my face in a dramatic villain movie (though he totally has the look for it), but towards my chest. Towards that weird new magical anchor.
"What is this?" he demands, his voice losing its cold control, replaced by something akin to… confusion? Annoyance? Maybe a hint of fear? Hard to tell with all the brooding.
Just as his fingers are about to touch me, that strange magical anchor in my chest spikes. It's not painful, not like the scars. It's a weird, pulling sensation, like being physically tethered to him by an invisible rope. A jolt of raw magic flows between us.
And then, the system. It's not just a feeling this time. It's a presence, a voice inside my head, cold and clear, cutting through the roar of the collapsing building.
____
[SYSTEM ALERT: Bond Partner Located.]
[Bond Partner Identified: Kaelen Vostra.]
[Bond Status: Active.]
____
No. Nonononono. This isn't happening. Of all the people, OF ALL THE CONTRACTS, I had to get bound to the guy who literally hunts me? The prince who embodies everything I avoid?
My eyes snap up to his, wide with disbelief and something close to horror. His stormy gaze is fixed on mine, equally wide, reflecting the same realization. He felt it too. The magical leash. The system.
The ground shakes violently. More of the Temple collapses around us. We should be running. We should be fighting. But we're frozen, staring at each other, the invisible magical thread vibrating between us.
The system speaks again, the text flashing not just in my mind, but appearing as a shimmering golden script hologram in the dust-filled air between us.
___
[Fated Bond System Initiated.]
[Objective: Level Bond to 100.]
[Failure To Comply Will Result In Penalties.]
___
"What... what is this?" Kaelen's voice is a strangled whisper, the snarl on his face replaced by utter shock.
I can only stare, my own voice caught in my throat. My scars are glowing, his eyes are wide, and the building is coming down.
And the system, with its utterly unhelpful, soul-binding agenda, floats one last line of text between us, sealing our fate in the most ridiculously dramatic, utterly inconvenient way possible.
___
[Bond Partner Located: Kaelen Vostra.]
___
Okay, now I'm panicking.