Jeremiah lingers by the cabin's entrance, awkward and silent. I'd rushed here thinking it was Void, only to find him instead. For three days, this so-called king has abandoned me—left me to starve, surviving on nothing but water and stale bread.
I thought we'd come to some kind of understanding. Foolish of me. A few nights of his tongue between my thighs was never going to change what he is.
I sink into the couch, feeling defeated. I haven't bothered to make myself look presentable. My red hair is a wild bush, and I've been recycling the same two outfits since I arrived. I haven't dared leave the cabin—the forest outside feels alive with things I can't name, things that might devour me whole.
"You reek of him," Jeremiah says flatly. Heat floods my cheeks. He thrusts a dress into my hands—a white, flowy summer thing sprinkled with tiny blue flowers. It looks short, probably mid-thigh.
"It's my wife's. I don't have anything of Void's, and you definitely can't wear mine."
I roll my eyes. Why would I ever want to wear his dull brown two-piece suit?
Clutching the dress, I retreat into the room. It smells like him—Void. My chest tightens. Part of me aches to go find him, but another part is relieved he's gone. For once, I can breathe without his shadow pressing down on me and feeding into this forced bond between us.
I slip into the dress with my sneakers and catch my reflection—I look sixteen again. It clings to my chest before flaring loose around my hips, too pretty for the mood I'm in. I drag a brush through my hair, clumsy without Rain's hands to guide me. My chest tightens again, harder this time, and despair slams into me like a brick wall.
Rain… please be safe. Please be comfortable.
I step out of the room and find Jeremiah waiting in the hallway. He gestures for me to move, and I follow.
When I step outside the cabin, the sunlight washes over me. Warmth seeps into my skin, and the air feels like a gentle embrace. For the first time in days, I smile.
It's almost childlike—like those stolen spring afternoons in kindergarten, when my teacher kept me in during lunch for bad behavior and I'd press my face against the glass, aching for freedom. That's what this feels like. Spring. A second chance at breathing.
But my quiet moment of peace shatters at the sound of Jeremiah's voice.
"Your Grace."
Your Grace, my ass. I'm nothing to that foolish king of his.
"The king has assigned you a personal guard," Jeremiah adds. "Meet Milo."
I glance toward the car and immediately arch a brow. Personal guard? He looks a little too good-looking for that title.
Sun-bronzed skin, dark eyes, darker hair—he could've stepped out of an Italian romance novel, if not for the buzz cut. He's tall and lean, but there's no mistaking the muscle straining beneath his clothes.
His eyes meet mine, soft and steady. Then he smiles—gentle, disarming.
"My queen," he murmurs, bowing as he takes my hand. His lips brush against my skin, warm, lingering.
I yank my hand back instantly, heart skipping. That felt… strange. Did he just sniff me?
"The queen isn't accustomed to our behavior," Jeremiah mutters. "Please, don't scare her too much."
Milo dips his head, murmurs an apology, and drifts back toward the car.
"You didn't sniff me," I blurt at Jeremiah.
He whips his head toward me, irritation plain on his face.
"You are Void's bride," he snaps. "You need to familiarize yourself with our customs. When we meet someone new, we sniff them. It's how we recognize one another. How we build familiarity."
I blink at him. So… exchanging names isn't enough for them?
He guides me to the car, and I can't help but glance at Milo. He's definitely my type. I won't deny it; I wonder if Void would be upset if I attempted—nevermind, I can already see that leading to my death.
"I'm going to teach you and your little friend some of my ways. I'm not too eager to do it, but Void requested this, and there's no better teacher than me," he says, tooting his own horn.
"Friend?"
"Yes, Rain."
I smile and immediately hug him. Tears prick at my eyes, and I start purring on purpose, one of the things i learned I can do It's how cats show positive emotions so I hope he understands me, but Jeremiah pushes me away.
"We don't do that in public," he says, visibly shocked and embarrassed.
I mumble an apology and step back, keeping my distance.
The car moves through the city of Leperd, and the morning light transforms it entirely. At night, the city glitters like a diamond, but now, in the bright daylight, it gleams like polished gold. Towering buildings catch the sun, their glass facades reflecting the bustle below. Streets hum with life—people hurrying, vendors calling out, cars weaving through traffic. Beyond the urban sprawl, the desert stretches endlessly, golden dunes curling and rolling like liquid sand, the sun beating down, and a hot wind carrying a faint, earthy scent. The desert and the city blur together in a strange harmony, a reminder of the world outside Void's shadowed realm.
We arrive at a massive building, its exterior painted in deep, rich brown. The facade glistens in the sunlight, intricate patterns catching the eye, while its smooth surfaces feel almost like silk. Inside, the elevator hums softly as it carries us up, and the hallway opens into a serene, quiet space. The polished floors reflect the soft light from the overhead lamps, guiding our steps toward a large, imposing brown door.
My heart races as Rain's familiar scent fills my nostrils. I sprint down the hall, following her voice until I reach the door. Without thinking, I fling it open.
"Rain!" I shout.
"Rose!"
We run into each other, bodies colliding, and break down into tears, murmuring over and over how much we missed each other.
"You smell like a man," I tease through my tears.
She chuckles. "And you're getting married, and you didn't tell me about it?"
I frown. "It's nothing serious, it's just talk. Void said he was just doing that to—"
Rain cuts me off, leading me to the large window. I look up, and my stomach drops.
Above the city, a holographic banner floats in the sky, displaying a picture of me and Void kissing. The caption blazes across the light:
Wedding in 10 Days.
I fight the urge to throw up what little I've eaten.
I'm trapped here, aren't I?