"Some bonds are not forged by choice, nor broken by fear; they are lived, breathed, and burned into the soul until two become one."
The castle had gone quiet after dinner. The laughter, the teasing, the flicker of lanterns in the gardens still echoed faintly in my chest like a melody that refused to fade. Yet now, as I walked the winding halls beside Alaric, the warmth of that gathering folded into something sharper, heavier. My heartbeat stumbled and stuttered, as if my chest had not quite figured out whether to relax or panic.
Alaric did not speak, but I felt the weight of his presence like a cloak draped across my shoulders. His stride was steady, purposeful, each step ringing against the stone floors, his shoulders squared with the authority of a king. And still, when his hand brushed against mine barely, fleeting it was not the Northern Kingdom's Alpha King I felt at my side, but simply Alaric.
