She trembled, her hand still shackled by the binding shadows. His eyes, burning with desperate hope, locked on hers.
"If you choose me," he whispered, voice echoing like a decree through the temple, "we will never be parted again. Not in this world, nor the next."
Tears streaked her cheeks. She knew this choice was no longer about love alone—it was a pact with something beyond life, beyond death. A chain that once bound could never be broken.
"I…" her voice shook, breath ragged, "…I don't want to lose you again."
His eyes lit up, a smile breaking across his face—gentle, yet shadowed with possession. His hand cradled her face, lips brushing close to hers, as he whispered:
"Then swear it. Swear to the shadows. Be mine until death tears us apart—and even death shall fail."
At once, the darkness surged. Shadows carved a circle across the stone floor, runes glowing faintly in crimson light. Thousands of voices rose in anguish, a cacophony of spirits screaming against the oath that was about to be spoken.
If she gave her answer now, her fate would be bound to his—forever entangled in the abyss.