KIERAN'S POV:
I can't sleep.
Not because of the bed—it's the softest thing I've ever touched, like sleeping on clouds made of silk and expensive regrets.
Not because of the room—it's beautiful in a dark, gothic way that should feel like a fairy tale.
I can't sleep because my chest hurts.
Not emotionally—though that's true too—but physically. Like something is pulling from the inside, tugging at my ribs, trying to drag me somewhere I don't want to go.
The bond.
It's been hours since Ravion left. Hours of me curled up in this massive bed, trying to ignore the way my body keeps turning toward the door like a compass pointing north.
Toward him.
I press my hand to my chest, where the magic sealed us together. The skin is warm—too warm—and underneath I can feel it: that thread connecting me to Ravion, humming like a live wire.
It wants him near.
My body wants him near.
I don't want him near.
At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
But the ache is getting worse. Spreading from my chest to my limbs, settling in my bones like a fever. My skin feels too tight. My breath comes too fast.
"Fuck," I whisper into the darkness.
This is insane.
I was kidnapped. Forced into marriage. Bound by magic I don't understand to a man who terrifies me.
And now my own body is betraying me.
I throw off the blankets, pacing the room like a caged animal. Maybe moving will help. Maybe if I just—
The door opens.
I freeze.
Ravion stands in the doorway, backlit by candlelight from the corridor. He's changed—no longer in royal regalia. Just loose black pants slung low on his hips and nothing else.
His pale chest is marked with dark symbols—tattoos or scars, I can't tell—that seem to move in the flickering light. His jet-black hair falls loose around his shoulders. Those blood-red eyes find me across the room and glow.
"You're in pain," he says. Not a question.
"I'm fine."
"Liar." He steps inside, closing the door behind him. "The bond—it hurts when we're apart. Especially this soon after the binding."
"I don't care. Go away."
"I tried." His jaw tightens. "I spent the last three hours in my chambers, trying to give you space. But the bond..." He presses a hand to his own chest. "It demands proximity. The longer I stay away, the worse it gets. For both of us."
I want to argue. Want to tell him to leave.
But he's right.
The moment he entered the room, the ache in my chest eased. Not gone—but better. Like I can finally breathe properly again.
I hate it.
"This is insane," I mutter.
"Welcome to blood magic." He moves closer—slow, like approaching a wild animal. "It doesn't care what we want. Only what it needs." He stops a few feet away. "And right now, it needs us together."
RAVION'S POV:
He looks terrified.
Standing there in the sleep clothes I gave him—black silk that hangs loose on his frame, making him look younger. His brown hair is messy from tossing and turning. Those warm amber eyes are wide, reflecting candlelight and fear.
He's beautiful.
I noticed it during the wedding, of course. Noticed the way the ceremony clothes fit him, the curve of his neck when I removed the veil, the softness of his lips during that brief, chaste kiss..
But this is different.
This is him in my chambers—our chambers now—at night, wearing clothes I chose, smelling like the soap my servants used, looking at me like I'm both salvation and damnation.
The bond roars in my chest.
it says. Keep him, Never let go.
I've had many things in my long, cursed life. Power. Kingdoms. Fear.
But I've never had someone like this.
gods help me, I want it.
Not just because of the prophecy. Not just because I thought he was Kaelis.
Because he's fascinating.
This boy from another time who fell through a portal and landed in my world. Who fought me even knowing it was hopeless. Who cried at our wedding but still said the vows. Who looks at me with fear and fury and something else he won't admit.
I can feel it through the bond. Faint, buried under layers of fear and anger, but there.
His body wants me even if his mind doesn't.
The bond is doing its work.
"I'll sleep on the floor," I offer, even though every instinct screams to climb into that bed and never leave. "The bond just needs proximity. We don't have to—"
"You're the king." His voice is sharp. "You have a giant bed. Don't be stupid."
I almost smile. Still has fire, even terrified.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Too late." He laughs—bitter. "You kidnapped me, married me, and bound me with blood magic. I think 'comfortable' left the building."
"Fair point."
We stand there in tense silence.
Then Kieran sighs—exhausted, —and climbs back into bed. Stays on the far edge, as far from the center as possible.
"Just..." He doesn't look at me. "Just stay on your side. Don't—don't touch me."
"Of course." I move to the other side, sliding under the blankets. The bed is massive, but I can still feel his warmth, his presence.
The bond hums with satisfaction.
Finally close.
I should let him sleep.
Should close my eyes, keep to my side, respect the boundaries he's set.
But the bond is hungry.
And I've been cursed for so long, starved for connection, that having him here—in my bed, bound to me, —is intoxicating.
"Kieran," I say quietly.
"Don't." His voice is muffled by the pillow. "Just... don't."
"The bond will ease faster if we're closer."
"We're in the same bed. How much closer do you want?"
"Touching helps."
"No."
I should stop. Should respect that.
But then he shivers.
Not from cold—the fire is blazing. From the bond. It's still pulling & aching, because we're close but not close enough.
"You're still in pain," I observe.
"I'm fine."
"You're shaking."
"Fuck off, Ravion."
I roll onto my side, facing him. He's curled up, back to me, shoulders tense.
"I can help," I say softly.
"You've helped enough."
"Kieran." I reach out—slowly, —and rest my hand on his shoulder.
He flinches.
But doesn't pull away.
The bond sings.
"See?" I murmur. "Better."
And it is. I can feel it through our connection—his pain easing, his body relaxing despite his mind's protests.
"This is wrong," he whispers.
"I know."
"I don't want this."
"I know that too."
"Then why—"
"Because the bond doesn't care what we want." My thumb traces slow circles on his shoulder through the silk. "It only cares that we're together."
KIERAN'S POV:
His hand on my shoulder feels like fire.
Not burning. Just... intense. Every point of contact sends heat racing through my body, and the ache in my chest finally, finally eases.
I hate that it works.
Hate that my body betrays me like this.
Hate that part of me wants to lean back into his touch instead of pull away.
"I hate you," I whisper.
"I know." His voice is closer now. When did he move closer? "You can hate me all you want. It won't change the bond."
"It should."
"Many things should be different." His hand slides down from my shoulder to my waist—gentle, "But they're not."
I should push him away.
Should scream or fight.
But I'm so tired.
And it feels so good to not hurt anymore.
"Just..." My voice cracks. "Just don't—don't take advantage. Please."
His hand stills.
"I won't." He says it with such certainty that I almost believe him. "I'm many things, Kieran. Monster. Cursed king. Your captor." His breath is warm against the back of my neck. "But I'm not a rapist. Nothing happens unless you want it."
"I don't want it."
"Then nothing happens."
He pulls me back against his chest—not roughly, just... firmly. Like he needs the contact as much as I do.
And gods help me, it feels right.
His body is cool against mine. Not ice-cold, just... less warm than human. It should be unsettling.
Instead, it's soothing.
The bond purrs between us.
"Sleep," Ravion murmurs against my hair. "We'll fight about everything else in the morning."
"I still hate you."
"Good." I can hear the smile in his voice. "It'll make it more interesting when you stop."
"I won't stop."
"We'll see."
His arm tightens around my waist— possessively.
And despite everything—the kidnapping, the forced marriage, the violation of every choice I should have had—
I fall asleep in the Dark King's arms...