The hall fell into a grave suffocating silence.
"The Grand Duke of Ravenmere…" the Crown Duke Prince repeated slowly, his voice low and trembling with fury. "How dare he…"
Vincent stepped forward, his expression dark. "We can't act recklessly. The Grand Duke isn't someone we can simply threaten. He's powerful… and feared."
The Crown Duke Prince turned sharply toward him, eyes blazing. "I don't care how powerful he is," he snapped. "Cecil is mine. No one else has the right to keep him."
The priests remained kneeling, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Vincent crossed his arms, thinking quickly. "If we attack openly, it will start a war," he said coldly. "But if we go quietly… under the excuse of diplomacy…"
A slow, dangerous smile spread across the Crown Duke Prince's face. "Yes," he murmured. "A visit."
His eyes darkened with obsession. "I will go to Ravenmere myself."
The temperature in the hall seemed to drop.
"And if the Grand Duke refuses to hand him over…" he added softly, almost calmly, "then I will burn Ravenmere to the ground."
Vincent's lips curved slightly, though his eyes remained calculating. "Then we should prepare immediately."
---
At the Grand Duke's palace, the air felt heavy and charged.
Before Cecil could react, the Grand Duke pushed him gently but firmly against the bed, pinning him down. Cecil's wrists were trapped above his head, his breathing uneven as shock flashed across his face.
"Let go of me!" Cecil protested, struggling beneath him.
But the Grand Duke only leaned closer, his gaze dark and unwavering.
Without another word, he captured Cecil's lips in a deep, possessive kiss. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't hesitant. It was filled with claim and intention.
Cecil's eyes widened, his heart pounding violently in his chest.
The Grand Duke broke the kiss only to trail his lips down to the side of Cecil's neck. Then—he bit down firmly at the back of his neck.
Cecil gasped sharply as a strange warmth spread through his body.
When the Grand Duke pulled away, a faint glowing mark remained on Cecil's skin — a dark symbol etched like a crest, pulsing softly before fading into his flesh.
Cecil trembled. "What… what did you do to me?"
The Grand Duke brushed his thumb lightly over the marked spot, a satisfied glint in his eyes.
"Now," he said quietly, "no matter where you run… I will always find you."
---
Cecil lay still for a moment, his fingers slowly rising to touch the back of his neck.
The skin there felt warm. A faint pulse traveled through his body. His eyes widened.
The mark wasn't just a symbol. It was like, it was alive.
Suddenly, a thin thread of energy tugged at his chest — subtle, but unmistakable. It felt like something was pulling at him from afar, like a chain made of magic.
"You marked me…" Cecil whispered, horror creeping into his voice.
The Grand Duke stood near the window, calm as ever. "Of course," he replied smoothly. "Did you think I would let you slip away again?"
Cecil clenched his fists. "You tied me to you."
The Grand Duke's lips curved slightly. "Not tied," he corrected. "Connected."
---
Outside the palace, far beyond Ravenmere's walls, the priests once again formed a foundation circle. Their faces were pale from the previous ritual, but they dared not refuse another order.
Sacred lines were drawn. Candles were lit. The chanting began again — weaker, strained, but determined.
Back at the main gates of Ravenmere, a royal carriage bearing the Crest of the Crown Duke arrived.
The Crown Duke Prince stepped out, eyes cold and burning with possessive fury.
"Announce me," he ordered.
A Ravenmere guard bowed stiffly before entering the palace to deliver the message.
Moments later, inside the chamber, a servant knelt before the Grand Duke.
"Your Grace," the servant said carefully, "the Crown Duke Prince has arrived. He requests an audience."
Cecil's heart skipped violently.
The Grand Duke did not look surprised.
Instead, he smiled. "Let him in," he said softly.
---
Cecil's thoughts began to race wildly. I-I need to run… I can't let him get me. Not again…
His breathing quickened, panic tightening around his chest like a vice. The mark on the back of his neck pulsed faintly, as if reacting to his fear.
God… please help me, he prayed silently, his fingers trembling at his sides.
He could feel it — the Crown Duke Prince was near. That obsessive presence, that suffocating energy, was getting closer.
Cecil took a slow step back. "I have to leave," he whispered to himself. "Before they both trap me."
Across the room, the Grand Duke watched him carefully, eyes sharp and knowing.
"You're thinking of running again," he said calmly.
Cecil froze, the pull in his chest tightened.
And somewhere beyond the palace walls, footsteps echoed through the halls.
The Crown Duke Prince had arrived.
---
To be continued…