I believed I was a great king.
I ruled Bolivé with discipline and care, guiding my people through years of harmony and quiet prosperity. We lived modestly. We supported one another. We avoided conflict whenever possible and chose peace over pride. My people were gentle, domestic, and united—and I was proud of that.
From a young age, my heart belonged to Kowra.
I chose her as my future queen, my destined mate. I courted her faithfully, fulfilled every wish she voiced, and gave her my devotion without doubt or hesitation. We were happy—or so I believed. I trusted what we had with complete certainty.
Until the day everything shattered.
I followed her into the grasslands and the wooden forest, careful not to be seen. She didn't notice me—not once. Something about her movements felt wrong. Unnatural. She wasn't herself.
She was bewitched.
Before my eyes, she surrendered herself to another beast in an act so raw and defiling it stole the air from my lungs. My heart cracked open. My soul fractured.
How could she betray my trust so easily? My love?
I froze. The light in my eyes dimmed. My belief in loyalty, in righteousness, collapsed.
When she finally noticed me, she said something—words I couldn't hear over the roaring in my head. Her eyes glistened, filled with something like regret or fear.
Before I could reach her, the beast struck.
She died in front of me.
In that moment, my world turned to ash. My pride was obliterated. My purpose vanished.
What kind of king cannot even protect the one closest to his heart? If I failed her, how could I ever protect my kingdom?
So I ran.
I abandoned my throne, my people, my responsibilities. I hid myself away under the hospitality of an old ally and friend—Talon—who allowed me to sink into my grief without question.
Surrounded by harpies who doted on me and never left my side, I surrendered to emptiness. I stopped living. I waited for time to erase me.
Then she came.
Sienna.
An extraordinary girl—radiant in a way I could not ignore. Her presence carried warmth, hope, and a scent unlike anything I had ever known. Even in my silence, my senses were drawn to her. I watched her. Listened to her. Felt her near me.
I didn't understand why Talon treated her with such cold distance. Why he kept her captive. Why he seemed irritated by her existence.
Perhaps I should have felt the same.
But she persisted.
She spoke to me endlessly—about her world, her fears, her losses. She was confused, lost, yearning… and painfully alone.
I let her talk.
I allowed her to come closer.
She never gave up on me.
Day after day, she stayed.
Why?
Why did she care so deeply? Why did she want to know me—really know me?
When I finally asked her, I saw her clearly for the first time.
She was breathtaking.
Her eyes held understanding, as if she could see straight into my wounds. Heat stirred within me—unfamiliar, dangerous. Her touch was gentle. Her scent intoxicating.
When she tried to pull away, I lost control.
Her fragrance overwhelmed me—floral, alive, grounding. The more I breathed her in, the more ravenous I became. My hands traced her warmth, her voice unraveling me completely.
She didn't resist.
She embraced me.
Every sound she made—every tremble—anchored me back into existence. Heaven itself could not compare to the sensation of being wanted again.
I told her my pain.
And instead of fleeing, she stayed.
She held me. She told me I was worthy. She never judged my weakness—she transformed it into strength.
With her, I remembered who I was.
A king.
Powerful. Whole.
I needed her. I wanted her. I could no longer imagine a life without her presence beside me.
I wanted to protect her—to bring her back to Bolivé, to care for her, to cherish her.
But she was Talon's captive.
Would he allow me to take her?
The more time I spent with her, the deeper I fell. Her optimism, her faith, her belief in life—it resurrected me. She pulled me out of the darkness I had willingly drowned in.
As I watched her sleep, my fingers tracing the marks along her skin, something stirred within me. I kissed her shoulder—
And light flared.
A glowing mark etched itself into her flesh.
Before I could react, the ground trembled.
A violent gust tore through the aerie.
Talon stood before me—bloodied, feathers disheveled, eyes blazing like a storm.
"What is going on here?" he demanded. "Aron, have you finally woken from your self-pity?"
His gaze snapped to Sienna. "Why is she with you?"
I gently removed my arm from around her and stood.
"She saved me," I said calmly. "She restored my spirit. I know she was your captive—but if she is a burden to you, I will take responsibility for her. I will bring her to my kingdom."
Talon stared at me in disbelief.
"A burden?" he repeated softly.
He looked at her again—this time, his expression softened.
And in that instant, I understood.
He felt the same.
My chest tightened.
Why did it have to be this way?
"I never wanted this," I said quietly. "But I want her. And I will take her from you."
The tension between us crackled—volatile, dangerous. Yet I saw his injuries, his exhaustion. Fighting him now would be dishonorable.
And I still owed him.
"Very well," I said. "I will leave without her—out of respect for our friendship. But when I return, I will take her. Even if I must defeat you."
I turned back to her, longing to touch her once more—
But Talon seized my wrist.
"Do not touch her."
Rage surged. "I had her. I have every right."
"I don't care," he snarled. "That means nothing."
For an egotistical king to fall this far—for her—was something I never anticipated.
This moment ended us.
I withdrew—not in defeat, but in restraint.
When I return, friendship will no longer bind us.
What once were allies will stand as enemies.
And I will not walk away again.