She fought hard, even when her arms started shaking.
Sylvera pulled against the guards until her muscles burned. The rope cut deep into her wrists. It hurt so much it felt like it was cutting her skin open. Blood ran down her hands. Her hands were slippery.
She didn't care.
She kicked.
Her heel hit someone's shin. The guard swore and grabbed her tighter.
Sylvera twisted again. She tried to slip out. She turned her body, fast and rough. Her breath came hard behind the gag. Her throat hurt.
Then one hand slipped.
Not fully.
Just a little.
Her heart jumped.
Now.
Sylvera threw her elbow back with all her strength.
It hit with a hard crack. The guard grunted. His hold loosened for a second.
That was enough.
Sylvera pulled hard and tore herself free. Dirt flew. Blood splashed. Her wrists screamed with pain.
One breath.
One second.
One chance.
She ran.
The forest closed around her right away. Her bare feet hit mud and wet grass. She slipped on moss. Roots hit her toes. Branches hit her face. They scratched her skin and pulled her hair.
She didn't stop.
She couldn't.
Only one thing stayed in her head.
Run. Move. Don't stop.
Shouts burst behind her.
Metal clashed.
Hooves hit the ground loud and heavy.
Someone was chasing her.
He was chasing her.
Lorian.
Her stomach turned, but her legs kept moving. Faster. Harder.
Magic sparked in her hands. Blue light jumped from her fingers. It was messy and wild. Not clean. Not controlled.
She threw it behind her.
A tree broke apart with a loud crack. Wood flew everywhere.
Good.
Let him see it.
Let him know she could hurt him too.
Let him pay.
The forest rushed past. Dark trees. White moonlight. Moving shadows.
Her clothes tore. Cuts burned on her legs. Blood ran down her thighs. It felt warm.
She didn't care.
Somewhere, children were still sleeping.
Somewhere, mothers still thought their kids were safe.
And inside Sylvera… something changed.
Not the soft magic she used to heal.
Not the gentle power she used to help people.
This was different.
This was anger.
This was hate.
This was fear turning into fire.
She tried to run more.
But the Blackthorn Woods were cruel.
Roots grabbed her feet. The ground was slippery. Shadows felt too close.
Her legs shook. She hit a fallen log and almost fell. She caught herself with her hands. Mud covered her palms. Pain shot through her fingers.
Her breath broke.
Move. Gods, MOVE.
Then everything went quiet.
No laughter.
No voice.
No sound behind her.
Just silence.
Wrong silence.
A step.
Soft.
Close.
Another step.
Slow.
Sure.
Sylvera froze.
Her body went cold.
She turned.
Lorian stood there.
Ten steps away.
Moonlight fell on his face. His tunic was torn. Blood covered his chest. Not his blood. His eyes shone silver in the dark.
He wasn't smiling.
That scared her more than anything.
He looked… sad.
Regretful.
"I didn't want it to be this way," he said softly. His voice was deep and calm, like this was normal. "If only you hadn't seen."
Sylvera moved back.
One step.
Then another.
Her heel caught on a root.
She fell hard into the mud. Stones cut her palms. Pain hit her back.
She tried to crawl away.
But he came closer.
Quiet.
Slow.
Not rushing.
Like he knew she couldn't escape.
He knelt beside her.
Too close.
His fingers brushed a leaf off her cheek. Gentle, almost loving.
It made her feel sick.
"You're still mine, Sylvera," he whispered.
The words hit her like a slap.
"Even now." He paused. "Especially now."
Sylvera shook her head hard. Tears burned her eyes. The gag made her sound small and broken.
Lorian smiled softly.
Cruel.
"You cast a spell on me," he said. "Remember?"
His thumb touched her jaw, slow and close. It made her skin crawl.
"A love potion." His eyes stayed on hers. "Did you really think I wouldn't taste it?"
Her breath broke.
"And now," he said, leaning near her ear, "I've tied you to me with something stronger."
His blood-covered hand pressed on her chest, right above her heart.
Slow.
Like he was claiming her heartbeat.
"You broke me open," he whispered. "Now I'll do the same to you."
His hand stayed there for a moment. Like he could feel her fear.
Then he lifted her.
One arm under her knees.
One arm behind her back.
Easy.
Too easy.
Sylvera fought. She twisted. She kicked. She scratched his shoulder. Her nails cut his skin. Blood appeared.
For one second, she felt happy.
He didn't even react.
He smiled.
"Good," he murmured. He held her tighter until her ribs hurt. "Hurt me, little witch. It makes me want you more."
Sylvera's strength started to leave her body. She was tired. She was bleeding. She was terrified.
Her head fell against him.
She hated it.
His clothes were wet. Sweat and old blood. The smell made her stomach turn.
His heartbeat was slow.
Calm.
Steady.
Like he was not scared at all.
Not a king carrying his bride, her mind whispered.A monster taking his prize.
Torchlight appeared ahead.
The trees opened.
And she saw it.
The black carriage.
No gold. No beauty. No kindness.
It was black and shiny, like stone. It swallowed the torchlight. There were no windows. No air holes. Iron bars covered the door.
A cage.
Lorian walked to it without stopping.
A guard opened the door.
The smell hit Sylvera hard.
Hot.
Metal.
Blood.
Then a sweet rotten smell under it. It filled her throat and made bile rise.
Flesh.
Not fresh.
Old flesh. Preserved. Twisted by magic.
Sylvera bucked hard in his arms. She tried to scream, but the gag stopped it. Her whole body shook with anger.
Lorian chuckled low.
"Did you think I would hunt without a cage?" he whispered.
He lowered her inside slowly.
Cruelly.
Sylvera fought until pain screamed through her body.
The ropes scraped her wrists raw.
She fought anyway.
The door slammed shut.
Heavy.
Final.
Like a coffin closing.
Darkness fell.
Not soft darkness.
Thick darkness.
A darkness that felt alive.
Then his voice came close again.
Low.
Soft.
Too loving.
"Don't look so scared."
His fingers touched her cheek, gentle like a prayer, but it felt wrong. Dirty.
"You're special," he whispered. "The others broke so fast."
His breath touched her ear.
"But you…" His smile sharpened.
"…you I'll keep."
Sylvera turned her face away.
Her wrists burned. Blood ran down her hands. The ropes bit deep.
Still she pulled.
Again.
Again.
Until her eyes blurred and stars swam in her vision.
Because giving up meant death.
And she wasn't ready to die.
Not before making him bleed.