I wake up to silence.
Not the cozy, gentle silence you might expect. This is the kind that presses against your ears, making you think you've lost hearing. It's the kind that raises the hairs on your arms and makes you feel like something's out there, watching, even if the room looks empty.
And it does look empty. At first glance.
The stone walls curve like the ribs of some huge beast, smooth and shiny, not cold, but not warm either. The air smells like wet moss and smoke. The bed is too soft, the sheets too fancy, and honestly, I hate it all.
I sit up slowly, every part of me sore, not from the carriage ride, but from the screaming and fighting, from refusing to give in. My throat hurts. My shoulders ache. My wrists have faint bruises from where the binding spell held me. The last thing I remember from last night was me being on my knees in the old circle chamber, blood running down from my nose, my arms pinned by invisible force, shaking from the spell pressing in. The envoy's chant is loud, but Kael's voice is louder, only it isn't a sound. It's a presence in my mind.
I looked up, dazed and defiant. "I won't belong to you."
He stood across from me, shadows clinging to him like armor, face unreadable. "You already do."
"I didn't say yes!"
"You didn't need to. The bond chose."
And then softer, almost regretful, he said, "You don't have to love me."
I wanted to scream. I think I did. The bond flared white-hot beneath my skin, branding me from the inside out.
My breath hitches at the memory, sharp and unwanted. I pull the blanket tighter around me, even though I'm burning up.
But I'm alive. For now.
And I'm alone.
At least, I was until I realised I wasn't alone.
I feel it, not footsteps, but a shift in the air. Then he's there, in the doorway like a shadow pulled from the wall, dressed in black again, with the silver thread in his collar catching just enough light to make him look cold.
Kael.
He doesn't step closer right away. He just watches me, his eyes unreadable, his face showing restraint. His magic coils behind him, dark and fluid, always ready to spill out.
I remember what he said last night:
"You don't have to love me."
But he didn't say I was allowed to hate him, which feels like a big oversight.
"What now?" I ask, my voice rough.
His head tilts slightly. "You're not dead. That's a start."
I roll my eyes. "Did you come here just to gloat?"
"No. I wanted to see if you'd try to run."
I glance at the window. There's no latch. No way out. "And where would I even go?"
His mouth nearly twitches into a smile. "Some try. The forest eats them."
"Charming."
"I'm not here to charm you."
I throw the covers back and stand up. His shadows react right away, pulling tighter around him, like a shield. It's like even this small act of standing in front of him is a threat.
To him or me, I don't know.
"You said last night that you can't touch anyone." I step closer, slowly, testing the waters.
The air gets tense.
He doesn't move.
I take another step. The pressure builds. My heart races like it's trying to warn me. The hairs on my neck stand up.
Kael's jaw tightens. "Don't."
"Why?" I stopped just a foot away. "What happens if I do?"
His breath hitches, and for the first time, he doesn't look like a prince or a curse or a legend.
He just looks tired. Afraid. Like he's been holding something back for so long that he doesn't even remember what it feels like to let it go.
"If I touch you," he says quietly, "you'll die."
I stare at him, my heart stuttering. "Just like that?"
"Yes."
"No one's immune to it?"
"No one's survived."
I search his face. "You've… tried this?"
He turns his head away, and the silence that follows is thick with ghosts.
And I realized, he has. He's tried. Maybe not recently, but he's attempted to reach for someone, and they didn't make it.
Something cold settles in my stomach.
I sit down again, slowly. "What is it? Pain? Fire? Do they burn?"
He shakes his head. "It's not like that. It's like… their life unravels. They fade. From the inside out."
I swallow hard. "But your court touches things. You hold swords. Wear rings."
"Objects are safe. Most of the time. But living things?" He meets my eyes again. "Even plants wilt under my hand."
I don't know what to say. What do you say to someone who is turned into a weapon by the gods?
I look at my hands, flex them. "How would this 'bond' between us even work if you can't touch me?"
Kael breathes out. "If you're truly the Thread, meant to reweave the curse, maybe some day, I'll be able to. That's what the old stories say."
"But until then…"
"I don't touch you. I don't want to touch you."
It should hurt, but it doesn't. He says it like he means it. Like he's put up walls around himself.
I study his gloved hands resting at his side. Still.
"What happens if you slip?" I ask.
"I won't."
"Not a real answer."
"It's the only one you'll get."
I snort. "Geez, you're impossible."
"And you're reckless."
The silence between us tightens again, but not in the same way. It's different.
It's full.
Full of things we haven't said. The way his eyes linger a little too long. Even though he stands at a distance, he hasn't left.
And neither have I.
I glance at the door. "Am I allowed to leave this room?"
"You're not a prisoner," he says.
"But there are consequences."
He nods. "You'll be watched. There are things in this castle that won't care who you are. Stick to the lighted halls. Stay away from the west wing."
"Why?"
He hesitates. "Because that's where the darkness is thickest. Even I don't go there."
Lovely.
Kael turns, his cloak trailing shadows behind him. But before he steps out, I blurt out:
"Don't you miss it?"
He stops.
I stand up slowly. "Touch. Skin. Warmth. You act like it's just a curse, but it's more than that, isn't it? It's lonely."
His shoulders stiffen.
"I would burn for it," he says, without looking back. "But I won't ask you to."
And then he's gone, swallowed by a corridor that doesn't echo with his steps.
The room feels colder.
I sit again, staring at my hands.
And for the first time since being dragged across the border, I wonder if maybe I'm not the only one who's trapped here.