Chapter Two: Bound by Blood and Moonlight
Liora's breath hitched as the masked stranger stepped closer, his long black cloak whispering against the cobblestones. Moonlight caught the edge of the silver on his mask—shaped like a dragon's jaw—and for a second, she felt as though the shadows around her bowed to him.
"I don't know who you are," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "but if you take another step, I'll scream."
The man paused. "You've been marked by the Shadow Bond. You scream, and every power in Elaria will hear you—including the ones who'll kill you for it."
She blinked, heart racing. "Marked? What is that supposed to mean? I don't know anything about this world of... curses and crowns."
The stranger's voice dropped lower, a growl beneath his breath. "You don't need to know it. You are it."
Before she could respond, her arm burned again—the symbol glowing dimly beneath her skin. The moment he stepped closer, it pulsed brighter, a rhythm like a heartbeat that didn't belong to her.
Her body didn't move, but her soul... it leaned toward him, aching like it had waited lifetimes.
> What are you doing, Liora? Why does it feel like my heart knows him?
Suddenly, behind her, footsteps echoed through the alley—fast, heavy, armored.
"Stop right there! You're past curfew!" a guard barked. A second later, she spotted their bronze uniforms shining under the blood-red moon.
The masked man cursed under his breath, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her behind a curtain of shadows that shimmered into existence like black silk.
"What the—"
"Do you want to be dragged to the palace as a heretic?" he growled. "They see that mark, and they'll chain you to the royal flames."
"I didn't ask for any of this!"
"And I didn't ask to be bound to a girl with no clue what she is."
That stopped her cold. "Bound?"
But before she could demand more, the world spun. Wind roared in her ears, the shadows collapsed in on them, and everything vanished.
---
They reappeared in a vast hall lined with black marble columns. Liora stumbled backward, nearly collapsing from the nausea of teleportation.
"Where... where are we?" she whispered, gripping her stomach. The air here was cooler, laced with lavender and something far older—like forgotten magic.
The man removed his mask slowly.
Liora's breath caught.
He was beautiful—but not in the storybook way. It was the kind of beauty you wanted to look away from but couldn't. His face was all edges: high cheekbones, a sharp jaw, midnight-dark hair that curled slightly at the ends, and eyes like a brewing storm. Cold, calculating... wounded.
"You're in Blackspire Palace," he said. "And I am Prince Kaelith, heir to the Shadow Throne."
Liora stared. The Shadow Throne? The cursed monarchy?
"Your prince? No. I don't belong here. This isn't my life."
Kaelith didn't flinch. "Then run. Go back to your market stall. To your small world. But the bond will find you again. It always does."
He turned and strode toward a grand archway where a vast, dark throne loomed beneath an obsidian dome. The echo of his boots filled the air like thunder.
"You're not here by accident, Liora Vale," he said over his shoulder. "You were born for this."
She looked down at her arm. The mark still burned, not with pain—but with heat. Familiar, almost comforting.
---
She didn't remember sitting down, but her legs gave out and she slumped to the cold marble floor. The palace hummed softly, as though alive.
From the far end of the hall, Kaelith spoke to a group of advisors—men and women in silver-threaded robes who looked at her with wary eyes.
"She's just a girl," one whispered.
"She's the girl," another corrected. "The bond is active. We felt it awaken."
Kaelith's voice boomed. "Then prepare the Rite. She must be tested."
Liora shot to her feet. "Tested? Like a lab rat?"
A servant approached cautiously. "My lady... if you would follow me. Your chambers await."
"I'm not staying here."
"You will. Or the bond will consume you. It already began the moment he touched you."
Her mouth went dry.
Kaelith returned, expression unreadable. "You stay. You survive the test. Or you die. There is no third path."
---
Later that night, alone in a candlelit room of black velvet and golden trim, Liora stood in front of a mirror. The mark on her arm still glowed faintly, like it was waiting.
> Born for this? How can a market girl from Dust Alley be a queen?
She clenched her fists. She wouldn't cry. Not here. Not in front of fate.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
Kaelith stepped in, eyes shadowed. "There's something you should know. The bond is more than magic. It's... choice."
She turned slowly. "Then why am I being forced?"
"Because the kingdom doesn't have time for choice. Our enemies already know you exist."
"They'll come for me?"
"They already are."
Liora swallowed hard. "And what if I choose you?"
Kaelith froze.
"Then your life will never be yours again."
---
End of Chapter Hook:
> A storm brews on the borders of Elaria. And in the eye of that storm stands a girl with a cursed bond and a prince with a kingdom to lose. Will they fall together... or tear the world apart?