The halls of the Shadow Court were vast and silent. My footsteps echoed against black stone as the princes flanked me on either side. Every corner, every shadow, seemed alive twisting and writhing like it had a will of its own. I could feel it pressing against my skin, tugging at the edges of my mind.
"You are trembling," Raven said quietly, his gaze sharp as a blade.
I tried to straighten my spine, forcing calm I did not feel. "I am not."
"You are," Malek corrected, his hand brushing mine ever so lightly. The contact was brief, but enough to send heat curling up my arm. "The bond senses your fear. It reacts."
I swallowed hard. The bond. That invisible thread I did not understand, that tether to them I had never asked for. It pulsed faintly beneath my skin, a thrum of heat and something darker something alive.
Draven's eyes found mine, silver and unblinking. "Do not fight it," he said softly. "You cannot control it yet. It will control you until you learn."
"I do not want this," I whispered.
"You do not get a choice," Raven said bluntly. "None of us do. The bond is older than our wills. It does not ask."
I bit my lip, trying to contain the sudden panic that threatened to rise. I had always been careful. Quiet. Invisible. But the moment I entered this place, that careful life ended. Every step I took, every glance I cast, seemed magnified by the unrelenting weight of their attention.
Malek tilted his head, studying me as if reading my thoughts. "You feel it too," he murmured. "You feel the pull, the heat, the threat of something greater than yourself. Admit it."
"I…" I hesitated, caught in the storm of sensations, "I do."
Draven's lips curved in the faintest smile, one that did not reach his cold eyes. "Good. You cannot fight it. But you will learn to use it."
We entered a chamber that smelled of cold iron and burnt wood. Black tapestries covered the walls, embroidered with silver thread depicting battles long past princes and warriors intertwined with shadowy beasts. I shivered. Something about this room made the hairs on my arms stand on end, as if the past itself were watching me.
Raven gestured to a wide chair carved from obsidian. "Sit."
I hesitated. I was expected to obey. Expected to submit. But something inside me resisted. My life had been a series of subjections, and I was not ready to kneel before anyone even these men who claimed fate had bound me to them.
"I will not," I said firmly, my voice stronger than I had anticipated.
The room grew heavier. Shadows stretched and leaned, as if acknowledging my defiance. Raven's eyes darkened, a dangerous flicker in their gray depths. "Sit," he repeated, quieter this time, but the weight in his tone left no room for argument.
I swallowed. Slowly, cautiously, I lowered myself onto the obsidian chair. The shadows seemed to curl closer, wrapping around my limbs like serpents, soft and insistent.
Draven circled the chair, his footsteps silent. "The bond strengthens when you are still," he explained, almost like a lesson. "It feeds on your heart, your will. You may resist, but it learns faster than you can anticipate."
Malek knelt in front of me, his violet eyes glimmering in the dim light. "And it binds you to us," he added. "Our presence, our emotions, our desires. Do you feel that?"
I nodded, though it felt impossible to articulate the storm inside me. The heat of their proximity, the brush of power through the air, the shiver of fear and something else something I could not yet name made my head spin.
Draven reached out, resting a hand on the arm of the chair near mine. "Do not fear it," he said, voice softer now. "It will hurt at first. But you will come to understand the bond as part of yourself. And then you will have power beyond imagining."
I wanted to recoil. To run. To return to the small, insignificant girl I had been in Ebonvale, the girl who had been overlooked by everyone but Seraphine. But the moment Malek's gaze held mine, the shadows seemed to hum beneath my skin. A warmth spread from my chest to my fingertips.
"You will not be weak," Raven said suddenly, his voice carrying that low, commanding tone that made my stomach twist. "We will not allow it. But neither will we forgive weakness in the one bound to us."
I clenched my fists. "I am not your servant."
"No," Draven said, a dangerous edge to his calm, "you are our equal. But equal does not mean safe. Not in this realm. Not with us. And not with yourself."
Malek's hand brushed mine again, just a whisper of touch, and a jolt of heat spread through me. I looked into his violet eyes, and for the first time, I felt a flicker of something unnameable a promise, a warning, a desire that reached beyond my understanding.
The room fell silent. Shadows danced across the walls, alive and waiting. I realized then that I had never been alone. Not really. Not since the moment the bond had latched onto me in the festival courtyard.
I shivered, partly from fear, partly from the electric pull of their presence. This bond was not something I could ignore. It was stitched into me, intertwined with my very soul, an invisible thread that wound tightly around my heart.
Raven's hand rested on the back of my chair, his shadow curling over me protectively, possessively. "Tonight, you begin to understand what it means to be chosen."
Draven stepped closer, his silver eyes gleaming. "We will teach you, shape you, and protect you. And in time, you will learn to wield what is inside you."
Malek's gaze softened, just slightly. "But be warned. The bond is not forgiving. And neither are we."
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of those words settle into my chest. Fear, desire, anger, and something else a deep, unexplainable pull mingled together until it was impossible to separate one from another.
I had entered this world as a scared, overlooked girl.
I would not leave it the same.
The shadows pulsed around me, whispering promises I did not yet understand.
And the three princes stood closer, watching, waiting.
Waiting for me to take my first step into the life that would consume me completely.