Timeline: Immediately after Chapter 20
Location: Nocterra - Royal Chamber
KIERAN'S POV:
I'm half-asleep when the door opens.
Not the way Ravion moves—all confidence and authority.
This is stealth.
My eyes snap open.
Lyra stands in the doorway.
Behind her: six guards I don't recognize.
Dressed in black. Weapons drawn. Moving with the precision of trained assassins.
Not Nocterra guards.
Enemy.
"Ravion—" I try to shout but my voice comes out weak. Hoarse.
Too quiet.
Fuck.
The poison has stolen even my voice.
Lyra's expression is blank as she approaches the bed. "Don't struggle. This will be easier if you cooperate."
I try to move. To get up. To run.
My body won't obey.
Too weak.
I'm helpless.
"Get away from him."
The voice comes from the shadows near the window.
Ravion.
He steps into the candlelight, and I've never seen him look like this.
Red eyes blazing. Shadows writhing around him like living things. Expression absolutely murderous.
The temperature in the room drops.
"Your Majesty." Lyra doesn't even look surprised. "I hoped to avoid confrontation."
"You poisoned him." Ravion's voice is deadly calm. Worse than shouting. "You've been poisoning him for weeks."
"Orders."
"Whose orders?"
"That's not—"
"WHOSE?!" The shadows surge.
Lyra steps back. Signals the guards.
They move as one—three toward Ravion, three toward me.
Everything happens fast.
The first guard lunges at Ravion with a blade coated in something that glows green.
Poison. Or worse.
Ravion catches the blade. Bare-handed. The metal screams as shadows wrap around it, corrupting it, turning it to ash.
The guard's eyes widen in shock.
Ravion's hand shoots forward. Grabs the guard's throat.
Shadows pour from his fingers into the guard's mouth, nose, eyes—
The guard convulses. Collapses. Dead.
Three seconds.
The other two guards attacking Ravion hesitate.
Mistake.
Ravion moves like death incarnate.
Shadows explode from him—solid, sharp, lethal. They pierce through the second guard's chest. Wrap around the third guard's neck and twist.
Two more bodies hit the floor.
Five seconds total.
I've never seen him fight before.
Never seen what the Dark King can actually do.
It's terrifying.
BUT
It's him protecting me.
The three guards moving toward me freeze.
They've just watched their companions die in seconds.
"Run," one of them whispers.
They bolt for the door.
Shadows erupt from the floor. Solid black tendrils that grab ankles, wrists, throats.
The guards scream.
Ravion doesn't even look at them. His eyes are locked on Lyra.
"You have three seconds to tell me who sent you," he says. Voice still that deadly calm. "Before I make you beg for death."
Lyra's expression finally cracks. Fear flickers across her face.
"Queen Isolde," she says quickly. "I serve Queen Isolde."
My blood turns to ice.
Isolde.
Kaelis' mother.
The queen who tried to force him into marriage.
"Why?" Ravion demands.
"The prophecy. The boy—he's part of it. She needs him."
"She can't have him."
"She'll come herself if—"
"Let her." Ravion's smile is vicious. "I'll kill her too."
The shadows holding the three guards tighten.
Snap.
Three bodies drop.
Lyra runs.
Ravion's hand shoots out—shadows racing after her—
She throws something. A crystal. It shatters.
Portal.
Emergency exit.
"NO!" Ravion lunges.
But she's already through.
The portal snaps shut.
Silence.
Six bodies on the floor. Blood pooling on stone. The smell of death and dark magic thick in the air.
Ravion stands in the center of it all, breathing hard, shadows still writhing around him like serpents.
Then he turns to me.
And his expression transforms.
The rage melts. The shadows recede. His eyes—still glowing faintly red—fill with concern.
"Kieran." He's beside the bed in two strides. Hands on my face, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did they touch you?"
I shake my head. Can't speak. Too shocked.
"You're safe." His thumb brushes across my cheek. "You're safe. I've got you. You're—"
I'm crying.
Not from fear—though I'm definitely terrified.
From relief.
He saved me.
Killed for me.
Six trained assassins dead in seconds because they tried to take me.
"Shh." He pulls me against his chest. Carefully. Gently. Despite the blood on his hands and shadows still clinging to him. "You're okay. You're safe."
"You—you killed them—"
"Yes." No hesitation. No regret. "And I'd kill a thousand more if they tried to take you from me."
"Ravion—"
"No one touches you." His arms tighten. "No one hurts you. No one takes you from me. Ever." His voice breaks. "I can't—I can't lose you, Kieran."
I bury my face in his chest. Breathe him in. Let the bond sing between us—relieved, content, safe.
"I'm here," I whisper. "I'm okay. You saved me."
"Always." He presses a kiss to my hair. "I'll always save you."
Guards pour into the room minutes later—actual Nocterra guards, responding to the noise.
They stop dead at the sight.
Six bodies. Blood everywhere. Their King holding his consort, covered in gore but expression impossibly gentle.
"Clean this up," Ravion orders without looking at them. "And seal the castle. NOW. We're under attack."
"Your Majesty—who—"
"Queen Isolde of Arventis just attempted to kidnap my husband." His eyes flash red. "Consider this a declaration of war."
The guards scatter.
Ravion looks down at me. "We need to move you somewhere safer."
"I can't—I can barely move—"
"I know." He slides one arm under my knees, the other behind my back. Lifts me effortlessly. "That's why I'm carrying you."
"Where are we going?"
"The throne room. Defendable. Secure. And I can summon the council there." He starts walking, still holding me like I weigh nothing. "We're preparing for war."
"Ravion, I—" My voice is so weak. "The poison—I can't fight—"
"You don't have to fight." His voice is firm. "That's my job. Your job is to rest and recover. Let me handle everything else."
"But—"
"No." He looks down at me as we move through corridors. "I'm the Dark King, Kieran. I've conquered kingdoms. Destroyed armies. Ruled through fear and power for decades." His expression softens.
"Protecting you is the easiest thing I've ever done."
"You make it sound simple."
"It is simple." We reach the throne room. He carries me to the smaller throne—mine, technically—and sets me down gently. "You're mine. Anyone who tries to take you dies. Very simple."
Despite everything—the attack, the poison, the fear—I laugh.
Weak and broken, but genuine.
"You're insane."
"I'm in love." He says it so easily. "Same thing."
Before I can respond, the council starts arriving. Elara first, looking horrified when she sees the blood on Ravion's clothes.
"What happened?!"
"Assassination attempt," Ravion says calmly. "They failed. Obviously."
"The consort—" She rushes to me. "Oh, my dear boy, are you—"
"Poisoned," I manage. "But alive."
"We need the physicians—"
"Already sent for." Ravion is all business now. "Elara, I need you to coordinate the healers. Find an antidote for whatever poison was used."
"Of course." She squeezes my hand. "You'll be alright, dear. I promise."
More council members arrive. Draven—wait, no, wrong person. General Marcus, Ravion's military commander.
"Your Majesty." He bows. "I've sealed the castle. No one in or out."
"Good." Ravion stands before his throne. "Queen Isolde of Arventis just made an enemy of Nocterra. I want full mobilization. Prepare for war."
"War, Your Majesty?"
"She tried to kidnap my consort. She's been poisoning him for weeks through a spy in my own castle." His eyes glow. "That's an act of war."
"What are your orders?"
"Fortify defenses. Double the guards. No one I don't personally trust gets near the consort." He glances at me. "And send word to the Sea God."
I blink. "Nyx? Why—"
"Because if Isolde tried to take you," Ravion says grimly, "she's probably going after Kaelis too."
Oh no.
Oh fuck.
"We need to warn him—"
"Already sending a message." Ravion nods to a servant. "He needs to know Isolde is moving."
The servant rushes off.
Ravion returns to me. Kneels beside the throne so we're eye-level.
"How do you feel?" he asks quietly.
"Weak. Scared. Angry."
"Good." He takes my hand. "Hold onto that anger. It'll keep you fighting."
"I can barely stand, Ravion. I'm useless."
"You're alive." His grip tightens. "That's all that matters. Everything else, I'll handle."
"You can't fight a war alone."
"Watch me."
I want to argue. Want to tell him he's being ridiculous.
But I've just seen him kill six trained assassins in seconds.
Maybe he can fight a war alone.
"What if she comes back?" I whisper. "What if she brings an army?"
"Then I'll kill an army." He says it so simply. "For you, Kieran, I'd kill everyone."
"That's—that's psychotic."
"That's love." He smiles. Small but genuine. "Get used to it."
Despite everything—the fear, the poison, the war we're apparently starting—
I smile back.
"Okay," I say softly. "I'm getting used to it."
He kisses my forehead. Gentle. Reverent.
"Good."
The physicians arrive. Start working on identifying the poison.
The council debates strategies.
Guards patrol.
And Ravion never leaves my side.
Even covered in blood. Even with a kingdom to run and a war to plan.
He stays.
Because I'm his.
And he's mine.
And anyone who tries to change that?
They'll learn what the Dark King can do.
Hours later, when things have calmed slightly—
When I'm settled in a fortified room with guards at every entrance—
When the physicians have given me something to counteract the poison—
Ravion finally sits beside me.
Exhausted. Still covered in dried blood. Shadows still clinging to him faintly.
"You should clean up," I murmur.
"I'm fine."
"You're covered in blood."
"Their blood. Not mine. So I'm fine." He takes my hand. "How do you feel?"
"Better. The antidote is working."
"Good." His thumb traces circles on my palm. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not protecting you. For letting someone get close enough to poison you for weeks." His jaw tightens. "I should have noticed."
"You couldn't have known."
"I should have." He looks at me. "You're my responsibility. My husband. And I failed—"
"You saved me." I squeeze his hand. "You killed six people in seconds to save me. That's not failing."
"I shouldn't have needed to. If I'd been more careful—"
"Ravion." I make him look at me. "You saved me. That's all that matters."
He's quiet for a long moment.
Then: "I love you."
My breath catches.
He's said it before. Implied it. Shown it.
But hearing it now—after everything—
"I love you," he repeats. "I know it's fast. I know we started badly. I know you probably don't feel the same yet. But I need you to know. What you are to me. What you mean to me." His hand tightens on mine. "I would destroy kingdoms for you. Start wars for you. Kill for you. I did kill for you. And I'd do it again. Gladly."
Tears burn behind my eyes.
"That's terrifying."
"I know."
"And kind of romantic?"
"I hoped so."
"And completely insane."
"Absolutely." He smiles. "So? Do I terrify you?"
I think about it. Really think.
"Yeah," I admit. "You terrify me."
His smile fades.
"But—" I continue. "—I think I might love you too."
The smile returns.
"Might?"
"Definitely." I pull him closer. "I definitely love you. Even though you're psychotic and covered in blood and just started a war for me."
"Especially because of that?"
"Especially because of that."
He kisses me.
Soft. Gentle. Despite the blood and violence and chaos.
"We're going to be okay," he murmurs against my lips.
"You sure about that? We're at war."
"Positive." He pulls back, looks at me with absolute certainty. "Because I'm the Dark King. And you're mine. And anyone who tries to take you—" His eyes flash red. "—dies."
I should be horrified.
Instead, I feel safe.
"Okay," I whisper. "I believe you."
"Good."
We sit there in the fortified room, holding each other, planning for war.
And despite everything—
Despite the poison, the attack, the danger—
I've never felt more loved.