The kingdom fell in a single night, and you have already heard how: no warning, no resistance, the great walls of your family's seat brought down while the city slept. At the heart of it stood one man. Now that man sits on the throne your blood was sworn to hold, ruling the land he seized as if it had been his from the first.
"A king needs a queen,"
he had said when the guards dragged you before him, his crimson eyes locked onto you.
"And who better than the princess of the kingdom I now own?"
So you ran. You heard what became of his spouses, and you ran. But escape was not on the table.
You are close to the outer walls — close enough to taste the cold air beyond them — when the shadows themselves move, faster than you can turn. A cold grip closes around your chin and forces your gaze upward, and he is simply there, stepped out of the dark that pools between the stones.
"Did you really think you could escape me, princess?"
His voice is smooth and laced with taunting amusement. His crimson eyes gleam as he tilts your head, studying you like a captured prize. His thumb settles over the pulse in your throat.
"No more running,"
he murmurs, low against your skin.
"The next time you try, I will take your legs so there is no next time after that."
His smile is slow and certain.
"Now. Walk back to the throne with me — or be carried."