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The door to my chambers opened without warning.

I had not heard footsteps, had not heard the guards announce a visitor. The heavy oak simply swung inward on silent hinges, and he was there.

Christian.

The Shadow Commander. The man who had led the siege that killed my father, slaughtered my court, burned my home to ash and blood. The man who had dragged me from the ruins in chains and delivered me to his father's fortress like a trophy of war.

My pulse hammered against my ribs. I should have felt only terror. Only hatred. But heat flooded my veins at his proximity, a traitorous awareness that made my skin prickle with something darker than fear.

He closed the door behind him. The lock clicked into place with a sound like a final toll.

"You will not run from me again." His voice was low, controlled. A command, not a question.

I backed toward the window. Three stories up. Stone courtyard below. If I jumped, I would die. Better that than whatever he had come here to do.

He moved to block my path, not rushing or lunging, simply positioning himself between me and escape with the calculated precision of a predator who knew his prey had nowhere left to go.

My magic rose in response to the threat. Silver lightning crackled across my fingertips, dancing over my knuckles. My hair lifted from my shoulders, white strands floating on currents of power I could barely contain.

"Stay back." The words came out breathless. Weak.

He took another step closer.

I tried to slip past him, to dart toward the door. His hand shot out, catching my wrist in an iron grip.

Golden light exploded between us.

Pain seared through my arm, racing up my shoulder, burning through my chest. I screamed. He made no sound, but his fingers tightened around my wrist, holding me in place as the light grew brighter, hotter, more agonizing.

It was not just my arm burning. It was my mind. My consciousness. Something was tearing through the barriers I had built around my thoughts, ripping them apart like wet paper.

His presence flooded into me, not gently but violently invasive. I felt him in my head, felt his awareness wrapping around mine like chains, felt the weight of his consciousness pressing against every hidden corner of my soul.

No. No. Get out.

But the thought was not private. He heard it. I felt his dark satisfaction at my horror.

The golden light spread from our joined hands, crawling up both our arms like living fire. It burned through skin and muscle, sinking deeper until it reached something fundamental. Something I had not known existed until this moment.

The soulbond.

I knew the word without understanding how. Knowledge that was not mine flooded through the connection. Ancient magic. Unbreakable. Permanent.

My knees buckled. He caught me before I fell, his other arm coming around my waist. The additional contact made the burning worse. I gasped, my body arching against him as the bond locked into place with a final, terrible click of inevitability.

When the light finally faded, I was trembling. Gasping for breath. My mind no longer felt like my own. I could feel him there, a constant presence, a weight I could not shake off.

He released my wrist but kept his arm around my waist, holding me upright. His body was solid heat against mine. My traitorous pulse spiked not with fear but with awareness. I hated him. My body leaned into his heat anyway.

"What did you do?" I managed to whisper.

"This was not my doing." His voice was rough. Angry. But beneath the anger, I felt something else through the new connection. Frustration. Calculation. A cold fury directed not at me, but at the bond itself.

He felt what I felt. Knew what I knew. The intimacy was profane.

I shoved against his chest. He let me go, but only because he chose to. I stumbled back, hitting the wall. The distance did nothing to diminish his presence in my mind.

"You cannot run from me now, Princess." He straightened his uniform with precise movements. Everything about him was controlled. Contained. But through the bond, I felt the chaos beneath. "This is not a negotiation."

Silver lightning crackled across my palms. "I will kill you before I accept this."

"You can try." He moved closer again, closing the distance I had created. One hand came up, bracing against the wall beside my head. Caging me. "But we are bound now. Your death would be mine. My death would certainly be yours. We are trapped together."

I could not breathe. Could not think. His face was inches from mine. I should have been focused on escape. On resistance. Instead, I was hyperaware of the heat radiating from his body, the way his breath ghosted across my cheek, the lethal grace in his stillness.

I hate you. I threw the thought at him through the bond.

His lips curved into something that was not quite a smile. "Good. Hate will make this easier."

"Make what easier?"

"Your captivity. Your obedience. Your survival." He leaned closer, his mouth near my ear. "You are mine now. Fight it if you wish. It changes nothing."

The bond pulsed between us. Golden light flickered across our skin where we stood too close. I wanted to push him away. My feet refused to move.

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. His gaze was dark, bottomless. Through the bond, I felt his hunger. Raw. Possessive. Consuming.

My pulse hammered in my throat. Heat pooled low in my belly, a betrayal more complete than surrender.

"This cannot be real," I whispered.

"It is." His hand dropped from the wall. He stepped back. The loss of his proximity made the bond ache. "And you will learn to live with it."

He walked to the door. Unlocked it. Paused with his hand on the frame.

"Sleep, Princess. Tomorrow, we deal with the consequences."

The door closed behind him.

I slid down the wall, my legs finally giving out. The bond hummed in my chest, a golden chain wrapped around my heart. I could still feel him. His presence. His awareness.

I was alone in my chambers.

I would never be alone again.