9. Where it Started

Silas's Pov:

Two days until the wedding, and I was slowly losing my mind.

After the King had slammed the door and left me staring at that cursed ring, I had cried for hours. Ugly, broken sobs that tore from my chest until my throat was raw and my eyes were swollen shut. I eventually passed out in a pool of my own tears, still clutching the translucent band with its swirling liquid patterns. I wouldn't deny, the ring was absolutely beautiful, only if it wasn't going to be the representation of the bondage I was about to put myself into.

After the heart wrenching mating ceremony announcement, the days that followed felt like an endless nightmare. I was confined to this luxurious prison of a room, guarded at all times. I hadn’t seen the King since that evening, not even once. Not that I wanted to.

His absence was both a relief and another form of torture, because the bond hummed restlessly under my skin, aching for the very monster who had condemned me to this fate.

My omega was restless, he yearned for his mate. Having him so close but yet so far was another kind of torture.

Sometimes, I just wondered if I was ever going to escape this unkind fate of mine.

Food arrived promptly, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Most of it went untouched, I only forced myself to eat when the dizziness became too severe and the room started spinning.

It wasn’t defiance, the last thing on my list was to starve myself, I just simply had no appetite. How could I, when every bite tasted like ash and my future had been reduced to being a royal breeding vessel?

My life is just a messy joke at this point. The Moon Goddess must be having the time of her life, putting me in such misery.

That particular evening, a knock startled me out of my spiraling thoughts.

“The King requests your presence for dinner,” a servant announced through the door. “He expects you in the main dining hall.”

My stomach twisted. For a long moment, I considered refusing. But the memory of the white room, the whip, and that soul shattering chair flashed through my mind. I couldn’t risk angering him again. I didn't want to go back there.

With shaking hands, I pulled open the wardrobe that had been provided with just a few shirts and pants that all would surely hang loosely on my thin frame. As a person who has worn dark colors most of my life, wearing light shade clothes felt weird. And worse, the closet was full of them.

So I put on soft beige trousers and a simple white silk shirt that hung off my frame and padded downstairs barefoot, feeling the coldness of the marble floor shooting through my feet to my brain as I walked.

The grand dining room was empty when I arrived. “Thank goddess.” I let out a shaky sigh and moved toward the long table, pulling out a chair for myself.

“Hello?”

I spun around so fast my vision blurred.

A tall man stood in the doorway, by the arc, watching me with mild curiosity. He looked so strikingly similar to the King, the same sharp jawline, the same dark hair, the same commanding presence, that for a terrifying second I thought it was him, but the eyes were different. While his Majesty possessed a set of deep, cold blue terrifying eyes, this man's looked… warmer, less cruel.

“You must be my brother’s mate,” he said with a small, polite smile.

I nodded awkwardly, unsure what else to do.

“I’m Prince Zira,” he introduced, stepping closer and extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

I stared at his outstretched hand, hesitation freezing me in place. With the kind of man the King was, I didn't think he would approve me interacting with another person,

especially if that person was his brother. But refusing the Prince felt equally dangerous… and disrespectful.

Swallowing hard, I slowly lifted my own hand to accept the handshake.

Just as our hands were about to touch, a sharp sound cut through the air, someone clearing their throat.

We both turned toward the entrance, and there he was.

The King's cold blue eyes locked on us with unmistakable displeasure, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

I immediately dropped my hand and took two hasty steps back, my heart slamming against my ribs as pure fear flooded my veins. The bond twisted painfully inside me, pulling me toward him even as every instinct screamed to run.

His eyes were hard on me first, cold and piercing, before they shifted to Prince Zira. Irritation flashed across his face instantly, darkening those blue eyes than they already were.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked gruffly, his voice low and sharp.

Prince Zira didn’t seem fazed. He simply smiled with that light, easy expression he looked at me with earlier, still in place. “I heard my dear older brother was finally getting mated. Couldn’t miss it, could I? Even though you didn’t bother to send a word.”

Zenith’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t invite you.”

“Exactly,” Zira replied lightly, shrugging one shoulder. “That’s why I had to come myself. Family should be present for these things, don’t you think?”

I marveled at the contrast between them. They looked so alike, nearly like twins with the same strong features and commanding build, yet their demeanors couldn’t have been more different. Where the King was all storm and ice, Prince Zira carried himself with a strange, almost casual warmth that felt completely out of place in this palace of cruelty.

Their conversation ended when Prince Zira glanced my way again. “I was simply introducing myself to your mate.”

Both pairs of blue eyes turned to me at once and I stiffened immediately. My breath caught in my throat under the sudden weight of their attention.

His Majesty hummed low in his throat, then spoke on my behalf. “This is Silas.” The way he said my name carried no warmth, in fact, he said my name as if it tasted like poison and something between warning and disdain.

He looked at me again and pinned me with a cold glare. “What the hell are you looking at? Go and sit down.”

I flinched hard at his sudden sharp voice and scrambled to obey, nearly knocking the chair over in my haste. I sat quickly, placing both hands on my lap and looking down, away from both of them.

A few seconds later, I heard Zira clear his throat. “Alright then, I’ll go freshen up. I’ll see you both later.”

His footsteps faded down the hall, and then it was just us.

I expected the King to take the seat opposite me, maintaining as much distance as possible. But to my utmost surprise, he pulled out the chair right beside me and sat down instead. The moment he did, his scent, that overwhelming cedarwood and ancient earth, flooded my senses completely. It wrapped around me like invisible chains, calming the frantic nervousness in my chest even though he was the source of all my fear.

I wanted to scoff out loud at how funny it was. How he was the one who caused the fear in me, and was the one who could calm it.

There was a brief, heavy pause. For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to say anything, until my left hand was suddenly grabbed roughly. The King lifted it into the air, his grip firm and unyielding.

“Where’s your ring?” he demanded.

My heart thudded violently. I had left it in the drawer, thinking it was only for the ceremony. “I-I thought I was only supposed to wear it after the mating ceremony,” I stammered. “So I kept it somewhere sa–”

“Next time I set my eyes on you before the ceremony and you’re not wearing that ring,” he cut in coldly, “you’re going to wish that chair had finished the job.”

I gulped, nodding quickly. “Yes…”

He raised a brow, waiting.

“Yes what?” He asked.

“Yes… Your Majesty?” I said uncertainly.

It was the first time I had addressed him directly like that. I wasn’t sure what title or tone he expected, definitely not his name, that's for sure. He seemed satisfied though, giving a single nod before releasing my hand.

I glanced at the side of his face and looked back at the top of the table.

Oh I'm doomed.