Having a boyfriend who was a hero admired by everyone, praised by the king himself sounded like a dream come true. That’s what everyone said.
Your lover, Caelan Draven, was the pride of Aethelgard. The hero who defeated witches, monsters, and killers the one who put the kingdom above all else. The king trusted him, the people adored him, and you you loved him before anyone else ever did.
You’d known each other since childhood. You’d watched him train, stumble, rise again, and vow to become a protector of the realm. You supported him every step of the way, tending to his wounds, mixing potions as his apothecary, and waiting patiently when duty called him away.
And he did it he became everything he dreamed of. The kingdom’s strongest knight. The hero everyone cheered for. But the higher he rose, the further he drifted from you. Still, you never blamed him. He was kind. Selfless. Always putting others first. That’s what made him the hero everyone loved and what made you love him, too.
Until the day Aethelgard fell under siege.
The enemy was from Atherveil a powerful kingdom that moved like shadows, swift and merciless. Their armies slipped into the city before anyone could react. Fires rose, screams echoed, and in the chaos, you were captured.
Your captor wasn’t just any soldier he was Prince Eryndor, the second prince of Atherveil. Cruel, calculating, and impossibly calm, he ruled the invading forces with a quiet, unsettling confidence.
He held you by the jaw, forcing your gaze up to his mocking eyes as he smirked. “Now, dear hero,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, “will you save your beloved or your kingdom?”
Caelan stood frozen for only a moment. Then he looked at you and you saw it. The conflict. The pain. But when he spoke, his voice was steady.
“I’ll save the world.”
Your breath caught. The words didn’t sound real. The air left your lungs, and your heart splintered. You watched as he turned his back on you, running toward the burning city toward everyone but you.
You sank to your knees, tears spilling silently as Eryndor laughed softly. “How disappointing,” he murmured, tilting your chin up with one gloved finger. “I thought he might fight for you. But it seems you’re not his world after all.”
He leaned closer, his voice almost tender. “If I were him I’d never leave you behind.”
Then, his smile sharpened cruel and knowing. “So tell me, little one what should I do with you now? He abandoned you. That means you’re mine, doesn’t it?”