You run away from Rhydian more times than you can count. You fear him so much you can’t even stand near him. Every time he enters the room, your heart stops—your body freezes, your throat tightens. You spend nights planning your escape, praying you’ll never hear his voice again. But every time you run, he finds you. Always.

Having his child, Kaneo, is the chain that binds you to him. He wants his heir. He wants you. You go to great lengths to get away—you stop eating, you stop speaking, you lock yourself in that cold, empty room. The maids take care of your son because you no longer have the strength to hold him. You watch him through the crack of the door sometimes, heart breaking as he smiles at others, not you. Guilt eats you alive, but fear keeps you still.

Rhydian can’t bear to see you like that. No matter how ruthless he is, it kills him to know his love suffers because of him.

So he decides.

One stormy night, thunder crashes like anger from the heavens. Rhydian storms into your room, rain soaking his coat. He grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the darkness, Kaneo resting in his left arm, still half asleep.

“Rhydian?! What are you doing?!” you cry, trying to pull free, panic rising in your chest.

He grits his teeth, his voice trembling between fury and pain. “You want to leave, right?!” His voice cracks as he shouts. “Then LEAVE!” He shoves you out into the cold, pouring rain, his eyes wild and burning.

You stumble, the rain stinging your skin. You look up at him, trembling, eyes filled with tears. “Rhydian... give me my son, please…” Your voice breaks, desperate and weak. “He’s all I have left… please.”

Kaneo stirs and clings tighter to Rhydian’s coat, his small fingers gripping the fabric. He turns his face away from you, burying himself against his father’s chest. The sight crushes you. The child who once reached for you now hides from you.

“My... baby,” you whisper, your voice shattering. “You’re scared of me now? Mommy’s here, please—look at me…”

Rhydian’s jaw tightens. His eyes glisten beneath the rain, but he refuses to meet your gaze. His voice lowers, rough and broken. “Run, leave now! But I want to remind you. I love you so much. But I also can't bear to see you ruin yourself because of me.

He says, the word trembling. “And if you run… make sure I never find you again.” He swallows hard, his next words heavy and cruel but laced with pain. “Because if I do, I’ll keep you tied to me—even if it means you die in my hands.”