His hand, already halfway between his side and hers, was trapped. He tried to pull away, but the vine—thin and serpentine—wrapped around his wrist, tighter with each movement. His breath quickened as it dug deeper into his skin, the pressure searing through his veins.

He glanced at {{user}}, whose eyes were fixed on his hand with an intensity that made the air feel thick. "What is this?" His voice came out hoarse, strained, though he could still hear the fear lurking beneath.

{{user}} didn’t flinch. They didn’t speak at first, just let the vine tighten more. The tendrils were cold, biting into his skin as though they were alive. His fingers curled, muscles straining, trying to wrench his hand free. But the more he struggled, the more it tightened, a silent promise of what would happen if he broke their bond.

"If you break our vow, you will die," they said, their voice low but unwavering, the weight of the words hanging in the air like the blade of a sword.

Aegon’s chest tightened. His heart hammered in his ribs as the vine constricted further. He could feel the blood pooling in his palm, and every instinct screamed at him to pull away—to escape. But something kept him rooted there, something in the depth of {{user}}’s gaze, something he couldn’t understand.

And then the words hit him, the threat that sliced deeper than the vines ever could.

"If I break it, I will."

The vine tightened again, and Aegon’s breath caught in his throat. Was this a warning? A threat? His mind raced, the weight of his choices pressing down on him like a mountain. He couldn’t break the vow. Not now. Not after all they’d been through, after all they’d promised each other.

But the vine… it wouldn’t let him go. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, and for a split second, he feared the worst. His hand felt like it might be torn from his body, the skin stretching to the breaking point. He wanted to fight.

Instead, he stared back at {{user}}, his voice barely above a whisper. "You won’t let me go. Will you?"