Bound to the cursed King

Chapter seven: The unexpected rival

The guards never found me.

I knew because the tension in Garrett’s body slowly eased, his magic settling from a raging storm into a low, dangerous hum that wrapped around us both.

We remained hidden—not invisible, exactly, but unnoticed. The spell worked like a veil, bending awareness away from me. Anyone who looked in my direction felt an inexplicable urge to look elsewhere.

Anyone except Garrett.

His gaze never left my face.

“You’re shaking,” he said quietly.

Only then did I realize it was true.

My fingers trembled where they rested against his chest. I pulled them back instinctively, suddenly aware of how close we still were—how easily I had melted into him without thought.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

His brow furrowed.

The bond pulsed, warm and accusing.

“No,” he said. “You’re not.”

He guided me to a chair near the window, crouching in front of me so we were eye level. The intimacy of the gesture made my pulse stutter.

“Look at me,” he said.

I did.

Something in his expression softened—just barely—like a blade sheathed but never dulled.

“They will not touch you again,” he said. “I swear it.”

The certainty in his voice sent a strange ache through my chest.

“Garrett,” I began, unsure what I meant to say.

Before I could continue, a sharp presence brushed the edge of the spell.

Someone powerful.

Garrett straightened instantly.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “And do not speak unless I tell you to.”

The tone allowed no argument.

The door opened.

She entered as if she owned the room.

Tall. Elegant. Draped in deep crimson silk that clung to her curves with calculated precision. Dark hair braided with gold thread, posture flawless, gaze sharp and measuring.

Lady Seraphine Valen.

I didn’t know her—but the bond reacted before my mind did.

Tension.

Warning.

And… jealousy.

She stopped a few steps inside, her eyes going straight to Garrett.

“My king,” she said smoothly. “You vanished. The council is—”

Her words faltered.

She frowned, gaze sweeping the room.

She couldn’t see me.

But she felt something.

Her attention returned to Garrett, lingering too long.

“I was worried,” she continued softly. “After everything you’ve endured.”

Garrett’s jaw tightened.

“I am not in the mood for council politics,” he said.

Seraphine smiled faintly. “I can tell.”

She stepped closer.

Too close.

My chest tightened painfully.

Garrett didn’t move—but his magic spiked, sharp and territorial, sending a jolt through the bond that stole my breath.

Seraphine noticed.

Her eyes narrowed with interest.

“You’ve changed,” she said quietly. “Your power feels… unsettled.”

Garrett said nothing.

Her gaze traced his face with an intimacy that made something twist inside me.

“I remember when you used to let me help you calm the curse,” she added gently. “Before you shut everyone out.”

My nails dug into my palm.

Help him?

The bond burned.

Garrett’s eyes flashed silver.

“That time is over,” he said coldly.

Seraphine’s smile didn’t fade—but something sharp slipped into her eyes.

“I see,” she murmured. “And here I thought you might finally need me again.”

She reached out.

Not touching him—but close enough to be deliberate.

The bond flared violently.

Heat rushed through me—raw, possessive, undeniable.

Garrett reacted instantly.

He caught her wrist midair.

The room froze.

“Do not,” he said, voice low and lethal, “touch me like that again.”

Seraphine stared at his grip—then slowly lifted her gaze to his face.

Understanding dawned.

Not the truth.

But enough.

Her eyes flicked toward where I sat hidden.

She smiled.

Slow. Knowing.

“Interesting,” she murmured.

Garrett released her abruptly.

“You will leave,” he said. “Now.”

She inclined her head gracefully.

“As you wish, my king,” she said. Then softly, “But whatever has changed you… be careful.”

Her gaze lingered in my direction once more before she turned and left.

The door closed.

Silence stretched between us.

The bond simmered—uneasy, restless.

I stood before I could stop myself.

“Who is she?” I asked.

Garrett turned slowly.

“A noblewoman,” he said. “One who mistakes proximity to power for ownership.”

My chest tightened.

“She spoke as if she knew you.”

“She knew the curse,” he replied. “Not me.”

The bond pulsed—hot, questioning.

Garrett stepped closer.

Close enough that my breath caught.

His gaze searched my face, intense and unreadable.

“Does it bother you?” he asked quietly.

I swallowed.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

His lips curved slightly—not a smile, but something darker.

“Good,” he said.

The word sent a dangerous thrill through me.

Because somehow—

I knew he hadn’t meant it kindly.