Chapter One "Bound by His Shadow"
915 Words
The dungeon beneath the palace had no proper name.
In truth, it did not need one.
Time there was never measured in days, but in the number of breaths a heart could steal before it finally collapsed and ceased to beat.
Lian sat on the cold stone floor, her back pressed against the wall.
Magical shackles tightened around her wrists—less painful than they were humiliating.
Light enough for her to almost forget them, yet heavy enough to remind her that her body no longer belonged to her.
Her white dress was stained with dark blotches, torn at the shoulder and along her thigh.
It had not happened by her will, nor by accident.
The fabric clung to her skin as though the chill of the dungeon sought to crawl beneath it rather than over it.
She felt exposed—too exposed—as if the walls themselves were watching her, staring with hidden eyes.
She shivered from the cold… but there was more than that.
One single thought refused to leave her mind:
He is coming.
She could feel it—close now.
She did not cry.
Tears were a luxury she had learned long ago changed nothing.
She had cried once before, and her family had not returned to life after they were slaughtered.
Now, fear spread silently in her chest, a weight she knew all too well.
Suddenly, the cell door opened.
Azar entered.
The King of Shadows.
He was tall and motionless, and his presence felt heavier than the chains around her wrists.
His shadow reached her first, covering her feet before his body followed.
His face was as hard as a statue carved without mercy, and his eyes were dark—reflecting nothing.
They were not eyes that saw people, but eyes that saw only what could be taken from them.
He stopped a short distance away.
Very short.
Yet he did not approach.
His gaze lingered on the torn fabric revealing her shoulder.
Something stirred within him—something he hid from her, though not from himself.
Her exposed skin and the way she sat upright despite the chains stirred him.
He hated that feeling instantly.
He stepped forward at last and spoke coldly:
“So this is what remains…”
His voice did not change as he continued,
“When a human is emptied of everything.”
Lian instinctively strained against the shackles, then stopped.
Weakness would not save her.
She lifted her head slowly.
Their eyes met in a dangerous instant—hers fixed on his without fear.
The fire behind her eyes was carefully concealed.
And she said, with a strength she did not know she possessed:
“Have you come to decide my fate?”
He was surprised by her boldness.
No woman before her had dared to meet his gaze.
A flicker crossed his features—something close to curiosity.
Then he said, with lethal calm:
“You are beneath my palace. Choose your words.”
Her voice trembled once… only once.
“I am not afraid of you.”
He moved closer.
Her words drove him mad despite his effort to hide his anger.
The air between them grew tight, suffocating.
His breath brushed her bare shoulder.
She shivered despite herself—and hated herself for letting him see it.
“You are afraid,” he said quietly, confidently.
Her body, her eyes, even her voice betrayed her—only her words denied it.
“Only a fool believes everyone fears him.”
His expression changed.
It was not desire—but sharp focus.
He lifted the torn fabric at her shoulder with two fingers.
The touch was neither warm nor hesitant.
It was a command.
Her breath caught.
“This body…”
“I could tear it apart,”
he said slowly,
“because it means nothing to me.”
Then, colder still:
“Your weakness or your strength is of no use to me.”
She looked up at him.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why are you doing this?”
His body stiffened, and he stepped back, as though closeness itself had been a mistake.
“I see the fates of humans,” he said harshly.
“And I end them.”
A muffled scream rose behind the walls—then stopped.
Silence returned, heavier than before.
He looked at her again.
“But you… I have not seen your fate yet.”
She swallowed, fear rising at his words.
Then he moved suddenly, far too close.
“Look at me.”
She obeyed, forcing strength into her eyes despite standing at the weakest moment of her life.
What he said was not a promise.
It was a veiled threat.
“You will not be executed.”
Her body trembled.
She had thought she would end as her family had—yet fate had chosen otherwise.
He continued in the same cold tone:
“And you will not be released.”
Her breath left her in sharp, broken gasps.
He turned toward the door.
“You will remain under my watch.”
Before leaving, he paused and said with a cruelty she saw clearly in his eyes:
“Your fear of me is necessary.”
Only then did Lian curl into herself and allow her body to shake.
The fear was real.
But it did not break her.
Now she understood—
he did not merely terrify her.
He was watching her.
And that…
was far more dangerous.
- Writer
