Chapter 2: The Shattered Vows.
1097 Words
“Dominion Aura?”
Arin Vale blinked, stunned. Wait—that Dominion Aura? The one everyone talked about in whispers? The kind of power that could make a grown man drop his sword and run just by feeling it?
He quickly looked down at himself, checked his hands, his clothes—nothing. No glowing marks, no strange light.
“Is this thing even real?” he muttered.
“What’s wrong, Arin?” Lyra Quinn asked quietly. Her brows drew together, that gentle curiosity in her eyes making him hesitate.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, waving a hand. “It’s nothing, really.”
But the moment his hand moved, something changed. A rush of… something. Like the air itself trembled. A chill ran down his spine.
Lyra flinched. Her cheeks flushed pink. “Even the way you move feels… different,” she whispered. “Strong.”
Strong? He frowned. She couldn’t see anything—but she could feel it.
The realization hit him hard.
This wasn’t some flashy spell or aura bursting out in light. It was quiet. Invisible. And it worked on instinct. The Dominion Aura simply was. It lived in his voice, his movements, the space around him—commanding others without him even trying.
Before he could wrap his head around it, shouting broke out.
A crowd spilled from the inn doors. Maera Thorn led the pack, her face red with fury. Beside her was Serene Liora, still in her wedding gown, looking more like a vengeful ghost than a bride.
“Arin Vale!” Maera barked, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Where do you think you’re running off to with that witch?”
Lyra tensed beside him.
Serene’s eyes burned with rage. “Lyra Quinn! I called you my sister! And you steal my husband on my wedding day?”
Lyra almost laughed. The sound came out sharp, bitter. “Your husband? You didn’t treat him like one.” Her voice dropped. “And Arin isn’t yours anymore.”
“You filthy little snake!” Maera screamed. “I’ll tear that mouth of yours right open!”
She lunged.
But before her hand even came close, Arin caught her wrist midair. His grip was firm—unshakable.
The crowd froze. No one expected that. Not from Arin.
The man who had stood silent through every insult, who’d bowed his head when humiliated—he was gone.
“What are you doing?! Let go!” Maera shrieked, yanking, but his hand didn’t move.
Arin released her suddenly and stepped forward, placing himself between her and Lyra. His voice came out quiet—but it carried a weight that made the air heavy.
“I’d love to see who dares take another step.”
The moment he spoke, it was like thunder rolled through the courtyard.
That same invisible force flared again, spreading like a shockwave. Dominion Aura.
People stumbled back, faces pale. Even Maera took a few shaky steps away, clutching her wrist.
This wasn’t the same man.
Serene stared at him, wide-eyed, lips trembling. “Arin…” she whispered, barely recognizing him.
Behind him, Lyra’s heart skipped. The way he stood—tall, calm, untouchable—it sent a strange warmth through her.
So this is what it feels like to be safe, she thought. To stand beside someone who won’t let the world trample you.
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When Maera realized no one else dared speak, she turned her fury back on Lyra. “You shameless witch! Seducing another woman’s husband right at the altar? Have you no shame?!”
Lyra’s jaw tightened. Even the onlookers began murmuring, eyes darting between them.
But Lyra wasn’t someone who took hits quietly. “You were the one who ruined everything,” she said, her voice low but sharp. “You kept demanding more and more dowry until Arin had no choice but to walk away.”
The whispers grew louder. People remembered now—the Thorn family had asked for gold even as the vows were being said. Greed had poisoned everything.
Maera’s eyes flashed. “And who do you think you are to interfere, girl?!”
Lyra smirked. “Who am I?”
She reached into her pouch and pulled out a golden card, holding it between two fingers. Then—slap!—she threw it right at Maera’s chest.
“There’s three hundred thousand gold in there,” she said coolly. “Take it. Consider the dowry paid.”
She stepped closer, voice cutting like ice. “But get one thing straight—Serene didn’t refuse to marry Arin. Arin divorced her.”
Maera froze. The crowd gasped.
Then came the whispers again, sharper this time.
“Well, that’s what greed brings.”
“They sold their daughter and lost the groom.”
“The whole Thorn family’s reputation—gone.”
Maera’s face turned beet red. Her breath came in shallow gasps. She stumbled, then collapsed to her knees, clutching her chest.
Arin turned to Lyra, completely speechless. “You… you just threw three hundred thousand gold at her?”
Lyra smiled faintly, eyes dancing. “Felt worth it,” she said softly. “Some lessons cost money.”
He stared for a moment, then sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll repay you. I swear it.”
She only smiled again, not saying a word.
But the matter wasn’t over yet.
“You’ve got your gold,” Arin said flatly. “Serene, bring your bond certificate. We’re going to the Hall of Binding Oaths.”
Serene’s face went white. “No, please—Arin, don’t do this!” she cried, clutching his trousers. “I’ll change! I promise! Don’t leave me!”
But he just looked at her. And the look said everything.
That love, that hope—it was gone.
Without another word, he pulled her to her feet and led her to the Hall.
When they returned, Arin held the divorce scroll in his hand. He stared at it for a moment, then laughed quietly—almost bitterly. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the brazier.
The parchment burned, curling into black ash.
Without looking back, he climbed into the carriage beside Lyra. The wheels rolled over the dirt, carrying them into the dusk.
Behind them, Serene Liora fell to her knees, her once-white gown stained with dust and tears. She stayed there as the crowd slowly dispersed, her sobs echoing faintly through the evening air.
And just like that, Arin Vale’s vows turned to smoke—
But something far greater had awakened within him.
- Writer
