Hell bound with you

Defying Fate

From the moment Caspian learned to walk, he had been a storm no one could contain.

As a child, his antics were the bane of every maid and caretaker in the palace. They tried their best to tame him, to teach him manners and discipline, but Caspian had an uncanny talent for slipping through their fingers like sand. He listened to no one—not even his father, the king.

His wild, untamed nature was both a curse and a curiosity within the castle walls.

Years later, not much had changed.

Caspian had grown into a man with that same stubborn streak—a free spirit who refused to be bound by duty or decorum. What others considered unthinkable, he embraced without hesitation. He thrived in chaos, relishing the freedom to do as he pleased, whenever he pleased.

The king, however, was determined to bring his son into line.

For weeks, he had planned a magnificent ball, a glittering celebration designed to unite Caspian with a royal bride. Lords and ladies from noble families filled the palace, their daughters draped in shimmering silks and adorned with glittering jewels, each hoping to capture the wayward prince’s attention.

But Caspian had no intention of being paraded like a prize or shackled in a marriage of convenience.

The thought of settling down—of becoming someone else’s possession—was suffocating. He was a rebel, a spoiled brat in the eyes of many, but to Caspian, life was meant to be lived untamed, embracing the wild and the unpredictable. No one could bind him—not even a crown.

Caspian’s mother, Queen Astrid, passed away when he was still a child—far too young to understand the full weight of what he had lost, yet old enough to feel the cold emptiness her absence left behind.

Her sudden death cast a shadow over the palace that never truly lifted.

No cause was ever declared. The royal physicians found nothing conclusive. Rumors spread through every corridor of the castle. Some whispered that poison had tainted her wine. Others believed she had fallen victim to an ancient curse, or to dark magic woven in silence.

The truth remained buried beneath whispers, suspicion, and unanswered questions.

After her death, the palace changed.

So did the king.

Not long after Astrid was laid to rest, King Magnus remarried.

His new queen was Rosaline.

In time, they had a son together, whom they named Aron.

In the public eye, Rosaline was the perfect queen. She smiled graciously, spoke with gentle elegance, and cloaked herself in silks, charm, and diplomacy.

But beneath her polished exterior lay a heart carved from ice.

She never once raised her voice at Caspian, nor did she openly speak ill of him. Her disdain was never loud.

It lingered in every glance.

To her, Caspian was not a boy.

He was a problem.

An heir.

An obstacle standing between her own son and the throne.

Even as a child, Caspian could sense it.

Their relationship became a silent battlefield. Every word exchanged between them was wrapped in flawless courtesy, while every glance concealed another move in their quiet war.

In public, they played their roles perfectly—he, the dutiful prince; she, the affectionate stepmother.

But beneath the polished façade, their cold war never ceased.

⸻

As Amelia stepped into the house, the familiar scent of burning wood from the hearth greeted her, but tonight, it felt less like home. Her mother was waiting with her arms crossed, her face a mixture of worry and anger.

“Where have you been, Amelia?” Her mother’s sharp voice pierced through the quiet.

“I was at Mr. Haraldson’s house, Mama,” Amelia replied, keeping her voice as steady as she could.

Her mother turned to face her, a frown settling between her brows. “Mr. Haraldson’s? Whatever for?”

Amelia hesitated, the lie forming on her lips before she could think better of it. “No reason in particular. I just felt like visiting them.”

“Do you know what time it is? You’re not a child anymore, wandering off like this. You’re a young woman! And you need to start acting like one.”

Amelia stood still, clutching the edge of her cloak. She had expected this, but it still stung.

Her mother didn’t stop.

“How do you think this behavior will reflect on us? How are we supposed to find you a suitable husband if you keep wandering around like this? No decent man will accept a girl who doesn’t know her place.”

The words felt like stones hurled at her chest, but the next ones crushed her.

“We received a letter today. From the Duke of Alden. His son has taken a liking to you.”

Amelia’s heart sank like a stone into deep waters. The room spun for a moment.

The Duke’s son?

She had only seen him at the grand ball and even then, his cold, arrogant gaze had left a chill in her bones.

Her mother’s voice softened, but not in a way that brought comfort. It was the tone of someone who had already made the decision for her.

“This is an opportunity, Amelia. From now on, you will do as I say. No more wandering. Do you hear me?”

Amelia’s throat tightened, and she could barely force the words out.

“Mama, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I will do as you say, but… please don’t make me marry him. Not now. I’m not ready yet.”

Her mother’s face hardened.

“You stupid girl. Do you have any idea how lucky you are? He’s the son of a Duke. A Duke! We’re nothing but poor folk, Amelia. We don’t come from noble blood, but still, he has taken a liking to you. Do you know what this could mean for us? For you?”

Tears welled in Amelia’s eyes, spilling over before she could stop them.

“This discussion is over. Prepare yourself for the marriage. That’s final.” Her mother’s voice became firm and final.

Amelia stood rooted to the spot, her chest heaving with silent sobs. Words escaped her, and even if she could find them, they would do no good.

⸻

The family sat together at the dining table, the room filled with the inviting scent of roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread. But whatever comfort the meal offered vanished when Amelia’s father made his announcement.

“Mr. Gravel has invited us to their house this coming Sunday,” he announced, his tone steady yet deliberate.

Amelia froze, her fork poised mid-air. The morsel of food in her mouth seemed to expand, lodging itself in her throat. She coughed, reaching for her water as her mind raced.

Her mother clasped her hands together, her eyes lifting heavenward.

“Oh, thank you, Lord!” she whispered fervently. “This is the opportunity I’ve prayed for.”

Amelia’s chest tightened. She looked down at her plate, saying nothing.

The word marriage lingered, unspoken yet loud in her mind. It felt like a storm cloud looming over her future.

As soon as dinner was over, Amelia excused herself and stepped outside. The cool night air kissed her cheeks as she walked through their small garden, the gravel crunching beneath her feet.

The stars above twinkled faintly, but her chest felt heavy, as if the weight of the sky had fallen upon her shoulders.

She made her way to the back of the house, seeking solace in the quiet.

That’s when she noticed it—a shadowy figure standing just beyond the bushes.

At first, she thought it was her father.

“Papa?” she called, her voice shaky.

But the figure didn’t move.

It was tall, broad-shouldered, and eerily still.

Then, without warning, two massive black wings unfurled from its back, their span so wide that they seemed to block out the moonlight.

Amelia gasped, stumbling a step backward.

Before she could even comprehend what she was seeing, the figure leapt into the air and disappeared into the night, the sound of his wings slicing through the silence.

Her breath hitched as she stood there, rooted to the spot.

“What… what was that?” she whispered to herself.

Gathering her courage, she approached the spot where the figure had been standing.

Her eyes fell to the ground, and there it was—a single black feather, long and glossy, catching the moonlight with its sheen.

She bent down, her fingers trembling as she picked it up.

It felt oddly familiar.

Her mind raced back to the other feather she had found weeks before.

It’s the same.

The crisp night air clung to Amelia’s skin, but she barely noticed. Her mind was reeling, her fingers still clutching the black feather. She stared at the bushes, unable to believe what she had just seen.

A moment later, when Amelia finally came to her senses, she turned and ran.

She had taken only a few steps when someone suddenly grabbed her from behind. One arm wrapped tightly around her waist, while a hand clamped over her mouth.

She struggled against his hold, but she couldn’t break free. She tried to scream, but the sound was muffled beneath his hand.

Then a man’s voice whispered close to her ear.

“Stop fighting, girl. I’m here to help you. I know you don’t want to marry the duke. I can stop that marriage for you, if you want me to, just nod.”

For a moment, she hesitated. But then she realized that resisting might only make things worse.

So she slowly nodded.

“I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth,” the man whispered. “Don’t scream. And don’t look back.”

She nodded again.

The man slowly removed his hand, though his arm remained around her waist. “Then let’s make a deal.”

“What deal?” Amelia asked, careful not to turn around.

“I’ll make sure you never marry the duke. In return, there is something I want from you.”

“What do you want?” She managed, struggling to catch her breath, as her heart raced.

“I’ll tell you when the time comes,” the man replied.

She frowned.

“Who are you? Why would you help me?” she asked. “Are you the forest spirit people have been talking about?”

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

“Yes. Sort of.”

His answer only made Amelia more uneasy.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he continued. “The question is—do you accept my offer?”

“But I don’t have any money,” Amelia said. “Nor do I have anything valuable to give you.”

“Oh, you do,” he replied. “You have something far more valuable to me than anything else in this world.”

Amelia’s uneasiness deepened.

Seeing her hesitation, he added, “Don’t worry, girl. I won’t ask you for anything impossible.”

“What if I can’t give you what you want?” Amelia asked, wanting to understand the consequences before agreeing to anything.

“Then I’ll take it from you.” A chill ran through her.

“What if I don’t have it?” she asked. “Will you hurt me? I’ve heard that forest spirits are kind to people. They grant their wishes.”

The man chuckled. “Never. I could never hurt you.”

Amelia fell silent for a moment.

“So what do you say?” he asked. “Do we have a deal?”

“Show me your face,” Amelia said. “How will I recognize you when we meet again?”

“I can’t do that right now,” he replied. “But you will know me when the time comes. I assure you.”

Amelia hesitated once more before finally saying, “Then yes. We have a deal. If what you want isn’t something too costly, I’ll give it to you.”

The man gave a soft, amused laugh.

“What a sweet girl you are.”

And then—

The arm around Amelia tightened for the briefest moment before disappearing completely.

A powerful rush of wind swept around her.

Then came the sound of beating wings.

Amelia’s eyes widened.

She spun around.

There was no one behind her.

She looked up just in time to see a dark figure soaring into the night sky, disappearing among the clouds.