Chosen by Valen

The bride in chains

The room they gave her wasn’t a dungeon.

It was worse.

Beautiful. Silent. Made entirely of obsidian and crystal. A door. No windows. Just walls that shimmered when she screamed.

A prison shaped like a shrine.

The only comfort was a single chair. And in the center of the room, a gown.

Black. Laced with crimson threads. Detailed with ancient symbols she didn’t recognize—but her bones did.

The wedding gown.

She laughed.

A dry, broken sound that didn’t belong to her.

Time passed strangely. Hours or days—she couldn’t tell. Food appeared. Her wounds healed.

But she didn’t touch the gown.

Until it began humming.

Low. Warm. Like a lullaby sung from another world.

When she finally screamed again, it wasn’t in fear.

It was in fury

Zara didn’t want to wear the gown.

But she did.

Not because she’d given up—but because she was done hiding. If she was going to fight, it had to be on the battlefield.

Even if that battlefield was an aisle.

Elira arrived just before dawn, flanked by silent maids in crimson.

Zara’s Pov

“im here to help you get ready” Elira said dropping an equally black colored veil she stepped in with.

“Alright” I said and she hesitated not expecting me to agree after fighting about it before.

Dressing up took a lot of time and the dress felt way heavier that it looked it was as if it was pressing down on me and fighting me, but the veil was worse it totally blocked my vision and was soo long I was sure I would fall and embarrass myself in public.

“The carriage is ready,” she said, voice unreadable.

I blinked. “Carriage?. Where are we going to?”

Elira didn’t answer.

I was pissed and kept looking around for Elara at least she would give me some answers. As if hearing my thoughts she appeared but didn't help much and I was told it was time to go

I could only go with them quietly and hoped I made it through

We walked through the same halls I had been exploring this past few days and miraculously it had a door, though I could have sworn that only a curtain stood where this door appeared but I was to amazed at what I saw to dwell on that door.

After leaving the castle they were numerous guards and a carriage drawn by four beast with golden eyes and manes of living smoke

We rode in silence, the landscape shifting the farther they went.

I was still finding it hard to believe I was here, in a strange dimensional world, about to get married, to a being I know nothing about.

And then—I saw it.

The palace.

No—palaces.

Sprawled across a fiery plain were spires, towers, and castles of impossible size and shape. One floated. One moved like it breathed. Another looked like it had been carved from bone.

Each had a flag.

A house.

A name.

We drove for a while before coming to a stop and I was asked to come down. The sight before me has me doubting my sanity again, all this cannot be real if I thought the castle I came from defied architectural logic, this one before me defied gravity and time.

My feet locked in place.

“Where is this place?,” I whispered.

Elira smirked faintly. “This is just one house in the kingdom of fire.”

It was Valen's Court. I felt it. It was so familiar to me, yet so strange. That being must have cast a spell on me. Why would this place look familiar to me. I took a second and proper look.

Blackstone towers, red glass, bridges of obsidian. It pulsed like a living heart.

Guards in dark armor lined the way as my carriage entered through massive gates.

My throat tightened.

It wasn’t just a wedding.

It was a political event.

When the doors opened, the hallway was flooded with rose-colored mist. Everything in there seemed to be made of precious stones, and shocking enough walking inside i discovered thousands of guests who were there to witness my ‘marriage’.

And then I saw them.

Valen’s family. I was sure even though I had no idea how I knew.

At the foot of the stairs stood three figures in regal attire. One woman with eyes like gold and a smile as sharp as a blade. One tall, broad-shouldered man with an unreadable expression. And one younger male, watching her like a riddle he couldn’t wait to solve.

Each of them looked powerful.

None of them looked kind.

“His siblings,” Elira whispered beside me.“They rule the other realms. They’ve come to see if the mortal bride is worth the crown he claims.”

I nearly turned and ran.

But before I could even attempt to, Valen stepped into view at the top of the stairs.

Dressed in a black regalia. No crown.

But he didn’t need one.

The moment his eyes locked on mine,the entire kingdom stilled.

And somewhere inside me, a voice whispered—

You are not just marrying him. You are marrying a war.

I looked away. Fast enough I hoped.

The palace steps seemed endless.

My hands trembled inside my gloves, but i held my spine straight. I refused to cower before the nobles cloaked in shadow and gold, or the horned beings whispering behind bone-crafted fans. The scent of ash and night-blooming flowers filled the air, thick and dizzying.

I had expected the mansion to be the end of my descent.

But it was only the gate.

And now—i stood at the threshold of the true realm.

And then, he stepped into the light.

Valen.

No longer just a voice in the dark. No longer a phantom behind velvet curtains.

He was real.

And he was… magnificent.

He wore a ceremonial robe woven from shadows and fire, the fabric shifting like it breathed,

swallowing and reflecting light. Etchings in gold and blood-red thread marked his chest and sleeves—sigils of war, conquest, ancient power. A mantle of black fur draped across one shoulder, clasped with a pulsing bloodstone. Even the wind seemed to bow around him.

His hair was obsidian silk, tied at the nape with a band of gold. His skin—pale, smooth like glass carved by starlight. High cheekbones. A sharp, unforgiving jaw. And his mouth—cold and sculpted, like it had been carved to command silence.

But his eyes.

Eyes like burning amber. Deep, endless. Holding storms and silence in the same breath.

He moved down the steps slowly. Not in arrogance—but in command. The kind that didn’t ask for attention. It owned it.

When he reached the last step, the court quieted.

My pulse thudded against my ears. I had no words. No thoughts. Only the sharp ache in my chest that told me something ancient had just seen me—and recognized me.

He didn’t bow.

Didn’t offer a hand. At least that was what I expected him to do.

Just looked at me.

Like I was a prophecy.

Or a mistake he had yet to understand.

I refused to lower her gaze this time.

A whisper broke the silence beside me.

“He rarely comes down the steps for anyone.”

I blinked and turned my head slightly.

It was Elara. The small, curious maid who always stayed just close enough to observe.

“That’s Valen,” Elara whispered. “Heir to the Infernal Throne. Blood-born of the Eighth Flame. They say the war stopped only when he spoke.”

My throat was dry. “He looks like… like he stepped out of a painting.”

Niva chuckled faintly. “Many tried to paint him. None survived long after.”

My eyes didn’t leave him. They couldn't “He has no crown.”

“He doesn’t need one,” Elara said. “Not when the shadows follow him like loyal dogs.”

Then Elara leaned in. “But if you want to know a secret—he’s not cruel to everyone.”

I glanced sideways.

“Lady Saela,” Elara whispered. “His blood cousin. Or half-sister. No one really knows. But he listens to her. She’s the only softness in this place.”

I scanned the balconies.

And there she was.

A figure in starlight-colored robes. Hair like moonlit silk. Eyes calm and kind in a way that made me ache. She watched Valen silently. When his gaze found hers, something in him… shifted.

Not much. But enough to notice.

He nodded. She smiled—and disappeared back into the shadows

I wondered how it felt to be someone Valen didn’t scare.

When he turned back to me,the court seemed to vanish.

And he said my name.

“Zara.”

Just that.

A whisper of flame.

And as if i was witnessing it as a third party we exchanged amulet and i became his ‘wife’.