The Prince in Chains
1028 Words
The forest didn’t feel like a forest anymore.
The deeper Liora ran, the more the world warped around her—trees bending as if listening, the wind whispering names she didn’t recognize, the ground humming beneath her feet like something alive. The moon above her wasn’t its normal silver. Tonight, it bled.
The Blood Moon.
Her grandmother used to whisper warnings about it, stories of doors better left closed and creatures better left asleep. Liora never believed any of it. Tales were just tales. Shadows couldn’t hurt you. Monsters didn’t crawl out of old magic.
At least… that’s what she used to think.
Her breath tore from her throat as she pushed through a curtain of black leaves—and froze.
The forest opened into a wide clearing.
And in the very center, glowing like the heart of another world, was a circle carved from living light. It pulsed, rising and falling like it was breathing. Ancient symbols burned around the edges, shifting every time she blinked.
Inside the circle, someone knelt—
No. Someone was chained.
A boy. A man.
A prince… though she didn’t know how she knew that.
He knelt with his head bowed, silver chains wrapped around his wrists and chest like serpents made of moonlight. Power rolled off him in waves—dark, wild, barely contained. His hair was midnight-black, falling over his eyes. His chest rose and fell in deep, controlled breaths, as if he were struggling to stay conscious.
Liora’s heart seized.
She should run.
She should scream.
She should pretend she saw nothing.
But she couldn’t move.
Something in the air pulled at her.
Something ancient.
Something familiar.
The prince’s head lifted.
Eyes—Abyss-deep. Gold around the edges. And glowing faintly, like embers trying to reignite.
When he spoke, his voice was soft… yet it echoed inside her bones.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Liora’s throat went dry. She wanted to answer, but no sound came out.
The ground trembled violently beneath her.
The circle’s symbols flared.
The chains tightened around him, drawing blood.
He winced, jaw clenching. “Damn it—move, girl! Run!”
But Liora took a step toward him instead.
She didn’t understand why. She didn’t understand anything.
Her mind screamed Stop, but her body kept moving like something was guiding it.
The light of the ritual reacted instantly.
Flared.
Turned sharp.
Turned hungry.
The prince’s eyes widened.
“No—NO! Stop! You’re triggering it—”
A line of magic shot across the circle, snatching her wrist.
Liora gasped as a burning pain exploded beneath her skin. She stumbled back, clutching her arm as something hot seared into her flesh.
Not burning.
Not cutting.
Marking.
A symbol unfurled on her wrist—intricate, glowing, ancient.
And identical to one carved into the prince’s chains.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
A terrified whisper.
“Impossible…”
Liora stared at him, breath shaking. “W-what’s happening to me?”
He swallowed hard, looking at her like she was both a miracle and a disaster waiting to happen.
“You awakened the Ritual of Binding.”
His eyes flicked to her wrist.
“To carry that mark… you shouldn’t exist.”
The forest roared suddenly.
A surge of power slammed upward from the circle, forcing Liora to her knees. The prince’s chains snapped tight again, dragging him toward the center of the ritual like the magic wanted to swallow him whole.
He growled—low, animalistic—and for a moment his pupils elongated like a wolf’s. The air darkened, heat rising from his skin.
Something inside him wasn’t human.
Something inside him was breaking free.
“Get out!” he snarled, fangs flashing. “Before I lose control!”
Instead of fear… Liora felt something else.
Recognition.
As if she had seen him before.
As if part of her remembered him.
The ground split open beneath the circle, a crack opening into darkness. Black mist poured out, swirling around the chains, around him.
And then—
His power lashed out.
Not at her.
Not at the forest.
At the ritual itself.
The chains burst into fragments of silver light, scattering like sparks. The circle cracked. The symbols shattered. The clearing shook with violent magic.
Liora was thrown backward, hitting the ground.
When the light finally died…
He wasn’t chained anymore.
He slowly stood, breathing like a man who had just survived drowning. His chest heaved, his hands shaking as he brushed pieces of broken magic off his skin. His eyes glowed brighter now—dangerous, wild, beautiful.
He took a step toward her.
Liora crawled back instinctively.
He stopped.
Not because she moved.
But because the symbol on her wrist flared again, brighter than before.
A flare of fear — real fear — flickered across his features.
He took a slow breath. “Listen to me. You’ve stepped into something far bigger than this forest. That mark makes you a target for things you can’t imagine.”
He moved closer, kneeling in front of her.
His voice dropped, softer this time.
Almost pained.
“I don’t know who you are. But the prophecy speaks of a girl with that mark… and every version ends in blood.”
Liora’s heartbeat pounded in her ears. “Are you saying I’m going to die?”
He held her gaze.
Golden. Unblinking.
Heavy with a truth he didn’t want to say.
“I’m saying,” he whispered, “that everything hunting me… will now hunt you.”
Branches snapped violently somewhere behind them.
The prince’s head snapped up, expression hardening.
“They’re coming.”
Liora’s skin went cold. “Who?”
He reached toward her, fingers brushing her wrist—then pulling back sharply as if the contact burned him.
“Shadow cultists,” he said. “And if they find you…”
A shadow moved between the trees.
Closer.
The prince’s jaw clenched. He stepped in front of her.
“Stay behind me.”
Liora swallowed.
“What’s your name?” she whispered.
He didn’t look back.
“Kael.”
Another shadow lunged.
Kael’s eyes glowed molten gold.
And then—
Something inside him snapped free.
- Writer
