Just as I closed the door to my room, a shadow loomed in the dimly lit corridor. The flickering light barely revealed him, but as he drew closer, a haunting silver glow pulsed around his thick neck. A chilling breeze swept through the passageway, and with it, the horrifying recognition and realisation that it was Zaydon who loomed in the corridor.

He staggered forward, his feet faltering beneath him. Before I could react, he crashed into me, the force of the impact pinning me between his solid frame and the door behind me.

"I'm sorry," Zaydon murmured, his voice a fragile whisper—desperate and broken.

My brows drew together, confusion etching into my expression. Why was he sorry? Was he referring to his behaviour earlier?

"Don’t worry about it," I replied, but my voice wavered with concern. My hands reached out instinctively, finding his ribs, the touch tentative and trembling. "Are you okay, Zay?"

His disorientation was obvious as he swayed slightly, his arms braced against the wall beside my head. In my gut, I could feel that there was something horribly wrong, and Zaydon’s apology didn't seem to be what I thought it was.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, the words dripping with anguish and guilt.

My heart pounded furiously as I tried to scan him from where I was in the dim light, and my breath caught in my throat. Then, a loud cry of shock escaped my mouth as I took in the sight before me.

A magical circle of runes, glowing with a sickly, faded light, formed a cruel collar around his neck. It hovered an inch above his skin, the bruises and blood around it a brutal image that made me feel nauseous.

I recognised the runes of his collar, and I knew it was no ordinary spell that had been put on him—it was the Dragon's Bond.

The Dragon’s Bond was a vile enchantment steeped in a grim history, especially in my kingdom, where it was first made and used. It was a powerful spell that shackled a dragon shifter to another person, usually a princess.

This dark and ancient ritual was rooted in a barbaric era and was used for far more than a mere ceremony; it was a twisted trial of strength and resolve. It was designed to test the mettle of those who dared to seek the hand of a princess bound to a dragon. Killing the dragon somehow made you not only worthy to marry said princess but also worthy enough to rule.

It was a cruel test, one that was as merciless as it was archaic, and when I learned about it, I vowed that when I became queen, I’d find every book that taught one how to do the spell and burn them all. How ironic that I’d bear witness to the real thing around the throat of the man I loved.

My lips trembled as I stared at the fading magical collar that, once completely invisible, would set the spell permanently in place. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I reached out to touch his face, my fingertips brushing against his skin with a tenderness that belied the storm of emotions inside me. I held his face gently, my palms cupping his cheeks, desperately seeking a connection in the midst of my anguish.

"Zaydon, tell me this wasn’t your choice—that this wasn’t something you did willingly," I implored, my voice cracking under the weight of my plea. I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign that he might deny the truth, clinging to a fleeting hope that this was not the result of his own decision.

Yet, deep down, I knew the cruel reality, though, at that moment, I wished I was ignorant enough to believe a lie if he even gave me one. The Dragon’s Bond could only take hold when the dragon willingly accepted it, and that meant Zaydon had agreed to do this… willingly.

I continued to gently hold his face, my hands steadying his trembling form and trying to bridge the chasm between us with the fragile hope that, somehow, this wasn’t his own choosing. Zaydon’s eyes, usually so fierce and confident, now averted their gaze, revealing a torment that cut deeper than any physical wound. His voice emerged as a broken whisper, barely audible over the tumultuous storm raging within me and the roaring of my blood in my ears.

"I—I did it willingly." 

The words hung in the air, their gravity so heavy I couldn't breathe for a moment. My heart felt as though it had plummeted into an abyss of despair, and each beat felt like a painful thud against the cold reality of what Zaydon had just confirmed.

"You didn’t ask me," I whispered, the pain in my voice unmistakable. "You didn’t give me a choice, Zaydon. You made this decision for both of us."

His eyes closed briefly as if the weight of my words was too much to bear. When they reopened, the torment within them was mirrored in his trembling voice.

"I did it for you... please," he murmured, his tone raw and pleading.

His words, though simple, cut through me with the force of a storm. My chest tightened as I struggled to comprehend his reasoning, to reconcile the man I loved with the one who had made such a monumental, selfish decision without me.

"For me?" I repeated, my voice rising slightly, unable to contain the incredulity that seeped into my tone. "How could you possibly think this was for me, Zaydon? You didn’t even give me the chance to decide what I wanted. You just... you just took that from me."

His hands, trembling now, reached up to cover mine where they still cupped his face. His touch was warm, almost desperate as if he were trying to anchor himself to me despite the storm raging between us.

"I couldn’t lose you," he whispered, the words barely audible but heavy with emotion. "Not to them. Not to anyone. I—" His voice cracked, his crimson-tinged gaze pleading with mine. "I thought I was protecting you."

The weight of his admission settled over me like a suffocating blanket. His intentions, though born from a place of love, had stripped me of my agency, binding us both to a fate neither of us could escape. My heart ached with a mix of anger, sorrow, and something far more complicated—something that left me feeling as though the ground beneath me had shifted irreparably.