Chapter 3: Bound in Shadows

Zyra's scream was swallowed by the abyss.

The darkness wrapped around her like a living entity, slithering over her skin, dragging her into nothingness. She fought, thrashing against the tendrils of shadow, but it was like struggling against a tide that had already decided her fate.

And then—cold air.

The suffocating blackness peeled away, and suddenly, Zyra was falling.

She hit the ground hard, the impact sending a jolt of pain through her limbs. The floor beneath her was smooth, stone-cold, the scent of damp air and burning embers filling her nostrils.

She pushed herself up, vision swimming.

A cavern. No—a throne room.

The space was vast, carved from black stone, with jagged obsidian spires stretching toward the ceiling like the ribs of some long-dead beast. Shadows coiled along the walls, moving like sentient creatures, drawn to the massive throne perched atop a platform at the room's center.

And sitting upon that throne, watching her with piercing blue eyes, was Kieran Duskbane.

Zyra's breath caught in her throat.

The Shadow King.

The most feared ruler of the mortal and immortal realms alike.

And her fated mate.

She shoved down the panic clawing its way up her chest. She had to get out of here.

But as she moved, the shadows at her wrists tightened, forcing her to her knees.

"Let me go," she snarled, jerking against the invisible restraints.

Kieran leaned forward, resting his elbows on the armrests of his throne. His expression was unreadable, but his fingers tapped against the carved stone—a lazy motion that did nothing to disguise the storm simmering beneath his composed exterior.

"I could," he mused. "But where would the fun be in that?"

Zyra saw red. "You think this is a joke?"

A smirk curved his lips. "Oh, no, little star. I think this is a disaster." His eyes darkened. "One I fully intend to fix."

Zyra's stomach twisted. Fix?

She didn't have time to dwell on the implications before he stood, his presence commanding, consuming. The air in the room grew heavier, and the shadows flickered in anticipation as he descended the steps toward her.

Her body went rigid, but she refused to shrink beneath his gaze.

When he finally stopped before her, he reached out—slow, deliberate—and brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

The contact sent a jolt of white-hot electricity through her veins.

Her breath hitched.

The bond pulsed, clawing at her like a caged animal, desperate to close the space between them. The moment his skin touched hers, a part of her recognized him—not as her enemy, not as the monster who had burned her village, but as something far more dangerous.

As hers.

No. No.

She jerked away, chest heaving. "Don't touch me."

Kieran's jaw tightened. "Believe me, celestial, I would rather set myself on fire."

Then why did you touch me at all? The question burned in her throat, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of asking it.

She clenched her fists, forcing steel into her spine. "If you want to 'fix' this, then release me."

Kieran let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "And let you run? No. You don't understand, little star." He leaned down, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. "You cannot be out there. Not now. Not like this."

Zyra scowled. "Because I'm your mate?"

His expression darkened, something dangerous flickering in his gaze. "Because every creature in existence will want to kill you once they realize what you are."

She stilled. "What are you talking about?"

Kieran straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell me, celestial," he drawled, as if testing her, "how much do you know about your own kind?"

Zyra hesitated.

She had always known she was different. The stars whispered to her, the moonlight filled her with a strength others could never understand. But the truth of what she was? Her mother had died before she could explain it.

Kieran's smirk was sharp. Knowing.

"You don't, do you?" He exhaled slowly, his amusement fading. "You are more than just celestial-born, Zyra." His voice dropped into something quieter, more dangerous. "You are the last of the Starforged."

Her blood ran cold.

"The what?"

Kieran studied her reaction, then let out a bitter chuckle. "Unbelievable." He turned away, running a hand through his dark hair as if she were an impossible puzzle he had no patience for. "They really kept you ignorant."

Zyra hated the way his words sent unease crawling down her spine.

She forced herself to her feet, ignoring the way the bond screamed at her for putting distance between them. "If you know something about me, then say it plainly."

Kieran faced her again, his blue eyes glowing with something ancient.

"Starforged are more than celestials, Zyra. You are one of the last living beings who carry the power of the Eclipse Realm itself." His gaze hardened. "And that means every court, every kingdom, every god who still walks this world will hunt you until you are either dead… or theirs."

Her stomach churned.

"You're lying," she whispered.

Kieran's expression turned deadly serious. "Am I?"

Zyra wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that this was some twisted trick. But deep down, she felt it.

The bond between them hadn't just formed because fate had decided to be cruel.

It had formed because she was something more, and he had always belonged to the darkness.

Opposites. Rivals. Destined.

A tremor ran through her hands. "If that's true…" She swallowed. "Then why would you care?"

Kieran's smirk was gone. His expression was grim, shadows curling at his feet like restless wolves.

"Because I have spent my entire life keeping the gods from returning to this world," he murmured. "And you, Zyra Valeris, may have just become their key."

The breath left her lungs.

Kieran stepped closer, voice barely above a whisper. "So tell me, little star—are you ready to be the reason the heavens burn?"

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